Of Time and Space

That sounds a little like I'm going to delve into Einstein's theory of relativity, but I'm not qualified for that so I'm keeping it simple.

Recently, a friend mentioned making space in her life for a creative project. Although I've heard that expression, it resonated with me like it hasn't before, and I realized that I've been too focused on "making time" in my life. 

We can't make time. We can manage it, allocate it, save it, fritter it away, but there's only so much of it to go around. And honestly, I have enough time to accomplish what I want to accomplish, so I should have no excuses, right?

But mentally and creatively, I haven't made the space. Thinking of it that way feels like a huge shift in perspective for me right now. Space opens up room for possibility. And possibility makes way for probability.

I'm hoping Einstein (seen here in a portrait from the Museum of Illusion in Chicago) would agree.

Enjoy the last week of March. See you next month!

Small Steps

Well, last week's post didn't happen, so here we are again!

From a goals perspective, 2024 was not a great year for me. Last December, as I was thinking of goals for 2025, I got a little depressed because I felt like I was making a list of all the things I was going to fail at in the new year.

That's what overwhelm does. It makes everything feel impossible, or at the very least highly unlikely.

So I made an effort to embrace one of the strategies of Goalsetting 101: break down bigger goals into smaller steps. So fundamental, so basic, and yet as soon as I did it, I felt much better about things. Which is what happens when you give yourself permission to move forward with small steps instead of giant leaps.

Yeah, duh.

The title of Anne Lamott's classic writing book Bird by Bird is a perfect example. It comes from advice her father gave her brother when he had a big school project about birds to complete (at the last minute) and was feeling overwhelmed: "Just take it bird by bird."

January rolled over us hard and fast, and if you feel off-balance like I do, small steps can also help keep us moving forward even if we're not in pursuit of a particular goal. Sometimes, just making it to pajama time at the end of a day is enough.

Be well, and I'll see you soon!

Weekly Roundup 22: String is in the Air

String music, that is. 

I heard my first ever performance by a string octet, comprised of the Dali and Pandan string quartets, brought together by the amazing Off the Hook Arts. The venue (a local car dealership) was a little unusual, but the acoustics were good--and there was a Porsche in the room.

The piece was written by composer Felix Mendelssohn in 1825, when he was 16 (which is like middle age for a child prodigy I suppose). It is written for four violins, two violas, and two cellos. What stuck with me--aside from the spectacular music--was the anecdote about how the acclaimed third, or scherzo, movement was inspired by four lines from Goethe's Faust: 

Trails of cloud and mist
        Brighten from above;
Breeze in the trees, and wind in the reeds,
        – And all is scattered.

From those four short lines of verse, the teenaged Mendelssohn imagined and composed a piece of music which is still being performed and enjoyed almost 200 years later. 

It just makes me so happy to think about how words inspire music as much as music inspires words. I hope Goethe got to hear the Octet before his death in 1832. 

See you next week!

Weekly Roundup 10: Welcome Spring

 

I know, another flower picture. But I'm just so happy spring has arrived! And as the first flowers to emerge, crocus always lift my heart. I can't say I love the switch to daylight savings time, but it is nice to have more light in the evenings to enjoy the warming weather. 

March tends to be a more eventful month after the relative quiet of January and February. That's usually good, although sometimes I'm not ready to come out of hibernation.

It's also time for spring cleaning, when the temperatures, at least in the northern hemisphere, allow for windows to be opened. Back in the day, the coal furnaces would stop running and the soot could be wiped off the walls after what I imagine was a long, bleak winter.

In many cultures, a seasonal deep cleaning is followed by a celebration, which would definitely help me get more excited about it. As it stands, my desk could use a good tidying up, and that's probably going to be my only big project, because honestly, I'm not really a soak-the-showerhead-in-vinegar kind of person. I do hope that in organizing my desk, I will also organize my creative thoughts, which have been all over the place lately. I guess brains need spring cleaning, too.

Be well! See you next week!

Weekly Roundup 4: See Jane Inspire

Last week, I had the pleasure of  hearing Jane Fonda in conversation with Colorado State University President Amy Parsons as part of the university's Year of Democracy. 

Jane is of course well known as the actor-daughter of a famous acting family, a fitness guru of the 80s and 90s (find a recent revisit of her videos here), the ex-wife of Ted Turner, Grace in Netflix's Grace and Frankie.  

But her heart and soul belong to activism--political, social, feminist, anti-war, and environmental causes have all benefited from her generous attention and support.

Jane was very candid and forthright about the personal growth and change she had to undergo before she truly understood how to best embody her desires to make the world a better place.

And here's what's foremost on Jane's mind these days: the action needed to address our climate crisis. The lens of an octogenarian is wide, and at the same time, the 86-year-old knows her time on this planet is growing much shorter. Funny and sassy and pulling no punches, she urged the audience, regardless of age and standing, to take as much action as we can. And also not sleep with oil company executives. 

Words I Confuse: Concrete and cement. I use the words interchangeably, but they're not the same. Google just taught me that cement is made from limestone and clay and acts as a binding agent. Mix it with water, sand, and rock, and the result is concrete.  So there you have it!

Have a great week!

Writer Word of the Year

Seems like January and February both flew by in a blur of snow and sub-zero temperatures. I'm looking forward to more spring-like weather in March. But sometimes it's our snowiest month, so I'm not holding my breath.

I'm late in reporting on my word of the year, but I guess there's still plenty of 2023 left to come! I've been feeling like I'm on a plateau lately, hiking around and enjoying the view but not making much progress. That inspired me to choose "climb" as my writer word for 2023. 

As a visual aid for tracking my progress, I taped this "mountain" on the side of my desk. (I know it looks a bit like a Christmas tree, but I'm not super crafty.) Every time I complete a task that feels like progress--a query or a submission or other connection to the writerly world--I  write it on a strip of sticky note and attach it to the slope. You can see them at the bottom left. 

I have six now (I didn't get this sorted out until well into February) but I hope to make it to the top by the end of the year.

Wish me luck on my climb. And please share your inspiration for 2023 in a comment!

See you next month!

February Seed Update

 Guess what, friends? I have sprouts!

Only three so far, and they're still tiny. But seeing them reminds me that spring will come eventually. And that makes today's weather a little easier to handle.

As we ease into February, I'm also thinking of ways to grow better habits. Google, of course, has hundreds of suggestions, but this one caught my eye:

Plan your day the night before

I don't often do this unless I have an unusually big day ahead. But planning the ordinary days is just as important. It's so easy for me to lose a sense of accountability when the daily stakes feel small. So, planning my day the night before is my #GrowGoal for February!

Have a wonderful week, and thanks for all good the seed-sprouting vibes!

 

Writer Word of the Year 2022

Happy New Year! I hope you've all made it to the first Wednesday in January in good shape and are getting a feel for what you might want to accomplish this year. (Or maybe you don't want to accomplish anything other than just living your life, and believe me, no judgment here.)

My word for 2021 was Discipline, and as I've admitted, it was not a good choice. Patience would have been better. Or acceptance. Grace. I thought discipline might motivate me, but it turns out I needed a different kind of energy. Less taskmaster, more cloud-gazer.

This year's word, Grow, popped into my head a month or so ago, and it clicked immediately. (To my surprise and delight, my fresh-cut Christmas tree seemed to confirm the choice by unfurling soft baby needles over the past few weeks.) 

I've chosen grow for a few reasons. First of all, I really like to grow things. I love seeds that sprout in a paper cup and plants that tendril gently from their pots. I love the crawl of cacti and the sprint of mint. I love moss and avocado pits and Tillandsia air plants.

Growth can be surprising and unpredictable. Those are good things for writers, especially regarding first drafts, one of which I will be working on this year. Growth can mean getting better at doing something or getting better at not doing something. Growth can be as tiny as an alpine flower or as massive as a coastal redwood. Growth is potential realized.  

Last year at Christmas, my family and I spent some (Covid-safe) time in Arizona. Good friends sent us home with oranges from their tree, and I planted a few of the seeds on New Year's Day 2021. Here's what my little orange grove looks like today. Not astounding growth, but slow and steady. Just like me.

I hope you'll stop by often to see what's growing. Best wishes for health and happiness in the coming year!

Joy Project: Freedom

Photo credit: Nathan Sundstedt

Whew, April's Blogging from A to Z Challenge set me a little behind schedule, but I don't want to let this month go by without posting about the third chapter in the book Joyful. This chapter's aesthetic is Freedom, which is a complex ideal right now as many of us are feeling physically, socially, and psychologically confined by the coronavirus pandemic. But in some cases, those restrictions are actually opening up our lives in unanticipated ways.

Ingrid writes that "Joy thrives on the alleviation of constraints," which seems completely at odds with the increase in constraints we are all experiencing. I'm finding personally, however, that some of those constraints are balancing out. Yes, I have to work from home, but I can do it without business casual. No, my husband and I can't take the beach vacation we planned, but we can use that time and money to make long-needed improvements to our landscaping. And if no one has been to the supermarket in a while and we don't have much to cook for a meal, we all just fend for ourselves.

Much of the Freedom aesthetic doesn't have to do with coming and going. It's really about the feeling of freedom that comes from removing or mitigating obstacles that block us. That could be as simple as rehoming a piece of furniture that doesn't quite work or stepping away from your technology for a while.

But the best freedom is found by going outside in nature, or bringing nature in. Research shows that people living with more access to green spaces have less stress and more contentment. Workers who sit near windows report better health and job satisfaction. Even the humble houseplant can make us feel happier. Walking about in the forest, aka forest bathing, improves immune function and has been a public-health initiative in Japan since 1992.

We humans are deeply connected to nature down to the molecular level. So I encourage you during this unsettled time to experience and appreciate nature as often as you can--at a safe social distance, of course, and taking all appropriate precautions. Get a houseplant and give it a name. Plant some seeds and flowers. Victory gardens are a thing again--although in all honesty, mine will likely be more of an uneasy truce.

Be well, everyone! Find some joy today!

 

Meet Jeffrey

The Reveal

This post was supposed to happen last week, but sometimes even small projects take me longer than they should. Anyway, here I am with the reveal: I painted one wall of my office space and swapped the large desk with hutch for the smaller desk that was in my bedroom. Oh, and I got a new lamp.

Before:

After:

Color choice is really hard for me, probably because I know I'm bad at it. After lots of thought, I decided on yellow, because my writing space is in the basement and doesn't get a lot of sunlight. I wanted something that would pop--you know, that whole energy/joy thing. In the end, I chose a color called Geographic Yellow. I assume it's a reference to National Geographic, which brought thoughts of travel and adventure to mind. When I got it on the wall, however, it reminded me more of macaroni and cheese. (The perfect color for a Kraft room, ha ha.) 

I didn't love it at first, but it's been almost two weeks now, and I think the color is growing on me. It certainly does liven up the wall! And the big desk looks much better in its new home, so I guess this project is an overall improvement. Whether the change jump-starts my creativity is yet to be determined. Fingers crossed!

If you missed my first installment of Local Joys, pop on over to my other blog and check it out!

Joy Project: Energy

In the first chapter of Joyful, author Ingrid Fetell Lee focuses on energy, and it couldn't come at a better time for me. For at least two months, I've been feeling as flat as an open bottle of New Year's champagne that gets pushed to the back of the fridge and poured out a week later. But what exactly does it mean to feel energetic? A good night's sleep, a caffeine fix, or a brisk walk all boost my energy, but what affects whether an environment changes my energy in a positive or negative way?

Lee breaks it down into two components: color and light.

If you look at your surroundings right now, I hope you see a burst of color. But if you're American, chances are you might not. We are, Lee writes, chromophobic, or afraid of color. Many of us run-of-the-mill Americans do not grow up in a culture of color. We learn to see bright colors as "childish and frivolous," whereas neutrals come across as "mature" and impart a message of "self-restraint."

This may be true, but I think a lot of us aren't afraid of color as much as we're afraid of using it wrong. I blame HGTV and the like for giving us so many messages of the importance of being on trend. Why would I want to commit to this year's blue when next year, it's going to be saffron yellow or whatever? We need to give ourselves permission to choose what we love, and kindly tell the color gurus at Pantone to kiss off.

The other component to energy is light. A great deal of research backs up the health benefits of sunlight or broad-spectrum artificial light, so I won't go into details here. Suffice it to say that light helps us feel happier, healthier, and smarter. Moreover, light is "color's power supply." When photons of light hit an object, the ones that are reflected back to our retinas are perceived as color. We see short wavelengths as the color blue, long ones as the color red, and so on. According to Lee, this "alchemy" between light and color lies at the heart of the energy aesthetic. 

Makes sense, right? Now that I have a better understanding about the importance of color and light, my homework is to implement them in a way that puts the bubbles back in my champagne, so to speak. Because I'm not a big project person, I have just a few small tweaks in mind for my writing space. I hope you'll come back next week to see what that looks like!

    

  

Joy Project 2020

Well, hello again! I'll spare you the boring details, but January really got away from me! And here we are, almost a week into February.

The critique group I belong to has a nice tradition that I've noticed has grown more popular over the past few years. Instead of making writer's resolutions, we each choose a word to inspire and guide us through the new year. In the past, most of my words have been practical and/or action-oriented. Structure, for example, and engage.

But this year, I needed a different type of word. 2019 wasn't a stellar writing year for me. It took forever to get anything accomplished, and when I did...(insert cricket sound here). Almost every connection I made, whether online or in person, went nowhere, and by September, I felt like I was just throwing my time and energy into a bottomless well.

(It's funny how it's great to have a bottomless well when you're drawing from it, but terrible when you're doing the opposite. But I digress.)

I knew I needed a word for 2020 that might help me reconnect with my writer self. Love didn't seem quite right, because even when I hate writing, I still love it, if that makes sense. Fun didn't quite fit, either, because I don't expect that writing will always be fun. In the end, I settled on the word Joy, which combines elements of love and fun and also a spark of energy that I have been sorely missing as of late.

At Christmas, I mentioned this to my sister, who is creative and wise and wonderful in so many ways, and she gifted me with the book Joyful: The Surprising Power of Ordinary Things to Create Extraordinary Happiness. The author, Ingrid Fettell Lee, has a background in design and a deep interest in the aesthetics that promote feelings of joy. "At the heart of the book," she writes, "lies the idea that joy isn't just something we find. It's also something we can make, for ourselves and for those around us."

Lee devotes a chapter to each of her ten "aesthetics of joy." For the next ten months, starting in February, I am going to work on bringing each aesthetic into my life and will report back here with my results. In between, I'll post other random stuff when the mood strikes me.

I hope your 2020 is off to a wonderful start, and I'll leave you with this quote from Emily Dickinson:

"Find ecstasy in life: the mere sense of living is joy enough."

Semi-Random Acts of Kindness

I'm pressed for time these last few days before Christmas, which is what usually happens to me despite my best intentions. So this post will be short and sweet. This week, I decided to take advantage of all the goodwill in the air and perform daily acts of kindness, which weren't planned much in advance (because I'm not that organized) but also weren't exactly random. Hence the "semi."

Here's the list: I quit procrastinating and finally made a donation to an environmental charity I support. I made room in my schedule to take my mom to get a haircut and go to lunch. I slipped a $10 bill in the Salvation Army kettle instead of my usual single. I dropped off dog toys at a local pet shelter. I sent a gift card to a young man I've never met who goes to the same university as my boys and has been diagnosed with cancer. And I took a plastic bag with me on my dog walk so I could pick up trash along the way.

Nothing earth-shattering, but we shouldn't underestimate the power of small things. This week is a Take It.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Glad Tidings to all!

An Om of My Own

Happy Wednesday! I don't know about you, but 2019 has been a stressful year so far. Not in any earth-shattering way, thank goodness, but to the point where I frequently feel on the verge of being overwhelmed. Some of it is good stress--what they call eustress, which is physically or psychologically beneficial--and some of it is definitely distress. (And that's without throwing politics into the mix.) There just don't seem to be enough hours in the day to get everything done, which is nothing new or unusual for any of us, I'm sure.

For years, I've toyed with the idea of starting a meditation practice. I was never sure how to go about it the right way, though, and I wasn't convinced I was that kind of person (whatever "that" means). Books were helpful but a little too static, and joining a class seemed too intimidating. What if my chakras started acting up in public or something? But now, well, this is one place where I have to give technology credit, because there are multiple meditation and mindfulness apps that made dipping my toe into the calm waters of meditation a whole lot easier.

After a bit of trial and error, I ended up using the (inadequately named, IMHO) app called InsightTimer. It offers 15,000 free meditations, which was a little overwhelming at first. But they are easily filtered by length and focus. I did have to set up an account, but just name and email, no credit card information. Then, I was up and running. (And by that I mean sitting and still.)

I tried a variety of meditations during the week. The shortest was a minute long, the longest was twenty. Most of them were guided, but a couple of times, I just listened to some relaxing music. I meditated in the morning, at night, and occasionally in between. Even though the guided meditations were fundamentally similar in nature, they varied a lot depending on the presenter. Different accents, different pacing, different background music... Some of them didn't quite click for me, but with 15k to choose from, it was easy to find a better fit.

Frankly, I was surprised at how much I enjoyed my meditation time. On the whole, I felt happier and less stressed this week--though that might be because we also had some very lovely spring weather. Maybe when the blizzard we're expecting hits and drops the temperature by 40 degrees F, I will be back to my normal grumpy self.

Although the Take Its are definitely piling up, I have to add this one to that list, as well.

Have a relaxing week!

When TED Talks, People Listen

   

This TED...

Hello and happy Wednesday! Considering the adversarial, and often downright ugly, tone of the news these days, it's easy to forget that the world is full of people who know and do interesting things and are willing to share them with the rest of us. I reminded myself of this last week when I decided to watch a daily TED talk.

Not this Ted.

If you are unfamiliar with TED, here's what the website says about their organization:

TED is a nonprofit devoted to spreading ideas, usually in the form of short, powerful talks (18 minutes or less). TED began in 1984 as a conference where Technology, Entertainment and Design converged, and today covers almost all topics — from science to business to global issues — in more than 100 languages. Meanwhile, independently run TEDx events help share ideas in communities around the world.

TED has also expanded to include the TED Radio Hour, TED Masterclasses, the TED mobile app, and TED-ED animations, which are short, fun videos that use fun graphics and music to explain a variety of science and lifestyle topics.

Other than catching snippets of the TED Radio Hour in my car, I've been in a TED-free zone for quite some time. It's one of those things I tell myself I should do more of--"Hey, self, you should watch more TED talks!"--but then I never actually do it. So I was grateful for my Take It or Leave It kick in the pants, because I really enjoyed my daily dose of TED.

I learned, among other things, about the physics of bubbles, the science behind human organ regeneration, and how dog noses work. I was inspired to re-think my personal narrative and persevere in the face of failure. I got some tips on how to get better at the things that really matter to me. I listened to a guy talk about how he tried something new every 30 days, which confirmed to me that small changes in our lives are much more sustainable. Last but not least, I watched a semi-compelling animation about why humans should eat more insects. (Bugs look much more appetizing in cartoon form, I must say.)

Many of the TED talks are quite short, and there was no need to devote hours and hours to broadening my world view. But once I got started, it was easy to just keep watching. All in all, this week of TED has been one of my favorite new activities, which makes this Take It or Leave It a definite Take It.

Once Upon a Time...

...there was a little girl who loved reading fairy tales. She had a two-volume set of Grimm's, one book blue and one red. As time went by, she lost track of those books. Fast-forward a few (okay, many) years, and that grown-up girl happened to come across one of the same books in a second-hand store. She bought it, because eight bucks is not bad for a big dose of nostalgia. In reading through it, she remembered a) how much she loved fairy tales, and b) she had bought a complete Grimm's Fairy Tales from Barnes and Noble a while back for next to nothing, and that big book was just hanging out in her stack, waiting to be rediscovered. So the next week's Take It or Leave It was born...

I read (at least) one fairy tale every day for a week, and I think I've identified what it is about them that captivates me: the stories collected by the Brothers Grimm are flippin' nuts. I mean, just absolutely wacko. Yes, they are full of deep symbolism and archetypes--witches, roses, mirrors, tricksters, and so on--but they're also like the craziest fever dreams a person could have. Talking animals? Of course--and also trees, streams, rocks, and bones. Glass mountains that open up and swallow whoever or whatever happens to be near? Yes, sir. A guy the size of a thumb? Sure, why not. Children made entirely out of gold? Got 'em. Well, how about a child who is a hedgehog on top and a human boy on the bottom? Him, too.

And don't forget all the scheming, double-crossing, lying, homicide, wisdom and stupidity, patience and haste, laziness and industriousness, dying and resurrection, sinning and redemption. So many themes. So many lessons and cautionary tales. So much potential for creative inspiration.

I'm glad I spent the week getting reacquainted with Grimm's tales and will continue to read through them, including the great Philip Pullman's Fairy Tales from the Brothers Grimm. For now, I'll leave you with the first two lines from a story called Fitcher's Bird, which stopped me short:

There was once a wizard who used to take the form of a poor man, and went to houses and begged, and caught pretty girls. No one knew whither he carried them, for they were never seen more.

Sweet dreams!

The Year of Take It or Leave It

Happy New Year! I hope your 2019 is off to a great start. I love New Year's Day, and I love making resolutions. Usually I break them, but, hey, at least I try to effect positive change in my life. One of my 2019 resolutions is to blog more often. But I've realized that to blog regularly, I have to have a reason more compelling than whatever happens to be on my mind at the time. Without at least a little bit of structure, it's way too easy for me to put it off. Case in point, I haven't posted here since the end of October, in preparation for NaNoWriMo. (I survived NaNo, by the way, and came away with 50,010 words of a rough but workable first draft.)

So my brilliant idea for this year is a self-imposed game/idiotic challenge I'm calling Take It or Leave It. (I don't know if this is an original idea. Probably not--some eleven-year-old Pinstagram influencer probably beat me to it--but I'm too lazy to Google it and confirm one way or another. And yes, I know Pinstagram isn't a real thing.) Every week, I will add something to my life or take something away. After seven days, I will report back about my experience and whether I'm going to take it or leave it for the long term.

As usual, I am coming into this sort of ill-prepared and sideways, but sometimes that's half the fun. (This may or may not be one of those times.) Anyway, if all goes as planned, I will make some good new habits this year, break (or at least chip away at) some bad ones, and try some new stuff. Oh, and I'll also throw in a few writing-related posts, as well.

That's it for now, but I'll be back on January 9 with my first week's report. Stay tuned!

Happy Halloween! How's Your Outline?

Happy Halloween, also known as the last day of sanity before the crazy business that is National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo. I tried, and sort of completed, NaNo for the first and only time five years ago. I say sort of, because I ended up with the required 50,000 words, but they were evenly split between two projects that have never since seen the light of day.

Because five years is long enough for me to forget about the dual pains of carpal tunnel syndrome and rampant feelings of inadequacy, I've decided to try it again. I have higher hopes--and a better outline--this year. My first novel Passing Through (see the I Wrote It tab above) was published almost two years ago, so it's high time I get cracking on the sequel. I've done as much plotting as my pantser self can handle, and tomorrow I will jump in and try make sense of it all.

(Wait... Does NaNo require that things make sense? I don't think so. Whew. That's a relief.) 

In my defense, I have completed drafts of a couple of other manuscripts in the last two years, but the inescapable fact is that I am one of those slow and methodical turtle writers. I know NaNo won't cure me in the long term, but if all goes as planned, it will kick me into higher gear, at least for 30 days.

Maybe I will drop in here at the blog to update my progress, and maybe I will just let things ride until December. Good luck to all the NaNo'ers out there! I hope we all cross that 50,000 word finish line!

--Jenny

  

All Hail the Mother Log

A month or so ago, I had the pleasure of visiting Northern California's redwood forests for the first time. The giant trees were all I had hoped for and more. As my family and I hiked around in the cool green shade well below the canopy, I felt as if I could be in another world. It seemed impossible that wildfires raged out of control less than a hundred miles away.

In the forest we also saw streams and ferns and banana slugs. And my younger son introduced me to the concept of a mother log, also known as a nurse log. (I prefer the former, so that is the term I will use.) A mother log is a fallen tree, which, through its inevitable decay, helps nurture the next generation of seedlings, as well as a whole ecosystem of plants, insects, and small animals.

The mother log collects water and provides a soft blanket of moss. It shares nutrients with new growth and, depending on where and how it fell, provides access to direct sunlight--a scarce, but necessary, commodity in a dense forest. There is also evidence that a mother log can offer resistance to pathogens. The decaying process may take hundreds of years, during which time the mother log actually contains more living matter than it did when it was alive and upright. It's such a fascinating transformation that in 2006, an artist in Seattle built a greenhouse around a rotting tree and thus turned it into an art installation. (It's called the Neukom Vivarium.)

We all have plans and ideas that fall flat. Sometimes quietly, and sometimes with a resounding crash that shakes the ground beneath us. It can be disappointing and unsettling. Even devastating. All that time and effort, all those resources, feel wasted. But what if we could look at these events not as failures but as a necessary part of the process for ensuring future growth? That brilliant endeavor which toppled so spectacularly might give rise to many more that will eventually take their place in the sun.

I have no trouble imagining potential failure. I have a harder time imagining the potential in failure. But I'm learning that even though it may be hard to see, it's still there. Just like the thousands of microbes, seeds, fungi, beetles, millipedes, and spores waiting to turn a fallen tree into a cradle full of future possibilities.

Taking a Writer's Staycation

Travel is great for writers. The more you see and experience, the more it informs your writing. But successful travel, especially with a family, depends heavily on the convergence of many factors, including work schedules, finances, school programs and projects, dog kennels, cat sitters, and how long it has been since someone in the household last threw up. It’s a miracle anyone goes anywhere. Especially if an airport is involved. (Thanks, TSA.)

Well, you think, drumming your itchy writer fingers on the table, the alternative to traveling is staying home, and what’s fun and inspiring about that? My answer is: nothing. Please go directly to YouTube and spend the next 7 ½ hours watching instructional videos for making decorative door wreaths out of the junk in your recycle bin.

If you didn’t take the bait, congratulations! You are a true writer and/or your recycle bin is empty. So I will share a little secret: you can find plenty to write about without jetting off to Reykjavik. In fact, I once spent the better part of three years doing one new thing in my hometown every week. It was a great way to renew my enthusiasm for my community, and it gave me lots of material.

If you’re interested in mining your location for inspirational nuggets, I have a few tips:

Research. Go to your local tourism website and print out a list of the top ten activities. Now, wad that into a ball and throw it on the floor for your cat to play with. Instead, pick up a real newspaper and a couple of those ubiquitous free arts and culture publications. Make a list of possible activities that will challenge you to stretch your imagination and comfort zone. If you’re anxious about going solo, find a willing friend/spouse/child to accompany you.

Ditch your car. No, don’t actually drive into a ditch. (Writers…so literal.)  Leave it behind and walk, which helps exercise both your body and your amazing powers of observation. Bring a notepad and camera (my preference) or use a smart phone to document your adventures. Pictures and notes are indispensable memory joggers when you finally quit procrastinating (ok, maybe that’s just me) and sit down to write.

Follow your nose. Venture into establishments you’ve never visited, and talk to people you encounter as you go out and about. Different neighborhoods, whether ethnic or not, often have vastly different vibes, especially in urban settings. Take advantage of the variety available in your area. Feel free to eat, drink, and be merry, all in the name of investigation.

Always mind your surroundings. Ra’s al Ghul’s advice to Bruce Wayne in Batman Begins applies to all of us. Your safety is paramount, so don’t stray so far off the beaten path that you end up somewhere you shouldn’t be. If you really want to get nitty-gritty, schedule a ride-along with your local PD.

Now, get out there and find your inspiration! 

What tips would you add for infusing your writing with local flavor?