Some days go off the rails (or weird reasons why I didn’t get my work done)

Whether you’re a small business owner like me or a homemaker or someone who works a corporate 9 to 5 or whatever, it often feels impossible to make a dent in life’s responsibilities.

I think as I get older, and as one friend keeps reminding me I have a significant birthday coming up in May, I realize it doesn’t matter. Stuff eventually gets done or it doesn’t and the important/necessary stuff rises to the top.

Or maybe that’s just because I’m good at prioritizing and fairly awesome at time management.

The last week or so has been exhausting and/or exciting depending on your point of view. I’ve scheduled a storytelling/written word workshop with Larry Sceurman at Hellertown Library at the end of May. I’m strategizing a memoir workshop this summer in the suburbs of Philadelphia. I helped with and sold books at a storytelling event at Bethlehem’s Ice House (hosted by Patchwork Storytelling Guild). I sold books and talked with poets at the third annual Poet Palooza 3 at Book & Puppet Company in downtown Easton.

I received word that Lehigh Valley Community Foundation approved my application for a Pennsylvania Creative Entrepreneurship grant, which I will use for national and local advertising. I performed my duties as president at Greater Lehigh Valley Writers Group and heard a fantastic presentation by Jill Peters.

And book orders have picked up. Still not to the level as last year, but enough to give me hope. I am finishing my local candidate profiles for Armchair Lehigh Valley.

Yesterday I went to the eye doctor and spent more than $500 for exam and glasses (at which point I was told, before being given the price, that they knocked 30% off everything because my insurance was crap). I tried on every pair of Parisian Phoenix pink glasses.

That got me thinking– as everything often does– that with glasses normally being updated every two years I pay about $30/month for eyesight.

And walking home from the eye doctor, I fell. So that sucked. But I’m fine, so yeah!

I received a call from my life insurance company today that I scheduled last week to convert my term life insurance into something more permanent. The bad news is, it’s probably going to cost triple my current policy. But that’s an conversation for me and another agent next week. Sigh. The insurance person kept me on the phone for 45 minutes and we may be continuing the conversation this weekend as she has an idea for a book.

In other news, my blind friend Nan received a print poetry book from a small press recently. We had ordered a braille one, and so I tracked down their email and reached out to see if there had been a mistake. Turns out they made an error so Nan will be getting her book. It felt good to resolve that and get her the book. And I wanted the small press to know there is a real need for these braille books.

Also today I applied for and received a business American Express. I’ve had a personal AmEx for quite some time but now the business is established enough that it can have and should have its own card. No more Ingram bills on my personal card. Yay! (And yes, I do have business banking, but the business account doesn’t always have the assets for large print orders.)

Finally, let me offer you this photo of Eva’s dog wearing Gayle’s sticker from Jury Duty.

Resources and their impact on disability memoir

I don’t know about you, but as I grow older, routines become more and more important to me– because otherwise I simply don’t squeeze all the tasks and items into my day that I think I should. That’s how things I enjoy, like updating this blog, get neglected.

For instance, I never wrote an entry about my single-shot marathon drive from Atlanta home.

But I was working with Nancy yesterday (and she managed to submit something like four poems and an essay while I was with her) and she nudged me in that subtle way. I mentioned that I had gone to the cardiologist the day prior, and that led to a discussion of the fact that most of my current writing time has been dedicated to my medical advocacy/ disability memoir.

“Good,” Nancy said. “I think that’s an important one. Because unlike so many people that write disability books, you’re a normal person.”

I had to pause for a moment and I almost laughed.

“Because so many books by disabled authors come from people with resources?”

While that statement is not 100% true– I know several disabled authors who use the Amazon platform to promote and distribute their fiction– it says something about disability-themed literature and memoir of past generations (I am Generation X and Nan is a Boomer.)

Spending some time in the Barnes & Noble database

For fun, I just searched DISABILITY on the Barnes & Noble website. The search yielded only academic titles. I searched DISABILITY FICTION and got only 22 results, mostly academic books, and one book only available in ebook, published by Draft2Digital, and clicking on the author’s link led me to believe he is an independent author who has published at least twelve titles only in ebook format. The author is also a horror filmmaker, nearing 60-years-old and appears to be white and able-bodied.

When I search DISABILITY MEMOIR, I find twenty results– many of them self-published, several by Boomers (on topics like polio, at least three of those, hey GenZ have you heard of polio? Another on surviving Tuberculosis and living in sanitariums), many on parenting, and many on learning disabilities.

MEDICAL MEMOIRS yielded more results (50 instead of 20) and the boldest words that popped from thumbnails were cancer and survival and the occasional miracle. When I entered my own condition, CEREBRAL PALSY, the search returned more than 130 results– most either children’s picture books or academic books.

Now, I know some of you are thinking, “Why is she looking at Barnes & Noble– everyone knows there are more books on Amazon.”

Barnes & Noble, as the remaining giant big-box book retailer, offers a standard on what can be considered mainstream and the minimum threshold of “wide” versus Amazon-only distribution. And Barnes & Noble has started doing some more gatekeeping as to what self-published or print-on-demand titles can appear on their web site.

Resource #1: Time

Anyone who publishes– even if self-publishing– has a certain amount of financial or support-system resources at their disposal. It might be as simple as the self-published author who solely uses Amazon has a live-in caretaker, which could be a family member or a paid staff person, which allows them the extra time to sit at their computer and write. As a person with a disability, whether that be a mobility issue, a congenital limb difference or vision and other sensory impairment or something else, it takes a lot longer to do basic tasks alone. Ever try to button a shirt alone with a broken arm? It takes longer to bathe, to cook, to eat, to use the toilet. The whole day just takes longer and takes more energy.

And that’s without considering what it takes to monitor and take medications, how often one needs to attend physical therapy appointments or doctor visits, and potential nuisances like arranging accessible transportation, buying supplies like incontinence supplies or feeding tubes, and monitoring one’s health.

Resource #2: Knowledge/connections

There is a profoundly different experience for disabled people based on socio-economic status. There is also a gap between experiences for those people who qualify for public services, those who have private resources and those who fall in the middle.

During the pandemic, I qualified for Medicaid for the first time in my life pretty much because I lost my job at the height of Covid and did not receive any unemployment because only workers displaced by Covid made it into the system. I did eventually receive unemployment, but it literally hit my bank account two days after I started my job at Stitch Fix. Because I had zero income, I qualified for food stamps and Medicaid. My Medicaid kicked in November 1, 2020 and my job at Stitch Fix started one week later and they provided health insurance on day one.

I submitted all my paperwork. My food stamps ended, but Medicaid did not, because of the pandemic. Despite me periodically sending updates reinforcing that I had private insurance, my Medicaid remained. Do you know when they canceled it? When Stitch Fix laid me off. I submitted my application to renew my Medicaid and they denied me because their system hadn’t uploaded my daughter’s prove of being a college student and I didn’t notice. The system didn’t send me a notice that said, “Hey, this item is missing.” Just denied the whole application. So, I have spent the last year as a disabled entrepreneur with a high deductible medical plan which means I recently paid $2,000 out of pocket for an MRI. It also means I am not seeing my specialists as often as I should.

Meanwhile, I know someone who recently not only qualified for Medicaid but also receives government disability payments, also an entrepreneur, who probably makes more money than I do. I have an Office of Vocational Rehab Counselor who has listed me in her highest category of disability, but in the last six months, I have received nothing actionable as support.

Access to social workers, whether professionally in a hospital or even through friends or non-profits can help make sense of what is possible, but without guidance it’s really hard. Another barrier is technology. That one might make a reader bristle, but not all technology makes life easier. Sometimes technology requires practical or financial resources to be useful. Nancy, as a blind person, has struggled with internet access. She has never owned a computer, and she has tried various ways to use the world wide web. Her Fire tablet worked well until the charger failed way too quickly. She has a Blindshell cell phone she uses on wi-fi to check her gmail account, and an Alexa device to handle music, time and reminders.

But recently, NASA discontinued its TV station, guiding viewers to use the NASA Plus app instead. Alexa does not have a skill for NASA Plus. Her Blindshell can’t open links from NASA Plus. And she can occasionally stumble upon a usable link for NASA’s videos on YouTube, but not reliably. She’s now considering a Fire Stick, but she’s considered she won’t be able to easily scroll the thumbnails to find the launches that interest her.

I mention this because the resource of knowledge and connections, many of which we consider technology-dependent, will change the disability experience. The people who will produce memoirs will have more access to knowledge and technology. Even in able-bodied households, not everyone has access to these items.

Resource #3: Money

A lot of the memoirs I have read come from households with financial resources. It could be as simple as having a stay-at-home mom who could be a caretaker. It could be as complex as a disabled person having access to expensive custom schools or having enough savings to take time off work for long treatments or training opportunities. These advantages lead to better education, better adaptability in the world and also empower the person who had these opportunities stories they can share with the world.

Not to mention many disabled authors work with specialty editors or vanity publishers to create their work and that requires cold, hard cash.

Resource #4: Support

Similar to the time resource, support covers the system that helps a person on a day-to-day or as-needed basis. The support of family, friends and caretakers contributes to a person’s time, their skill and their self-worth to lead them to write a book. That could also include a teacher or mentor. Some disabled people might need a typist, or an outside researcher, to help them with their tasks.

For disabled people who use most of their time and energy on survival items, writing a book might not be a possibility. This also covers the emotional support– I would guess that most disabled published authors are people who have been told they have a message worth sharing.

Resource #5: Past Experience

Finally, I consider past experience a resource. This may pertain more to medical memoirs versus disability memoirs, but that is my gut feeling and not fact. Most people want to read “hopeful” stories with happy endings. And therefore I wonder if memoirs that feature “miracles” or “cures” might be more appealing and accepted than chronic illness/lifelong disability books.

If an able-bodied person experiences an illness or an accident and writes a book, he or she will write with their previous experience in mine. The journey present in the story will be “before,” “accident/diagnosis,” “after,” and “end,” whether than end is death, healing, or acceptance. Stories with this framework will inadvertently compare the disability or medical part of the story to the unhindered before time, and the goal will always be to regain what was lost.

For most disabled people, the reality is learning to live with the condition and doing what is needed to prevent a decline in quality of life.

Regardless of what resources or goals a writer has when dealing with their own disability or medical situation, it’s important to remember when we read memoir that everyone’s lives have different challenges and their are many ways to deal with any situation.

Poetic solo adventures

Today, I donned my publisher hat and I drove to Bernards Township Public Library in Basking Ridge to support poet and filmmaker McKenna Graf. McKenna publisher her second volume of poetry with Parisian Phoenix Publishing after self-publishing her poetry debut. Her next event is in Manhattan on August 22, 6 p.m., at the Barnes & Noble on the Upper East Side.

I started my day with a squawking cockatoo, and then proceeded to come downstairs with the intent to write a draft of my upcoming political profiles for Armchair Lehigh Valley and I did an hour of work on it. But for some reason sifting through Milou Mackenzie’s different Pennsylvania house bills spiked my anxiety and allowed that little voice to take hold. You know– the negative thoughts voice that says, “You can’t do this.” And/or “all your effort is meaningless.”

But, I know I have a road trip today so I eat a hearty breakfast, deliver Eva to her father’s car, and order my Panera iced tea. In the adventurous spirit of a road trip, I go to a different Panera and I love that there drive-through is a straight lane. But what I do not realize as I drive up is that they finally tore down the Phillipsburg Mall.

They have been saying that they were going to demolish the Phillipsburg Mall probably for a decade– and all the reports stating that the anchor store Kohls would be the only part of the mall left standing. This Panera was on one of the pad sites at the mall. (A quick Google search tells me that Crown American opened the mall in 1985, a key time period for malls, and that the stores vacated in 2019-2020. Supposedly a warehouse will be erected on the site. Because every warehouse needs a department store next door.)

In the late 1990s and early 2000s, especially when I worked in the area as a journalist, the Phillipsburg Mall was probably my favorite in the region.

The Author Talk

The drive to the library was uneventful. The Bernards Township Public Library appears a fairly modern vibes with the architectural feel of a small elementary school. McKenna did a wonderful job reading her poems and answered questions with ease during the chat portion of the program.

These are the moments when I very much love what I do, and these are also the moments when I get to contemplate how much the community built by a publisher influences everyone involved with it.

McKenna said several astute, thought-provoking items:

  • Self-publishing her first book put her in control of her own destiny instead of waiting for someone to deem her worthy. I would describe this a little differently: that self-publishing gave her a hands-on understanding of the industry which allows her to navigate and negotiate her future with less naivete.

  • Each book/work/poem represents a moment in time, and as such, they will never be perfect. And despite their imperfections, poems will always convey the feeling they need to share.

  • During her recent intensive geology class that toured National Parks in Utah and Arizona, poetry allowed her to grapple with something difficult. As she struggled to learn the complex scientific knowledge of the course, she used poetry to translate it. And she then made herself a photo book of the unedited work to capture the moment in time.

McKenna sold some books. I made some social media posts. I wove around the streets of Basking Ridge to entertain myself and I headed home.

Road Trips Snacks

On the way home, if I wanted to be a nice person, I needed to stop and put gas in the car. I noticed a sign for QuickCheck and that’s one of Eva’s favorites so I figured I would stop there. I discovered it was on Perryville Road, which is pretty darn close to her surname. I figured I’d run in the convenience store and get a snack (but hopefully nothing too crazy as I have lost four pounds) and then get gas.

I decided on a cup of their Kris Kringle iced coffee with light cream, apple slices and Lenny & Larry’s complete creme bricks… I mean cookies. The package said they had 15 grams of protein and 130 calories. So why not?

Gas was fifty cents a gallon cheaper than in Pennsylvania and it’s always a nice treat to have someone else pump it. The coffee had coconut and vanilla notes, which made me regret getting a small as I could have easily finished a large. I ate the apple slices (probably my first serving of fresh fruit this week) while waiting for the car to fill.

And wouldn’t you know as soon as I ended up on the road again the damn oil light came on. And the car is scheduled for an oil change in eight days.

The drive home was also lovely, and I enjoyed singing along to my music.

But if you’re curious about the cookies–

They tasted like hard discs of sprinkles. The vanilla flavor was that candy-ish flavor one gets from sprinkles, but the texture was hard, and I don’t mean hard like a cookie wafer but hard like an almond. When I got home to examine them closer I saw each serving had 130 calories, but each package of six cookies was three servings. So I had wasted almost 300 calories on some awful cookies. In addition to protein, they had some potassium and iron. The ingredient list looks like the whole cookie is wheat, pea protein and oil.

Journaling as a reset

A good portion of what I am going to write today will probably reappear in a smoother format over on the Parisian Phoenix Publishing page. (ParisianPhoenix.com) My brain is swirling. My frustration tolerance is low. Anxiety is taking advantage of point one and point two to paralyze my concentration.

These are growing pains. These are the realities that accompany change and even more so, success.

Cocktail contemplations

Last night, I really would have loved a cold beer to sit and sip while I pondered the events of the last few days– but my frugal self would not justify spending money on something so frivolous nor did I want to put on shoes. So I opted to make a cocktail of whatever we had in the house. We had grenadine (the kind with alcohol), creme de menthe and creme de cacoa, because a few weeks ago I had a craving for a grasshopper. That was short-lived. Since then, my occasional cocktail has been a creme de cacao and Coke Zero, because who doesn’t appreciate a chocolate Coke?

Last night I opted to skip the mixer and head toward “Dirty Girl Scout” territory, but I didn’t measure so my pour led to slightly chocolatey mint drink.

Why did I desire a cocktail last night? Because…

Sex Down South Atlanta

I was sitting in my reading chair, hoping to capitalize on the cool evening breeze and spend some time with my cats and my naughty Goffin’s cockatoo. I need to proofread McKenna Graf’s upcoming poetry book, review Larry Sceurman’s new middle-grade dragon story, and somehow manage to not only score some time for my ghostwriting client, but also prepare for the upcoming comic con in Phillipsburg and finish my workshop for Greater Lehigh Valley Writers Group.

Let’s be honest. Comic con is a Friday problem, and this was Wednesday. GLVWG is a Sunday problem, and again this is Wednesday. But the other stuff was/is yesterday/today problems.

I receive an email from the organizers of Sex Down South Atlanta. It talked about the 200+ presenters that proposed workshops and they were sorry they could not accept them all. They told us all we could have a discount code to come to the conference and shared the list of accepted workshops.

Now, a friend of mine had proposed a workshop and I was her accountability partner for getting the proposal in. At the last minute she told me to enter a proposal and I laughed– because what do I have to offer at a big sex conference? She said they had a category for writing and erotica.

So, I entered a proposal.

I opened the file attached to the email last night to see if my friend’s workshop was selected. I did not see it. I scroll through the list and reach #31 and see: Explore Your Fantasies and Write Your Own Erotica, and I think, that sounds like a nice offering. As I finish the sentence, my jaw drops to the floor. It reads: Explore Your Fantasies and Write Your Own Erotica with Angel.

My workshop description

Which means the acceptances and the rejections went out in the same email. My proposal was accepted.

I went through my files looking for the proposal and sighed with relief that 1. I have it and 2. It’s reasonable. I spent the rest of the evening talking with friends. Because I’m shocked. And excited. And wondering how the heck I am going to pull off traveling to Atlanta. But that’s a future problem.

So that’s why I needed a cocktail and why my brain is even more overextended and fried than usual.

First Day of GLVWG Write Stuff

So today was the first day of the 2024 Write Stuff Conference with Amy Deardon on marketing and Melissa Koberlein on podcasting. The morning presentation provided an overview marketing checklist. The afternoon workshop allowed participants to workshop some ideas for podcasting to provide a realistic overview of what it takes to put a podcast together.

The conference will continue through April 13th, with a small workshop setting with keynote Jonathan Maberry tomorrow and a series of sessions on Saturday with Maberry, Deardon, Koberlein and YA author Jordan Sonnenblick and appointments with editor Donna Tollarico of Hippocampus magazine, agent Mark Gottlieb and agent Marie Lamba. As I maneuvered cookies from the dining salon to our meeting room 1,000 steps away on the other side of the hotel, I ran into Jonathan as he was checking into the hotel.

I saw the leftover cookies on the buffet table and felt it was my duty to transport some to the workshop room to combat the afternoon slump.

It’s always interesting to see the energy in the room and what people are looking for from an event such as a writers conference.

Personally, I’ve been devouring books by Sonnenblick and Maberry– finishing Curveball last night and INK earlier this week.

Just get it out there

Since I lost my job at Stitch Fix in September, I’ve been working hard to build my business, Parisian Phoenix Publishing. And it’s not easy. I have a lot of long days and many things– like reading and creative writing– that used to be hobbies are not work.

I’m constantly balancing what to do with my time. Should I work on personal projects? Paying clients? Unpaying clients? Authors? How much time do I spend at Barnes & Noble versus Book & Puppet (my local independent bookstore)? How many titles should the publishing company release this year? How much freelance journalism should I pursue? How many events should I attend? How many self-published and/or local authors can I support by buying and reviewing their books, especially when only about 20% return the favor?

But one choice that was easy to make was attending last week’s Podcasting 101 community education class at Northampton Community College at their Fowler Center in Southside Bethlehem. My friend and trusty photographer Joan suggested it, with her musical background, my past obsession with podcasts and my hope to start recording miniaudio books.

We invited our partner-in-crime Gayle to join us beforehand at El Jefe for tacos, though we all got burrito bowls.

Podcasting 101

Our class was led by Demetrius Mullen, host of The Single Parent Conflict, and covered a basic overview of all of the elements of creating and uploading a podcast. He’s also a bit of a voice-over actor so imagine my surprise when I heard his “professional voice” versus his everyday one. I now understand what my daughter always meant when she said, “You’re using your journalist voice.”

I love exploring new topics and ideas in classes like this one. They are usually inexpensive and offer a safe environment to dip proverbial toes in the water. I’ve taken other community education classes– like vegan cooking (have the best cobbler recipe ever from that one) and six weeks of Irish Gaelic (my first foray into impractical languages).

At the most basic level, making a podcast involves six basic steps:

  1. Have the mindset. This means not finding excuses. It doesn’t matter if you record, edit and upload your podcast 100% from your phone if you have to, challenge yourself to do it. Accept that you will learn and grow and perhaps be embarrassed by your initial attempts, but keep in mind that it takes time to build momentum, market and develop a following.
  2. Gather your hardware. To simplify this, this means having somewhere to record and edit the podcast. It could involve computers, XLR cables, and microphones, but it also could be simply you and your phone. Demetrius’ advice was to invest your energy in learning and honing the content of your podcast before spending money on equipment that might not even be necessary or before you know exactly what would suit you best.
  3. Learn your software. If you want to have a decent podcast, you’ll have to learn to edit it. There are a variety of free or inexpensive options on the market. And if you’re an Apple user, you have Garage Band.
  4. Record. Sit down and record your content.
  5. Edit, save and export. Again, there are a variety of podcasting services from Buzzsprout to Spotify for Podcasters (formerly Anchor.fm), some with free and some with paid plans. All you need is an MP3 and an ability to read and follow directions.
  6. Upload. Once you have your MP3, release your creation into the universe.

Perhaps this will renew my interest in creating a show author interview show involving a craft topic, followed by an excerpt, short story or poem from the Parisian Phoenix catalog to demonstrate the principle. My larger goal is to use this as a training ground for audio editing and speaking for audio so that we can start production on Parisian Phoenix audiobooks.

Podcast Workshop with GLVWG

Yesterday I presented a workshop at the Greater Lehigh Writers Group on the use of podcasts to research, improve and market your writing (at least, that was the morning program) and how to be a good interview guest, whether you are working with journalists or podcasters.

It was a super fun day with my partner-in-crime William D. Prystauk, who wrote The Kink Noir series and the new horror novel The Hanging Girl.

I wasn’t sure if my audience would embrace the idea of using podcasts as a source of inspiration and information, but they did. And we had a fun time writing materials and doing mock podcast interviews.

I received a few thank you emails after the presentation and that meant a lot to me. The day went very quickly!

I share snippets of the information I provided in the sessions in the Greater Valley Writers Group newsletter column I write every other month.

Stream of consciousness: real talk

It’s almost 8:30 on a Saturday morning. This post will probably be babble, but I have a feeling it might resonate in a “real life” way. Like let’s not talk about Facebook perfect lives or fun on YouTube.

This is life with a teenager, a stressful job, three cats, three budgies and a Goffins cockatoo.

This is life. I have had the divorce papers in my possession for months but I just don’t want to sit down, fill them out, and file them. Not because I want to save my marriage but because it’s one more thing to do. It sometimes feels like my choices boil down to “file for divorce” or “do the dishes.” Neither situation will resolve without me taking the lead.

I can’t even articulate the chaos swirling around my head right now, let alone the chaos in it.

I have two parakeets flying around my head. One still timidly standing in his cage singing, not ready to come out. Wink, the blue budgie, has decided to eat the molding above my bedroom door (luckily not the visible side but the top) and fling chunks to the floor.

The big dumb cat raced into my room to sleep on my bed, and he looks just as perplexed as Nala does that critters are flying over head.

I did learn parrots can be potty trained. If you’re interested in that: Parront Tip: Potty Training. I also learned parrots need a lot of sleep. I should probably move my supper time to 6:30 or 7 so I can spend time with her and then put her to bed before I eat.

Today, I crawled out of bed at 6:30ish. In part, because Nala already knows when I get up for work and plucked a feather and screeched. The night before I had a bout of insomnia, not sure if it was hormones, work-stress or home stress but I only got five hours sleep. So getting seven hours last night felt magnificent.

Nala pooped on me right away, and all I had on was a t-shirt and underpants. We went to make coffee, feed the cats, and I made her tea. She pooped on me again. Time for a clean t-shirt.

I stepped on the scale and saw that I am almost back to my pre-holiday weight. I’m happy with that. I’m in a comfortable range. Now I just need to get back into routine with my weights.

I read one page of Zazi in the Metro (which I bought more than a month ago). The book club meeting is Friday. So much for that new social activity.

Booboo keeps investigating Nala. Speaking of Nala, between her and the kitten (whom the teenager now firmly believes is a boy) I think I have to cancel the trip to DC I was planning next weekend. I’m really disappointed. I know the teen can stay home and care for the pets. But it’s too soon for me to leave Nala. And I can’t take her to be boarded because that’s where I got her and she’ll think she’s been abandoned.

And I also noticed she’s not banded. Most birds are registered and have a band on their ankle. Nala does not.

Journaling across generations

I started keeping a journal after a writing workshop at University of Pennsylvania that I attended as a high school student. I kept them faithfully for at least a decade, tapered off in my consistency after the birth of my daughter, experimented with forms (most recently adapting a bullet journal style) and renewed my habit in the last few years but still not with the same devotion I once did.

I used to fill a standard cheap journal in a month. Larger, fancier volumes took longer. I color coded a lot of my text. One color for fiction, one color for poetry and another for personal experience. That sort of thing.

The blank ones included sketches. Briefly, I used calligraphy pen and even briefer a fancy fountain pen.

My current fascination is Alphabooks, blank journals in the shape of alphabet letters. I found the A on clearance. My husband had recommended his mother buy me the N for Christmas as it is the second letter of my name, but I fooled them and mentioned if I had the chance I would continue the series with B and write alphabetically.

I also have an affinity for Sharpie pens. I bought a set in August 2016 and they are still going strong.

Eventually, my journals ended up in a box in the attic. Or, several boxes, more accurately.

My now 13-year-old daughter has always been captivated by the written word, always written in notebooks, constantly starting projects and ripping out pages (and never finishing). She has started working on her own stories, but journaling hasn’t held her interest.

 

But she keeps asking to read my journals. I cringe.

I tell her she needs to remember that journals have a lot of angst in them, a lot of unfiltered, unedited thoughts and that what I say in these journals might not always be… well… nice or even what I would say on a different day. And some of my tales might color her opinion of the people she knows, even her own family.

But she keeps asking.
I bought her a nice journal for Christmas. And a HUGE set of Flair pens. She has journaled for 15

days straight. She starts on her journaling journey as I wonder if mine has been worth it. Who wants to read that drivel? There are so many volumes are they worth sifting through? Do I say hateful things?

She asked again. She volunteered to get them from the attic. We sorted through the boxes and at some point I had labeled the cover of the journal with the major events of that time period. I selected a pile of about ten I said she could read.

She started with the journal that included when her father and I got married.

She’s read me excerpts: story ideas I’d forgotten about, adventures and misadventures,

my life as a vegetarian. My favorite thus far has been a poem about my nephew when he was about 3, and a page where he scribbled in my journal. Then my daughter found a journal where she was 2, and I let her scribble in my journal.

So I guess those journals are worth something.

The wonder and brilliance of children

I am far from a perfect parent. I show my daughter my strength and also my weakness. 

I love children. If I had more patience, I would have spent more time with as many of them as possible. 

A little boy occasionally comes into the store where I work in the café. I believe he comes with his grandmother and by the time they reach me, she seems exasperated. And I know why.

They have their shopping bags. They are ready to leave. She offers him a pizza.

He’s about four and he never stops talking. And I try my best not to interrupt him because my manners need to demonstrate how people listen to and engage others. Then the questions start.

It’s Easter week. The store is busy. At this particular moment, I’m momentarily caught up and there’s no one waiting. 

So I answer his questions. These aren’t dumb questions, these are “how things work” questions. What is that light? What’s that sound? I explain everything he asks about, even though his grandparent clearly wants to go. But he’s processing, he’s learning, and maybe someday he’ll be a scientist or an engineer because of this interest in how things work.

But now, my daughter.

I frequently help my friend Nancy with her writing career. Nancy is an essayist and poet. She’s also blind so sending an email, managing submissions and finding writing markets can be challenging with a sighted person at a computer. Her diligence and prolific work habits inspire me so the relationship is mutually beneficial.

My daughter is on spring break so she joined Nancy and I at Dunkin Donuts where I sipped iced coffee flavored with pistachio and Nancy drank her vanilla chai. And we even had donuts!

When we were done working, my daughter piped in.

She thought it would be interesting if we all wrote flash nonfiction about the morning to see the different perspectives. Nancy and I were thrilled. We set word counts and pledged to write and submit this piece.

Daughter and I did ours. We love them. Can’t wait to see what Nancy does.

Made possible because we listened to a child.