Two Minutes After They Say Goodbye

What type of friend are you? I’d like to think I’ve learned a lot about being a friend over the years. I’ve enjoyed some of my greatest friendships as an adult. This topic is so close to my heart I wrote an entire novel based on the theme of friendship, only the bond in my book wasn’t a healthy one.

You can learn a lot about how healthy a relationship is from how you feel two minutes after someone says goodbye. I have two teenagers and a preteen. The topic of friendship isn’t one I’ve brushed over or skidded across lightly. It matters—who we choose as friends. And sometimes it takes time to discern whether someone is indeed that—a good and loyal friend. Here are a few questions that might help with the discernment process. After they’ve said goodbye, do I feel depleted? Exhausted? Like I’ve been manipulated or as though I’m always feeling forced to go along with them? Do I feel like the relationship is uneven in regards to give and take? Am I reflective or peaceful? Am I excited to hang out with them again? Am I too anxious to please them or make them happy? Have they invested in me in equal measure as I have them? Am I making all the efforts? Are they dangerous in any way? Have they been leading me down a path I don’t like? Am I changing into someone I don’t like because of them? Do I feel in control around them or controlled by them? Are they prone to drama, gossip, or bullying others? Do I like who I am when I’m around them? Do I feel a general sense of discomfort when I’m around them? Am I good for them?

Answering these questions may help pinpoint why a relationship has felt off for quite some time. It’s also important to be aware that sometimes we contribute to the uneasy feelings in a relationship. For example, if we are too eager to please that isn’t necessarily about the other person, but something we can work on.

As I stated, this topic is near and dear to me. In No Woman No Cry, Bob Marley sings how he’s had good friends, and how he’s lost good friends along the way. That part of the song always gets me. In the time I have left here on earth I want to be a good friend. I’ve come to understand that it’s okay to create distance from those who don’t treat me the way I deserve to be treated. It’s healthy, in fact. I’m teaching my kids the same—to surround themselves with people who make them feel valued and loved. People who lift them up, encourage them, and bring out their best qualities—not their worst.

Right now I have several dear friends going through some hardships with their teenagers. I’ve been thinking a lot about them and hoping their kids have even just one thoughtful person come into their lives, to bestow kindness. And encouragement during this trying season. I know certain individuals have made a tremendous difference in my life at crucial times.

When I think about the kind of friend I want to be I think about Lester in the non-fiction book I just read (posted about it last week—The Sun Does Shine). Lester showed up for every possible visit to be with Anthony Ray Hinton, an innocent man trying to stay hopeful for thirty years while he sat on death row. Lester encouraged in the truest sense of the word. I cried as I read the following. Ray’s dedicated lawyer had tried almost everything to get him out. There was really only one more shot at freeing him and it came with a great risk. Through years of hardship, Ray found ways to remain hopeful and positive, but this particular day he was struggling. Lester tells him, “We’re not kids anymore, Ray, and we’re not afraid. We’re going to face whatever happens. We’re going to face it, and we’re going to fight if we have to fight . . . We’re still walking home, Ray. We’re still just walking home together.”

A good friend, a true friend will be there to remind you, when you need it most that you’re walking home . . . together. That you’re not alone.

Inspiration from the Most Unexpected Place

I never imagined a man who spent years on death row would be a source of inspiration for me. Then again, I hadn’t known anything about Anthony Ray Hinton. Reason number 1,278 why I love book clubs. Hinton’s book, THE SUN DOES SHINE: HOW I FOUND LIFE AND FREEDOM ON DEATH ROW is our next read for book club.

Forty pages in, and this book has found a way to seep into my day-to-day thoughts. Hinton’s honesty, his ability to see beyond his circumstances has been revolutionizing the way I approach my day. Needless to say, I’m excited about this book. I love when inspiration comes from unexpected places. I’ve been around long enough, and open-minded to a degree where this is happens on a regular basis. I just never know where the inspiration will come from—when it will spark. I’ve learned to expect it from nature, after a lung-burning run, or while reading. And yes, I’m inspired due to reading his book, but there’s something more here. Hinton is inspiring me. Through his book, yes. But also with a greater reach—through his life.

I’m tackling some key edits on one of my novels, but I’m going to carve out some time so I can get back to reading THE SUN DOES SHINE. It’s one of those books that possesses a gravitational pull.

Have you read anything life-changing lately?

Book Club Week

I get to be spoiled this week. I’m hosting book club at my house tonight with a group that’s magically and wonderfully come together. We’ll be discussing Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens. Then, on Wednesday evening, my 6^th grader and I will join other families to discuss Forget-Me-Not by Ellie Terry in a school book club. 

I’ve been pro-book clubs for years now. Not only because I’ve garnered a tremendous amount of support from local book clubs, but also because of the powerful conversations—the connections—they have the potential to incite. The empathy. Seeing the world from someone else’s point of view. Taking us out of our own little worlds and broadening our scope. All good things.

I have to laugh sometimes when I come across mentions of book clubs in some of the novels I read. Often they’re touted as merely social gatherings. The latest thing. Think Bunco or wine tastings. I’ll always be one to argue book clubs—when there is actual discussion of books—possess an intrinsic ability to have us step outside ourselves, if only for a brief time. Book clubs remind us of our humanity, our vulnerability, our innate need for one another. They teach us to be gentle and kind to one another, while also challenging us to stand up for what we believe in.

Book clubs remind us of what’s important. And what’s not.

*Not in a book club and have no idea how to start one? Please, reach out. I’d love to help! I lived here for maybe three months before I got to work and joined not one, but two book clubs. All it takes is a love of reading and a little bit of risk-taking.

A New Kind of Birthday Song

I’m completely immersed in Birthday Land here at my house. Three girls. All born within the past eight days. And we do birthdays up around here. Signs. Special dinners. Desserts. The works. Needless to say, my mom muscles have had quite a workout lately.

Thought it might be fun to post a song I’ve really been feeling lately.

Enjoy!

Sparking Some Real Joy

Some of you may remember my obsession with finding a home for my books. I posted about it a few months ago. After putting my brain to work, I decided to establish a reading nook inside a hall closet. 

I haven’t had built-in bookshelves in the past two homes we’ve moved into. I missed seeing my books. Yeah, I know. I realize this has the potential to sound a little strange.

But people, here’s the thing (nod to Marie Kondo), my books bring me joy.

You should have seen how giddy I was when a new idea came to me—a new home for my books. And what’s even better—I created a library/craft area all in one.

A few days ago, I jumped on the project train and tackled our garage. We still had boxes everywhere, as well as all other kinds of miscellaneous items. I stacked. I sorted. I purged. I rearranged. I even painted multiple coats on the existing dingy brown shelves already tucked nicely in one corner. Then I began the process of reinventing the space. Sometimes I get so in a zone when I’m in the midst of these type of projects I neglect to take a before picture, but man, I wish you could see the difference. I’m not sure I’ve ever smiled so much while working on home project.

Say hello to my new library/craft room. Hello, books. Hello, space to be creative. Hello, pictures and memorabilia that bring me joy. I plan to keep transforming this area, but I’m thrilled with the initial results.

I hope you’re having a reflective and meaningful MLK day!

Do Your Book a Favor

The world has become rotten at waiting well. It’s as though we can no longer fathom the concept of delayed gratification. We want it, and we want it now. Over two minutes standing in line, we grow fidgety and outwardly irritated. We even resent others if their line appears to be moving faster. I witness this behavior all the time lately when I leave the house. On the roads. In stores. Even at sporting events. No one wants to wait and we’ve all seemed to lose the ability to wait well.

As an author who’s gone hard at this writing thing for over eleven years, I’ve learned there’s great value in biding time. Not only does learning to wait well serve you as a person (teaching patience, priorities, and contentment in all circumstances), it’s also invaluable for the life of a book.

So much can germinate when you grant a book time to become all it’s supposed to. Plot has the opportunity to develop. Initial pages strengthen. Characters can take center stage or die off entirely. As a prolific writer who can tackle a rough draft in three to four months, I’m always keeping this in mind—the idea of allowing a novel room and time to grow. I remind myself I’m not in a rush. The book is not in a hurry. Just the other day a new beginning to my WIP snuck up on me. Because I’ve given this book room to breathe, it’s doing exactly that—breathing. Opening me up to an enriched, textured sense of all it’s to become.

Sometimes it helps to view my role as a writer and the novel I’m working on as a cuckoo clock. The bird announces the passage of time several moments throughout the day. Those are the high points. The debut release. The day you secure an agent. But so much of a writing career and a book’s life is what happens during those other minutes—the preparation. Some cuckoo clocks have music that plays leading up to and following the bird’s appearance. Others have turning water wheels and animated figures. No matter what features a cuckoo clock may possess, the guarantee is that there’s always important work going on (hands turning) behind the scenes. A lot of good waiting. Groundwork. A scene being set. An idea fermenting. Maturity taking root. Whether it applies to your growth as an individual or the development of your book, the moment of the big reveal matters, but equally significant is what’s happening during all those other seconds.

This industry will present plenty opportunities for you to wait. Wait well, and offer your book the same gift.

I Get to Do This

New year. New goals. Same calling. Same blessed calling. If you’ve visited here before, you may have sensed I’m a little passionate about perspective. The way we approach life has the ability to influence how content we are. In recent days, I’ve been thinking quite a bit about my vocation—my stick-to-it-ness regarding writing. Glenn Close put a powerful punctuation on my thoughts with her Golden Globes award speech last night.

“I feel what I learned through this whole experience . . . we are women and nurturers . . . we have our children, and our husbands if we are lucky enough, our partners, whoever,” Close said. “But we have to find personal fulfillment. We have to follow our dreams.”

I haven’t always devoted hours a day developing characters and reimagining plot twists. I’ve waitressed, answered phones, and been responsible for planning an event where Bill Gates was the keynote speaker. I’ve strategized marketing plans, changed diapers, and managed a waterpark. I hate waterparks…not sure what I was thinking taking that job. But I can assert, without a hint of doubt, my time dedicated to writing, building stories, has been the most fulfilling.

I get to do this. I get to wake up and take care of my kids, while simultaneously working out how to strengthen my main character. I get to prepare meals and put away shoes for the one hundredth time, quickly stopping myself so I have enough time to race and jot down the running dialogue in my head. I get to invent stories. Bring people to life. Hurt and help them. Transform them. Teach through them. Learn from them.

I get to open up a world all the while understanding that world will someday soon transfer from my hands into yours. There’s nothing in the world that compares to writing for me. It regenerates me. Rejuvenates me. It reminds me I’m alive and my life has meaning.

I start 2019 dedicated to the same blessed calling and I couldn’t be any more grateful. Because of my family’s support and so much more, I get to do this.

What do you get to do?