thank you

Thank you for your sweet comments about my piece in Brevity. And a big thank you to those of you who "de-lurked" for Haiti last week. Because a number of "known" visitors also commented, I decided to donate $1 to for every person who posted a comment on any Mother Words post in the last week. Thank you for helping!

Another way to help is by going over to Literary Mama and buying some gear: sweatshirt? onesie? beer stein? All proceeds from the sale of Literary Mama gear will also benefit Partners In Health. Check out their cool new stuff.

an honor

I have been reading Brevity for years and I’ve dreamt of being published there. The first two pieces I submitted (one in 2004 and one in 2005) were both excerpts of Ready for Air. In each case, I tried to condense a scene or chapter from my memoir into a 750-word essay. It didn’t work.

Then last spring I spent a lot of time reading and re-reading Brevity’s past issues, and I finally felt ready to submit again. I felt ready because my writing had improved immeasurably over the past years. I felt ready because I was armed with images that had been floating in my head for over a decade, images that I knew could hold together in one short piece. So I sat down and I wrote an essay, a very short essay. It was not something that I chopped and manipulated from long to short. It was something I wrote for Brevity.

I’ve posted before about patience and perseverance, which I believe are necessary if you want to be a writer. And I really do believe they are necessary. I believe that you should never let a rejection stop you. You shouldn’t even let fifty rejections stop you. You must—always—keep writing. You will get better. The market will change. And someday, you’ll get the thing you’ve been dreaming of. And then you’ll feel honored and you will have energy to write even more.

I am honored: Brevity #32.

de-lurk for haiti

I haven’t been watching much of the news coverage of the devastation in Haiti—I just can’t do it. But this doesn’t mean that I’m not thinking about the people in Haiti. On the contrary, I can’t stop thinking about them. The image that comes to me again and again is that of a mother, walking down a broken street, searching for her child, desperately calling his name, knowing on some level that it’s too late, that he’s dead, but unable to stop calling for him. I imagine what this would be like—this hopelessness and not-knowing—and it breaks my heart over and over again.

For a long time now I have been planning to ask you lurkers to de-lurk for a charity, but I hadn’t decided on a cause. Now I have one.

(I don’t actually like the term “lurker” because it sounds so sinister, as if you are crouching outside my window, peering in. And of course there is nothing wrong with reading a blog anonymously. But as a blogger, it is nice to know who and where my readers are. It’s nice to put names to the hits on my StatCounter.)

So join me in Mother Words’ first de-lurking for charity. For every comment left by a reader who has never commented here before, I will donate one dollar to Partners in Health. You must post your comment by Friday, January 22nd. If you are willing, please also state your location.

Money is tight for us now—still—but I have to do something to help the people in Haiti. You can help me.

two essays

I have to post links to two wonderful essays:

I love Victoria Patterson's "Writer Duck," up now at Literary Mama. (It was also the first essay I worked on as a Literary Mama editor, so, well, there's that.)

And then this wonderful short-short, "July 3rd," by one of my lovely students just won honorable mention in MinnPost's Short-Short contest. I swell with pride. Way to go, A.D.!

reading and teaching

Perhaps you noticed that I didn’t post about too many books or essays this fall. I was just in over my head and apparently incapable of digesting anything literary after the girls were in bed. But I’m happy to report that I’m reading again—finally—and I have a ton of exciting books to post about in the coming weeks. My wonderful and talented friend, Alex Lemon, just published his first memoir, Happy, which I will hopefully get to soon. I just read Kao Kalia Yang’s amazing memoir, The Latehomecomer: A Hmong Family Memoir, which details Yang’s family’s escape from Laos and eventual arrival in the United States after the end of the Vietnam War. Over the holidays I read two very interesting anthologies, Who’s Your Mama? and Unbuttoned, which I reviewed for Literary Mama. (I’ll let you know when the review is up at LM.) And I’m currently finishing Hope Edelman’s lovely memoir, The Possibility of Everything. So, I have lots to write about.

I’m also beginning to gear up for my winter/spring classes and my end-of-February Mother Words Retreat. There are still a few spots in my next online Mother Words class, which begins February 10th. You can read more about that on my website, or contact me with questions.

I’m teaching a two-hour mini-workshop, Mother Memoir, at Mother’s Day, Inc. in Chanhassen, Minnesota, on Saturday, January 23rd, 10:30-12:30. You can register for that here.

I’m also teaching an 8-week Introduction to Creative Nonfiction course at the Loft, beginning February 4th, which you can register for here.

And there are still a few available spots for my Mother Words Retreat at Faith’s Lodge, February 26-28. More information on that here.

I feel energized (still tired, but energized) for the first time in a long time. And it’s nice to remember that the more I read, the more I want to read.

buying time

I finally realized that I can’t juggle everything—teaching and editing and writing and child care and house maintenance—without more time. So starting next week, Stella will be in an extended-day program the three mornings a week that Zoë is in preschool. This essentially means that I’m buying back six of the ten work hours I lost when D switched jobs.

I was feeling a little guilty about the plan, but then I sat down and really thought about those morning hours with Stella, which ideally would be spent fashioning pipe cleaners into princesses or practicing her reading, but in reality are spent with her in front of the television and me in front of my computer. (I know, I know. But how else could I make a dent in the work?) Now she’ll be able to craft and play outside with a few of her school friends (who also attend the program), and I can focus—without interruption—on my work for six extra hours a week.

Stella seemed ambivalent about it all, but when we dropped off her paperwork this morning, and she realized she’d be playing with two of her classmates, she begged to start today. Hallelujah!

I think it will turn out to be a positive thing for both of us, and I hope it will help me feel less harried and more balanced. Because I realized something else this week: multitasking sucks. I’m just not good at it. When I divide my attention, my attention is, well, divided. My darlings begin misbehaving to get me to look at them, and I become crabby and exasperated. So my goal with this new schedule is to compartmentalize my work time and be more present with Stella and Zoë and D when we’re all at home together. Talk about A Plan.

How do you all deal with multitasking versus focused family time?

2010!

I don’t usually spend much time reflecting on the past year as I switch over the calendar. I don’t make resolutions. Last night was the first time in years that I even stayed up until midnight. But even though I did stay up, I was kind of a Scrooge about it. We were watching the Times Square hoopla on TV, and well, I just didn’t get it. I still don’t get it. My sister assured me that I wasn’t always that much of a party pooper. And that must be true, mustn’t it? I used to be fun, didn’t I? But I’m a total party pooper these days; my main concern is getting enough sleep.

2009 was a challenging year, but even as I write that—think it—I know that along with the challenges there was plenty of joy, plenty of laughter in our house. And I love my girls. Zoë is a nut, a stubborn, funny little girl who is talking more and more and who, even though she often pinches Stella and pulls her hair, adores her sister: “Where Dtella? Where Dtella go?” And Stella, my big Stella, is so mature one moment as she tells her younger cousin that what he is about to do isn’t safe. The next moment, she is so much still a little kid as she catapults herself from the bed or whines because the way I looked at her “hurt her feelings.”

2009 also brought a few acceptances and publications with which I’m very pleased, an editorial position I love at the wonderful Literary Mama, serious movement on both of my books. 2009 brought a new job for D. But still, I’m ready for 2010. I’m ready for a new year. And I’d love to be positive today, to embrace all of the hopefulness and possibility of the coming months. But instead of brimming with hope and good cheer, I’ve been crabby all day. It could have something to do with being stuck inside a cabin with bickering kids (my nephew and my own darlings) and the sub-zero weather that makes staying outside for more than a few minutes impossible. It could have to do with the work hanging over my head, the work I wish I could put aside for the week, but that I can’t because I’ve already put it aside too long.

But I don’t want to be crabby on the first day of the new year. It feels like pooping on a clean plate (not that I’ve ever done this, mind you). So I’m ready to shake myself out of it. I’m ready to embrace the chaos. I'm ready to BE POSITIVE!

May you all have a happy and hopeful year full of desires realized and lots of time for writing and reading.