Tuesday, March 19, 2024

How Are You Doing?

RichardsDrawings via Pixabay


 "How am I doing almost always carries 'compared to others' in parentheses."

The Paradox of Choice by Barry Schwartz

I resisted audiobooks for a long time because I thought I'd just zone out and miss a lot of the content -- and sometimes I do. When that happens, I usually switch to something else -- another book, some music, or NPR -- and come back to the book another day. 

But sometimes, especially when I'm trying to meet my book quota for the month, I try to persist. With some books, it's okay if part of the content merely washes over me. I'm reading or listening to the book for pleasure, after all, and letting sections wash over me is the auditory equivalent of skimming a page that interests me less than its surrounding content.

Why not just give up? Sometimes I do. I long ago decided that I'd never have time to read all the books I want to read and so, if one didn't capture my attention, I'd trade it for another that did. But often, especially with non-fiction, one section that doesn't grab me is followed by another that does. 

Which is exactly what happened on Saturday, and exactly how I happened upon the topic of this post. 

When I heard the quote above, I thought, "I don't really do that." I mean, I can't say I never engage in social comparison, but generally when I think about how I'm doing I think about how I'm doing. 

Part of this is age-related. As a teenager and twenty-something, I was much more likely to have that parenthetical thought, and to agonize over what it might mean that I was doing better or more poorly than my peers. But now? Not so much.

Because I'm aware that I'm no more highly evolved than the next person, I began thinking about why I no longer make that immediate social comparison and I decided that a big part of it was a decision I made over a decade ago.

I retired at 51. 

I shocked people. I scared people. 

I scared myself.

And it was one of the best decisions I ever made -- right up there with getting married and having a child. 

But it exploded my standards for social comparison. No one else I knew, especially in my profession, was considering such a thing, let alone doing it. It was a long time before I discovered the "encore careers" are a thing, and longer still until teachers (and medical professionals, among others) began prizing their mental health over safety nets and social comparison and left when the time was right for them.

My story could have turned out completely differently. I could be working at McDonald's right now or, more likely, Barnes and Noble. The risk I took could have had far-reaching negative consequences. 

But it didn't. I did my due diligence the best I could and rejected social comparison in favor of the thing that was best for me. 

And I have never regretted it.

Sometimes, social comparison is a good thing. Other times, it's an obstacle to not only happiness, but to moving forward and doing something that has the potential to make life more interesting. 

So, how am I? Pretty great thanks.

And you?

Friday, March 15, 2024

Perusing


 Lately, I’ve been gravitating to the kind of books I leaf through, consuming them differently than I read fiction or nonfiction. It started with a wonderful Kate Spade book that I treated myself to, one that I savored, reading only a few pages at a time so I could make it last. 

Shortly after I finished with that reading journey, I went to the library to return other books and look for a new novel, but nothing was really hitting the sweet spot. Not wanting to leave empty-handed (despite the fact that I have healthy to-be-read piles of the traditional, electronic, and magazine variety at home),  I wandered into the nonfiction section. I ended up choosing a home decor/design/improvement book and a book called My Bookstorein which authors share their favorite book haunts. 

I was so enthralled by the introduction and first few stories in the book on bookstores that I bought the book. 

This isn’t my first book about bookstores. (In fact I needed to look on my shelves to make sure I didn’t already own the one I just bought). Last summer, I devoured Danny Caine's How to Protect Bookstores and Why. Prior to that, I'd purchased A Booklover's Guide to New York from the New York Public Library Shop, a volume I'm still savoring.

When I retire, I want to put together a bookstore tour, visiting some of these bookstores that I keep reading about. While I'm sure my daughter would agree to be a travel companion for that trip, I think my husband would prefer some different itineraries. 

That’s reasonable. No reason we can't do both.

But someday, I look forward to wandering into the places described in these books, whether as an author (doing an event) or a reader. My visits to those with cats will be brief (I'm allergic) and sadly, I'll be unlikely to make purchases there, but anyone who'd be interested in a tour like this knows that means only one thing.

More money to spend at the next stop.  

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

Revisiting


 In early January, I met my goal of finishing the first draft of my latest novel. Now, having integrated the feedback I received from my critique group, I'm ready for the next step.

Revising.

Revising and I have a rocky history. Just ask Kelsey, the protagonist in another novel that's been gathering dust for years. 

I learned from Kelsey, though, as well as from the rejections I received for a recent non-fiction project. I've set up a routine and goals that take those lessons into account, and I'm optimistic that I've created a process I can stick to as I "revisit" this novel.

Today, I followed my process and worked through the first two chapters. It was relatively painless, leaving me excited to keep going.

Two chapters down, 34+ to go. 

Wish me luck. 

Wednesday, March 6, 2024

Home Sweet Home


 This 2013 post seemed an apt follow up to yesterday's :-)

It's funny how there are places that work their way into our hearts and reside there long after we've left them. Though I spent my childhood in Pennsauken, NJ, it is Haddonfield, the town my family moved to when I began middle school, that I think of as my home town. It was in Haddonfield where I learned to love writing and books and theatre, pursuits that were admittedly rooted in elementary school plays and trips to the Pennsauken Library with my dad, but that were honed and cherished during my time at HMHS.


www.lewisburgpa.com
 
I left Haddonfield for Lewisburg when I was 17, leaving my parents and sister behind as I morphed from Jersey girl to Pennsylvania college student. Little did I know that I would adopt Pennsylvania as a permanent home, and that not just the Bucknell campus, but Lewisburg itself would become one of those places to which I love to return. I grew from a teenager to a young adult during my years there, continuing to pursue music and studying first psychology, then education -- subjects that continue to influence my life three decades later.

And though I grew up less than two hours from the shore (and we made a trip "down the shore" nearly every summer), I didn't grow to love the beach until I was a mother. Initially we took trips there because my husband liked the beach, but over time, I came to appreciate that peace and relaxation we enjoyed in "the quiet resort" town of Bethany Beach, Delaware. I felt a little like a traitor, growing attached to a beach town that wasn't in New Jersey, but the tranquility we discovered in our adopted beach town was enough to assuage my Jersey girl guilt.


www.townofbethanybeach.com
 I've had the opportunity to visit two of these three places this month, heading to Lewisburg the first week of this month and to the beach for the second weekend. It seems frivolous to make these trips during the school year when our schedules are already a bit crazy, but the fact is, that's when we need them the most. Trips to places we love never fail to rejuvenate -- even when it rains most of the weekend as it did for our trip to the beach. The change of pace and the change of scenery give tacit permission to simply relax and "be" instead of cramming the weekend full of "things" and accomplishments.

My parents no longer live in Haddonfield, and even when we make trips "home" to visit them, we rarely get to Haddonfield. Silly, really, since it's a short trip from my parents' condo to downtown Haddonfield, but we never seem to make the time. 

Fortunately, through the wonder of social media, I get a little taste of home whenever I talk with high school friends on Facebook, though they, too, are scattered across the country and beyond. But no matter where we live or how old we are, pieces of the places that have formed us (for better or for worse) travel with us, shaping us and influencing us beyond the boundaries of the places we call home.

www.downtownhaddonfield.com

Tuesday, March 5, 2024

A Surge of Spontaneity


 Last week, I had the pleasure of spending a day in New Jersey with my daughter. She'd been traveling in New England, and was looking for a way to break up the trip from Massachusetts to Pennsylvania, so I suggested that we meet in New Jersey. Since I teach only three days a week this semester, we could meet up on a non-teaching day, right?

"Of course we can!" the spontaneous side of me said.

The practical, routine-oriented side of me retorted almost immediately. "Are you out of your mind?" 

The practical, routine-oriented side of me is not only more assertive than the spontaneous side of me, but she's a lot louder as well. In fact, while the spontaneous side of me is fading with age, the practical, routine-oriented side of me is only getting bossier.

Which side of me wins depends a lot on who's arguing for the comfort zone. Ditch the grading and go do something fun for an hour? Point, spontaneous side.

Flip my week upside down and potentially fall behind so that I have to play catch-up later on? Two points to my practical, routine-oriented side. One for an argument I can't refute and one for dramatic effect. 

My practical, routine-oriented side is very, very good at dramatic effect.

But my daughter was excited about the plan, so I subdued my practical, routine-oriented side and got packing.

One reason my practical side wins so often is that it's very good at making me forget that the plans hatched by my spontaneous side are usually worth upending the routine. 

This trip was no exception.

My daughter and I arrived at the hotel within half an hour of each other and, from that point on, my practical side didn't stand a chance. In fact, I think she might have actually stayed in Pennsylvania, staging a (dramatic) protest, but I can't be sure. I didn't miss her, so I didn't look for her.

My daughter and I had a great dinner that evening, then spent some time with my aunt, whom we haven't seen in a couple of years. We spent the next day roaming around the town where I spent my teenage years, the place I think of as home. I showed my daughter the houses I'd lived in, the schools my sister and I had attended, and the churches where I'd gone to youth group, one of which was also where my sister and brother-in-law got married. We walked through the library where I'd worked in the children's room when I was in middle school, and wandered in and out of the downtown stores. One of our favorites was Sparrow, a gluten-free establishment where my daughter could actually eat anything on the menu, and where we struck up conversations with the very helpful folks behind the counter and in the kitchen.

My parents sold the house in Haddonfield and downsized before my daughter celebrated her first birthday so, while she spent her first Christmas there, she has no memory of it at all. Not surprising, as she was barely a month old. 

As we wandered through the town, which has a LOT more restaurants than it did when I lived there, she was patient with my stories, even asking questions. Though the tenants in the storefronts have changed, the town itself doesn't seem to have changed much at all, something I found comforting.

There were so many things about this trip that were wonderful. A mother-daughter day with my grown- up girl. Spending time with my aunt. Visiting spaces that meant so much to me, and to my family, particularly my mom, who worked in the Borough Hall once up on a time (a place which was was, of course, a stop on last week's walking tour). Simply being back in a place I still call home. 

It's a day I want to remember for many reasons, not the least of which is what can happen when I let my spontaneous side come out to play. Age makes spontaneity harder for a multitude of reasons, but I'm lucky to have a daughter whose love of travel nudges me out of my comfort zone and into adventure.

I wonder where we'll go next. 

Friday, March 1, 2024

Friday Feature: Origin Story -- Keesha



 Keesha started out as the star of her own story -- a story I was writing for Diverse Divorce. Her voice was so clear to me -- perhaps the clearest of any character before or since. 

Unfortunately, her voice was deemed a poor fit for the book, and no amount of defense or explanation could convince my editor otherwise, so we mutually agreed to withdraw the story from the collection.

But, as so often happens with characters, I'd become attached to Keesha. Closing the door on her story in one book meant that, together, we could create more chapters for her in another. Keesha's story became my first novel, and the only book -- two books, actually -- I've written for kids. 

Finding a home for Keesha proved a bit challenging. In the process, her voice was almost lost in a jumble of editorial and revision suggestions. Eventually, I tucked the book away, disillusioned over the way that the edited versions had muted the voice I'd heard so clearly. 

Years later, when I read about Kindle Vella, I decided to pull the manuscript out of the drawer and try a new platform. It was a lot of fun re-reading her story, and even more fun finally giving it a home.  

Sometimes, a story finds a home quickly and sometimes, an author needs to compromise to make that happen.

And sometimes, the story needs to wait for the right home to be built.


Read Jersey Girls Don't Rule here


Wednesday, February 28, 2024

A Few of My Favorite Splurges

Reaxion Lab via Pixabay


 Yesterday, I wrote a post about brand loyalty that actually started out as a short list of some of my favorite splurges. Today, I thought I'd share the list. 

I just finished savoring It's So You: The Joy of Personal Style: A Kate Spade New York book. It's a beautiful book with a black fabric cover, its title splashed across the black with bright pink and red lettering. Toward the end of the book, there's a page to spritz with your favorite perfume. No need. No perfume smells better than the pages of that book.

I've written often about my Kate Spade polka dotted planner and matching work tote, both of which keep me organized. Recently, when I tried to order a new planner, I found that the polka dot cover was unavailable and I had to choose a different pattern. The interior is the same, which is what's important in a planner. Still, I was disappointed. Maybe it's out of stock? Next time?

Michael Storrings jigsaw puzzles (Galison). I bought the first one of these from the New York Public Library Shop and was immediately a fan. No more wondering if the pieces actually go together (like a puzzle from another manufacturer -- one I recently tried to complete twice before just giving up). They either do or they don't and the end version is always pretty.

No shoes are more comfortable than my Rothy's flats. A colleague convinced me to try these washable shoes made from recycled plastic bottles. She was not wrong. I'd have them in every color if they were less expensive.

My new MacBook Air. As I've previously shared, I tend to use my big-ticket items for as long as possible. Unfortunately, as long as possible on this particular item was cut short last week by my clumsiness, but I'd had my old MacBook Air for seven years. It took about ten minutes for me to fall in love with the speed and brightness of my new one. I use the other platform at work. Not a fan.

What are some of your favorite splurges? Why are you a fan?