Between the Bright Moments

I’m reading Elizabeth Gilbert’s inspirational book, BIG MAGIC. In a section about persistence Gilbert refers to the fun part of the writing life, when everything is going great. Words are flowing. You are affirmed in every writing relationship. Accolades are pouring in.

But then Gilbert brings up the all too familiar moments between. She writes, “You don’t leap from bright moment to bright moment. How you manage yourself between those bright moments, when things aren’t going so great, is a measure of how devoted you are to your vocation, and how equipped you are for the weird demands of creative living. Holding yourself together through all the phases of creation is where the real work lies.”

Man, is she ever talking my language in this section. This is the true heart of discipline. We are all well-acquainted with these in-between and not-so-glimmering seasons of life. Whether you’re a parent, an artist, or you’ve dedicated yourself to a craft for a duration . . . you know the bridge moments. The day-to-day monotony of marching across the bridge. When you’re scared. When you’re exhausted and dripping with sweat. When the only view that snags your attention is the petrifying distance below. When you feel entirely alone on your journey—the moments between.

Today I’m offering five things to consider, as well as motivation to march on when you’re amidst a bridge season of life.

Use the time to pay attention

The world has a tendency to look different when you’re trudging across a bridge. You could choose to perceive everything at an impossible distance or you could admire the rare bird’s eye view of the trees. Marvel at the knotted rope holding you up. Or the ever-shifting cloud patterns in the sky. Take note of those who’ve walked before you and made it across. Find encouragement in the path—seek it.

Tap into an internal well of gratitude

No better time to give thanks for all the blessings in your life than while you’re on the bridge. Often we get distracted in the valleys and peaks. Bridge moments provide excellent time for reflection.

Reflect upon the distance you’ve traveled and all that you’ve learned

Mimic Lot’s wife. Look back. But briefly, and for the right reasons. You’ve come a long way. There’s dignity in this. And a pattern. You’ve invested much already. In your children. Your vocation. Your craft. Giving up now would be foolish. Years of hard work wasted. You have learned through every hardship, every failure, every misstep. Reflect, then onward.

Challenge your previously held perspective

Maybe you believed you’d be at the other side already. Or you thought someone would have come along to walk the rest of the way with you. Maybe you can’t stand how crazy and stupid long this one bridge is and are desperately eager to quit moving along. Maybe someone broke a promise or a deal went through or all your wishes weren’t granted. So? What now? The bridge is the perfect place to ask yourself what you expected to get out of this thing are you in this and what keeps you committed? The bridge has questions like these scrawled all over it.

you’re devoted to—and why you’re devoted to it. Are you in it solely for the praise? For returned affection? Or is there something deeper calling you to carry on? Despite the dizzying height. The rickety upward slope ahead. The wrestle with disillusionment. Why

Reassess the shoes you’re wearing

Have you equipped yourself with the best tools to make it across? A positive, tenacious spirit. Long-term vision. Giving attitude. Willingness to strip away jealousy. Dedication to put in the time it takes to push forward. Anyone would grow discouraged with gaping holes in the soles of their shoes. With puffy blisters reminding them how painful the walk is. It takes more than just talent and skill to traverse certain bridges. Choose wisely when you put your shoes on. You want them to carry you far. Through any and all terrains you encounter.

The bridge is ready. Are you?

Twenty-five Things Every Longtime Writer Will Experience

If you’ve dedicated yourself to the craft and you plan to stick with this writing thing, I’m going to let you in on a few well-known secrets. You can expect at least three-quarters of the following to apply to you at some point along the long haul. So, a toast. Because we’re in this together. And we can laugh and bond over...

Twenty-five Things a Longtime Writer Is Sure to Experience

1. Every winter your hands will turn freakishly numb at the keyboard.
2. Your skin will get thick, then thin, then thick again. {Rinse & repeat.}
3. You will see others get an agent, a contract, a three-book deal and believe. Oh, you’ll believe.
4. You will wait for what feels like eternity and every other day you’ll be tempted to abandon all belief—not just in getting published, but in all mankind.
5. You will see someone else’s printed and edited draft and secretly wish for them to edit yours.
6. There will be days your work is the best thing you’ve ever read.
7. There will be days your work is the biggest load of crap you’ve ever read.
8. You will go nuts when an admired author follows you back on Twitter.
9. You will forget how many days in a row you’ve camped out in your pajamas and talked only to your characters.
10. You will jump through every hoop possible in order to get published until you find that hoop-jumping is not your thing. Writing is.
11. You will read Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird and fall in love with the craft all over again.
12. Facebook and social media in general will become the ultimate bug zapper. But you’ll fly toward it, vulnerable every time your thoughts run dry.
13. You’ll read reviews and instead of defining you as a writer, they will serve as small teaching tools you’ll be able to readily accept or let go. This is after you’ve memorized every single one.
14. Your coffee and your tea will grow cold and you will forget to eat lunch.
15. People will think you’re rolling in it. You will fight the temptation to tell them otherwise. Or if you’re like me, you’ll be downright honest and make the classic joke about your book that’s sure to make you millions.
16. You will find that one evening your writing absolutely sings after you’ve tipped back that extra glass of wine only to reread your WIP the next day and have a good laugh.
17. You’ll study all the latest sales and marketing trends, as well as all of the most compelling book plot ideas to discern what reaches audiences, only to find everything changes with the seasons.
18. Adaptability will become king.
19. You’ll have a few semi-delusional moments when you swear you see your characters while you’re shopping and it will take everything inside you to clamp your mouth shut so you don’t walk up to them and call them the wrong name. P.S. This happens in T.J. Maxx a lot.
20. You will celebrate with other writing friends. You will cry with other writing friends.
21. You will be staring right at someone, nodding, giving every indication you’re paying attention but you’ll be in Fictionland with your characters.
22. The best plot ideas and dialogue will come to you at 3am or when you’re in a bathtub full of water.
23. You’ll never quite know how to respond when someone informs you they’ve read your book but gives you no indication of what they thought.
24. The biggest tragedy of getting sick won’t be throwing up or spending hours moaning near the toilet, it’ll be that you’re away from your computer, unable to write.
25. No matter how brutal it gets, you won’t quit. Because you’ve come this far.

A Word about Quitting

Why can’t I be more of a quitter? There are days I really want to desert this road to publication. The

temptation to bail hits me hard. I convince myself I’m not cut out for the life of a writer.

Things get particularly daunting when I have to make the difficult decision to move on from an agent, or a close friend receives a drool-worthy offer, or I read my stuff and seriously consider shredding it and feeding it to the dog.

Eventually, a powerful message rises to the surface and riptides my thoughts.

You aren’t a soccer player but you are a writer.

Now, if you’ve visited my blog much, you know I’m far from a mathematician and you might be scratching your head trying to work out the logic behind what I just wrote. There isn’t an A + B = X (or whatever) equation that makes sense of the soccer player/writer sentence. There’s just life.

Let me explain.

I played travel soccer for my entire childhood. I was a teenager when I made the spontaneous decision to quit playing. I loved soccer. I still love the sport and have a blast cheering on my kids when they play. I can honestly say quitting soccer is one of the few regrets I have in life—regret squared because I quit for the wrong reasons.

I took my eyes off of the most important thing—my experience with the sport. I stopped playing because my older sister was better. I’m not making this up. She really was. She was All-American, met Pele, got a full ride scholarship for her skills, and eventually went on to play against Mia Hamm in college. She was a soccer rock star. I was solid. And I should have stuck with it. For the love of the sport. Sometimes I wonder what would have been. . .

Fast forward several decades and you have me, a writer, fiercely dedicated to my craft, though still facing that familiar temptation to bow out. It’s so easy to get sidetracked, believing others are better, garnering more attention, that they have something I don’t. They do have something I don’t. And I have something they don’t. The stories inside me. In the way that only I can tell them.

Right at the moment when I feel like the biggest writer schmuck on the planet, I tend to find some humor-filled way to immerse myself in my current project. I coach myself in Star Wars talk, “Stay on target” or I Church Lady-myself until I get in my word count, remembering all of the positive affirmations that I’ve encountered along this Yellow Brick Road (paved with flying monkey poop…it’s funny to me. Writers have a bit of an absurd and well-timed ability to entertain ourselves. We’re alone a lot…it’s part of the gig).

And when the humor wears off and the word count is complete and I’m left with my Tilt-A-Whirl brain, I’m met with a choice. Day in. And day out. Ride the self-doubts? Or hop off so I can get busy doing what I love?

I decide. Every day I decide.

I’m not a soccer player. But I am a writer.

*Pic is of me in my glory soccer days. P.S. It was the 80s. That’s how everyone wore their shorts! ;-)

One More Thing about Nurses

There’s been a lot of talk about nurses lately. After stepping back and witnessing all the scuttle, I

decided I have something to share.

I love nurses.

I’ve been cared for by some of the best.

And I thought I’d take this opportunity to thank a few I’ve encountered specifically. Not necessarily by name. See, because the nurses who’ve helped me were never concerned with me remembering their names. Nope. Their only goal was to aid me to better health. The way I see it, nursing is one of the most altruistic careers to go into.

So, here’s to the nurse in Seattle who cared for me post-surgery sixteen years ago. You were young. You were pregnant. And I’m extremely grateful for the way you normalized the situation I was in. I couldn’t stand or walk with ease. I was ashamed and embarrassed by the way my body reacted to surgery. You made me laugh. You even helped me shower when all hell broke loose and my fiancé was two seconds from walking in the room. You gifted me with the belief that someday I’d be okay again. For that I’ll be forever grateful.

One month later, I danced the night away at my wedding.

Here’s to the nurses who cared for me during labor and after I’d birthed my babies. Again, you gave me play-by-plays. You coached me. You talked me down. You warmed my heart. You gave me confidence, education, and empowerment. Thank you.

Here’s to the pediatric oncologist nurse I recently met with for hours, questioning as I feverishly took notes for a book I’m getting ready to release. You were patient. You were informative. You understood my compassion for my character and the situation she was in. Because you’ve loved patients in the same place. I’m grateful you made the time.

Finally, here’s to my sister, who after years building a career in sports marketing, felt the tug to invest in a new career. You know what it feels like to be blessed with a good bedside manner, suffering through years of chronic pain yourself. You turn around and breathe hope into your patients, you instill kindness with every shot given, every tube changed. You are a silent hero.

Nurses change the world.

Is there a nurse you’d like to thank today?

“It’s How I Stay Sane”

I’ve never known how to answer people when they ask, “How is it possible you’ve written so many

novels?”

I stare blankly, scrunch my nose, then smile with that awkward over-animated frog face I make sometimes. Eventually, I come up with some goofy answer like “It’s what I do” or “My brain is crowded and it helps me get some ideas out.” I enjoy responding with a wink and a healthy bout of sarcasm. Ah…why we do what we do.

Not long ago, I heard the real answer. It came without pretense. I was, ironically enough, asking another mom and friend from the soccer team how she runs so many marathons (not to mention how she finals with crazy fast times). The woman is my hero. Before a game one day, she took off sprinting at the far end of the field in order to squeeze in a run. I had to double check with another parent on the sidelines that I wasn’t seeing things. I’m talking Road Runner fast.

I pulled this endurance guru aside and asked it straight, “How do you run like you do? What’s your motivation?”

She laughed. Then, without any added explanation, this mom of four young girls admitted, “It’s how I stay sane.”

Say no more. I got it.

I get it.

Call it an outlet, a passion, our oxygen, a stress reliever, a calling, or a vocation. Call it what you will, but I understand this intense level of commitment as a road to sanity.

Protecting the mind. Nourishing the soul. Counterbalancing all the grating and ugly we rub up against during our days here.

Every time I sit to write I’m restoring, reconciling—reinstating sanity. I’m making sense of a senseless world if only by piecing together letter after letter. Word by word. It’s healing for me—this practice of rolling out words like a red carpet, smashing them like an angry kid stomping on a sandcastle, stringing sentences along like fresh linen whipping in the breeze on a clothesline.

So, sure, there are plenty of reasons why I write and keep writing.

But I bet you can guess my latest response to inquiries regarding my commitment to writing.

Sanity, it’s a good thing.

How about you—do you have something you pour yourself into that ends up replenishing your sanity?

*photo by stock.XCHNG

8 Signs You Are Falling into the Comparison Trap

Have you ever been cruising along on course until at once a vine entraps your leg yanking you down what feels like an endless hole? Yeah, hasn’t really happened to me either. Except metaphorically it has. Seems to be a regular thing for my cognitive labyrinth. Par for the course for writers. I think it’s because we’re highly attuned to our surroundings (yeah, that’s it).

No matter, it happens. We’re all vulnerable to fall into the comparison trap. It’s one thing to challenge ourselves, to engage in healthy competition, but it’s something else entirely when our self-worth and our sense of being tumbles into the trap. It’s important to remain on guard for vines desperate to tangle around our ankles and holes that appear out of nowhere.

8 Signs You Are Falling into the Comparison Trap:

Souring Outlook

When the world tints from a lyrical “What a Wonderful World” to “Welcome to the Jungle” then you know you’re likely about to hit quicksand. Sentences in your head go from “Man, what a beautiful day” to “I’m sweatin’ like a beast.” Optimism straight down the elevator shaft to pessimism central.

Shrinking Dream

Directly tied in to your souring outlook, lately you’ve also discovered your dream seems like it’s been shoved in a Ball jam jar with the lid sealed tightly on it. Your dream used to be giraffe tall, bounding across expansive plains. Now it’s a barely flickering firefly.

From Curiosity to Obsession

At first you just convince yourself you’re checking in on “her” so much because she’s your competition. “Little healthy competition never hurt anyone, right?” Not so fast. You’ve gone from a sneak peek to setting up camp on her yard, on her website, heck you’ve practically braided yourself into her hair. Time to back away from the so-called competition and evaluate the two “I”s. Investment and intention. How much time are you investing “comparing” and what are your intentions?

All about Numbers

In my industry social media has become the new “it” craze and following numbers can get a little addictive. It’s easy to lose perspective. To click on Google Analytics in the morning, noon, and night. To feed your numbers craving by assessing your Facebook page stats, blog stats, Twitter stats, heck even Pinterest stats (why leave Pinterest out of this?). Surefire indicator your foot is slipping, when numbers become your god.

Waning Love of Vocation

You used to pounce out of bed, excited to reach the drawing board. To have a crack at the craft. But you’ve lost that lovin’ feeling. It’s petered out like a Fourth of July sparkler. And to what do you owe this waning feeling? You’ve set yourself up against somebody you’re not supposed to be—some role you’re not meant to fulfill and it’s lights out for you because of it.

Green Grass Syndrome

My neighbor planted the most beautiful flower bed near her driveway. I look at it every morning in admiration (and a tinge of jealousy). Her grass is green. Her grass doesn’t have grubs. But then I visit with her and she tells me about all the other kinds of pests she deals with on her lawn. It’s never as green and bountiful as it appears, trust me.

In Want

Suddenly you are paying much more attention all you don’t have. Commercials hold more appeal. Women look prettier, glossier, with killer mascara. Moms are carrying gorgeous bags and sporting those TOMS canvas shoes. Everyone seems to be with it but you.

Seeking Validation from All the Wrong Places

We all like validation. It’s part of our wiring, to hear that we’re doing okay, that someone is proud of us, etc. But at some point we need to know and trust our own steps on the path. If you’re constantly looking behind you, to your side, or up ahead for someone to nod before you take another step, be warned that next step might very well be down a gaping pit.

What happens when you’ve fallen into a trap? It’s immensely difficult to get out. That’s why it pays to know when you’re close to losing ground. So you can stand firm, then move in the right direction at the right time. Have you experienced any of the above?

*photo by stock.XCHNG