Yes

I just finished the first draft of a novel.

This is big for me - a major celebration, really - because I have about eleven false starts scattered over fifteen years.

I’m just going to sit with that for a minute. I’ve been trying to do this for fifteen years. I have a 70-page attempt circa 2006. Do you know how many things have happened to me and to the world since 2006? A LOT OF THINGS.

Turns out, all you need to do to finish is...keep going. Show up every(ish) day to have fun with the words and let the book show you what it wants to be. All while refusing to judge yourself or what lands on the page.

(Even if you have seven new and what-your-anxiety-brain-declares-to-be-better novel ideas along the way.)

I got off social media a few months ago, not totally sure why, but sure it needed to happen. I’m not a cyborg, so I peeked. But I did my best not to post and to give myself a break - at least until the first draft was finished.

Yesterday I wrote the last paragraph. Last night, we popped champagne and ate cheesy pasta.

(Turns out, all you need to do to make amazing pasta is drown the other ingredients in a sea of butter. To finish a novel, just refuse to quit. To make delicious pasta, just add a stick of butter. I’m learning all sorts of life lessons over here.)

It was really tempting to push past this milestone without recognizing it - a first draft isn’t a finished novel, after all. A finished novel isn’t an agent. An agent isn’t a publishing deal. A publishing deal isn’t a bestseller.

What? Settle down, brain.

Success is not the point. It would be a very welcome side effect, but the point is to write books. And when this one is done - really done, ready to be read by other humans done - there are seven more ideas waiting in the wings.

The process never ends. Which means we can’t ever fail - because we’re never done. There’s something extraordinary in that.

So here’s to stubbornly refusing to give up, long-awaited accomplishment, the utter impossibility of failure, and having fun every single day.

The Many and Varied Uses of Imaginary Jellybeans

I’m not sure how to tell this story without sounding crazy, but if I worried about sounding crazy I'd never open my mouth. So here we go.

On Sunday, I was hiking. It was a beautiful day, with a view of the ocean, verdant valleys, and happy cows (also peeing cows) dotting the hills beside the trail. I wasn’t having any of it. I was tired, I was cranky, and I wasn’t interested in anything related to living life at that time.

As I trudged up and down hike-related peaks and valleys, I finally got over myself enough to ask “How can I have a better time than I’m currently having?” Because I finally remembered that I do have some element of control over how I live my life. Maybe I can’t control the peeing cow, but I can certainly control how much I enjoy this actually very nice Sunday situation in which I find myself.

(Very nice Sunday situation.)

So I asked “How can this [general hand wave in the direction of life] feel better?”

Nothing happened. Because I was cranky, I didn’t really expect it to.

But as I focused on not thinking thoughts and instead on enjoying the view and the way the air felt on my skin, I started to shift out of crankiness and into neutrality and then some semblance of pleasure.

After a bit more plodding through the landscape, something opened up. Maybe I stumbled through a fairy glen or my whimsical brand of imagination fired up or guidance stepped in, I can’t say. And it doesn’t really matter. As I was walking, I got handed a silver basket full of jellybeans. Not the grocery store-corn syrup-red dye number death brand of jellybeans. These were fairy jellybeans. Some were midnight blue speckled with silver stars. Some were that particular turquoise of tropical island ocean. Some were peony pink. And I heard, “You can eat this one for calmness, this one for joy, this one to fall asleep, this one for more money, this one for creative inspiration, this one for delight,” and so on.

So I chose the imaginary jellybean that would help me get over myself and start enjoying my Sunday afternoon hike. I imagined eating it, and the fairy jellybean energy filling me up. It wasn’t like a miracle bean, where suddenly I was skipping through the hills and thrilled with life. But by the end of the hike, I was feeling much better. The day shifted into something absolutely lovely, including my favorite pizza and a really nice glass of wine that I got to drink in the sun. My week since has been significantly better than the week previous.

My point is, whether you believe in angelic support or guidance or your inner wisdom or the support of the universe or the power of your imagination, you always have access to a shift in perspective. You can always adjust how you view and experience things - all you have to do is ask, and trust that the answer will come. Whether that answer comes in the form of a silver basket filled with magic fairy jellybeans or something more prosaic doesn’t matter.

Your imagination is the portal to a better experience. So this is me reminding myself - and you, if that’s helpful - to use it wisely.

Nooses Beat Masks in Old Hang Town

If you’ve ever been to Gold Rush Country, you may have wandered through Placerville, a relic of the Wild West. If you’ve ever been to Placerville, you may have noticed the town seal as you drove in. On this town seal is a man mining for gold in front of a tree. Dangling from the tree is a noose. 

“Maybe it’s just a really short tire swing,” I said, ever full of optimism. 

“Nope. Look, the town’s nickname is Old Hang Town.” 

“So it’s definitely a noose?” 

“It’s definitely a noose.” 

People in Placerville are apparently super proud of the Old West justice they used to mete out from their historic hanging tree. At least according to the flier I saw hanging on the door of Bones Roadhouse when we stopped for lunch, declaring “It’s not racist, it’s historic.”

(Just as a general note, any time “it’s not racist” appears in a sentence and that sentence keeps going, whatever follows is definitely going to be racist.)

We happened to be in Placerville the day after the town council (or whoever is in charge of such things) voted to take the noose off the seal because it’s a little too reminiscent of lynchings, something I think we can all agree were never good. 

According to a cursory google search, the only people hanged in Placerville were two Frenchmen and one Chilean, so the townspeople up in arms over getting their seal changed might be technically correct in that the seal is less Strange Fruit and more We Don’t Have a Sheriff’s Department Yet. But why you’d want to fight for a noose is beyond me. Especially when you could be We’re An Adorable Relic of the Wild West and You Should Definitely Spend Money Here instead.

The other intriguing thing about Placerville - aside from the old west main street (I do love me a good old west main street) and the abundance of witch-y shopping options - was the attitude towards masks. 

The second thing I noticed about Bones Roadhouse, after my eyes adjusted to the dim light after being in the bright sun and my brain stopped processing the “it’s not racist” flier,  was that no one was wearing a mask. No one. People were just hanging out squashed together at the circular bar like it was 2019 and pandemics were as historic as the town.

After lunch, we went shopping, because that’s what you do in an adorable town. We went to the oldest hardware store west of the Mississippi and bought chocolate in the Toy and Candy store because I insisted. When we got a little further down the street, we were told in one of the stores that they actually prefer it if you don’t wear masks inside. 

Oldest hardware store west of the Mississippi.

Coming from the Bay Area, where people are meticulous about mask wearing, this was very strange - though maybe not as strange as the effigy hanging from the second story of one of the buildings on main street, neck encircled by - you guessed it - a noose.

If we’re speaking historically here, I would have expected masks to be more popular. Presumably bank robbers of the Wild West would have loved the current world-wide mask credo, as wearing a mask would no longer be a dead give away of your intent to rob an establishment. 

And let me tell you, there were some places worth robbing. 

These Are a Few of My Favorite Things

One of the best things about the internet is learning about what people love. What small thing they bought or found for free that has a big impact on their daily life. So here are some things that have improved my life enough that I want to tell you about them, yell them into the ether, just in case this is exactly what you’ve been looking for or didn’t know you needed.

(I’m getting paid to talk about none of these things. I just love them and use them daily - with the exception of the novels, all of which I have read a few times but not, you know, constantly. Everything is free or under $40.)

Work

I’ve been working for myself and from home for over a decade now, but it wasn’t until my friend, client, and baller writer Simone Paget told me about these two things that my routine really clicked in and my big dreams started moving forward.

Cave Day

Zoom co-working at its finest, showing up regularly for three hour work sessions gives form and a solid container to my work goals. Every day, I show up to my writing - random writing in the morning and novel in the afternoon - and this is how I get drafts done in mere months and also soothe the “OH MY GOD HAVE I DONE ENOUGH” fears that are prone to creeping in when you’re your own boss. (Yes, you have done enough. Even if all you did is lie on the couch, you have done enough.) If I show up for one Cave session a day, I’m a badass. If I show up for two Cave sessions in a day, I’m ready to declare myself queen of the world.

(If you sign up for their newsletter, you can get a free week of membership to try it out.)

Brain FM

While this harnesses brain science (or something), I mostly just tried it because Simone recommended it - and then I noticed how much I was getting done when I used it, and how effortlessly I dropped into a flow state, something that had been eluding me for [muffled mumble] months.

In the morning, I use it for a fifteen minute meditation session and then any time I’m working, I click over to focused work or light work or whatever I need and let it harness my brain waves to getting shit done.

(You can try it out for free for a few days to see if it works for you.)

Health

Abraham Hicks

Ever since I got slammed by some serious limiting beliefs plus anxiety plus insomnia plus pandemic, I’ve been working to re-wire my brain and tighten up my thought patterns, so I can use my brain for good instead of awful. Listening to Abraham Hicks has been one of the primary ways I’ve been able to shift things and get my energy flowing again. Youtube is stuffed with fifteen-minute segments of Esther Hicks channeling Abraham and it’s the best no-nonsense and often hilarious manifestation and life guidance I’ve ever heard.

(If you want to ask your own question, Esther is doing weekly livestreams here.)

Bluetooth headband

Because I have turned into my mother and only recognize and adopt technology ten years after everyone else (ask my mom about using an ATM in the ‘80s), I didn’t even know this was a thing until my boyfriend sent me a link. When I lived alone and woke up at 3 in the morning fueled by anxiety and insomnia, I could just turn on whatever I wanted and fall back asleep with Trevor Noah echoing through the room. But when there’s someone next to you, turning on Netflix in bed at 3:30 in the morning is considered rude. Listening with my ear buds was not ideal - the cord was obnoxious and the hard plastic of the ear buds was uncomfortable if I wanted to turn over. So finding a soft headband with bluetooth speakers - no cords! comfy on my side! can pull the headband over my eyes like a sleep mask! - was a legit WHERE HAS THIS BEEN MY WHOLE LIFE moment. And it was only twenty bucks, which is a life-changing investment I can fully get behind.

Using this headband is how I listen to the Brain FM meditations and Abraham Hicks and all the stand-up comedians that soothe my soul when I wake up at 4 in the morning and need to escape the workings of my own brain.

Elation tincture

Back before contagion was running rampant and we were all just hanging out together indoors willy-nilly, I would drive to San Francisco to visit my favorite healer who was studying acupuncture and Chinese medicine. She would stick me with needles and figure out the weird health issues that stump Kaiser and send me on my way with a paper bag full of Chinese herbs. She made me a blend for anxiety that I called my Chill Out tea. When we went into lockdown, I sent her a flustered email because I was due for more Chill Out herbs and everything was all STAY HOME AND STAY ALIVE. I wanted to stay alive but chilling out was also essential at that time. She sent me the link to this tincture, made from the same formula. Used daily, it has the same chill out effects, and I love it.

Fit On

I haven’t been to a gym in a really long time. I also can’t fit into half of my clothes right now, which is not my favorite thing because oh my god the laundry. This is the best free workout app I’ve found, and the days I use it are always better days than the ones where I consider walking to the kitchen for kettle chips or chasing the cats away from the lizards my exercise. (Both do count as exercise, but you don’t get to be quite as smug about it.)

Yoga with Adriene

Who doesn’t love Yoga with Adriene? She has the kind of energy you just want to roll around in and she’s a fantastic yoga teacher. She’s my youtube go-to any time I need some yoga.

Fun Things To Read

I just want to spend my life reading and writing novels. Novels that make me happy to be alive, that make me believe in love in a new way, novels that help the world feel delightful again. Here are a few that fit that bill for me:

Anything by Sarah Addison Allen. I read The Sugar Queen first and got hooked. Reading all her novels became my mission, one I’m proud to say that - with some help from Christmas gifts - I have accomplished.

The Bookish Life of Nina Hill by Abbi Waxman. Like Harry Potter, this book is mashed potatoes for my soul.

The All Souls trilogy by Deborah Harkness. If witches and vampires aren’t your thing this may not be for you, but there’s also history and magic and time travel and wine and libraries and many other wonderful things.

The Friend Zone series by Abby Jimenez. The third one comes out next week and I like these books so much that I’m calling Copperfield’s to ask them to set one aside for me, so I don’t make the trip and then have to cry in the romance aisle because all the copies are gone.

The Staggering and Long-Winded Mental Aftermath of Unfollowing Friends on Social Media

At the height of my “I desperately want a baby but don’t see how that can happen” panic a few years back, I unfollowed all my friends with children on instagram. 

Announce your pregnancy? Immediate triggered unfollow! 

Show your adorable children doing adorable things? Immediate triggered unfollow! 

It was the social media equivalent of a tantrum in the grocery store and NOW I’M TOO EMBARRASSED TO RE-FOLLOW MY FRIENDS.

There’s a lot to unpack here, my doves.

My first thought as I started thinking about this, rather than letting my brain skitter away like usual, was “These are not the actions of a mature adult.” 

It’s been years since this happened, these are actual real-life friends, and I’ve just been letting it ride. Letting my mind jump merrily away to something else rather than confront it.

Honestly, I hoped to just have kids and then accidentally delete my account and start over. Yes, that was a real plan.

My second thought: “Be kinder to yourself.” 

It was the right thing for me to do at the time. I would get on Instagram and start sobbing big ugly cry tears. Removing the triggers felt like the only real option in that moment. (I guess the mute button wasn’t around yet? Or I just didn’t know it existed?) (I’ve officially hit Grandma Wants Her Typewriter Back levels of technical savvy over here.) 

My third thought: “Why is this still a thing?”

It became a splinter that moved in and set up house. It didn’t hurt much, but it would jab me every so often. 

It’s probably because this whole issue is a splinter in my soul and I genuinely don’t know what to do about it. 42 isn’t too late for kids, but it’s too late to not be chasing it down with every fiber of my being, a being that’s still concerned about things like paying bills and social media and committed relationships, things I genuinely did not expect to still be an issue into my forties. Hitting your midlife crisis at the same time as (the ninth iteration of ) your I Really Want To Have Kids crisis is inconvenient.

Since I don’t know what to do about the bigger issue (kids), but I do know what to do about the smaller issue (social media), here’s my plan:

Talk about it (hi!), because expressing things is how I move through them, and I haven’t done nearly enough of that in the past few years and it’s definitely affected my general wellbeing and mental health. 

Re-follow my friends. Sure, I may trigger again when confronted with evidence of Family Life, but I am so much better at handling triggers than I was a few years ago. (Not, like, great. But better. Definitely better!) 

The small child in me worries that they’ll be hurt or mad. The grownup in me recognizes that this is not an issue in anyone’s life but mine.  My friends are kind and well-adjusted people who, if they give it any thought at all, will think something along the lines of “I totally get it. You do what you need to do. My loud children will be here whenever you’re ready.” 

I am proud to announce that my reaction to the most recent round of Beautiful New Facebook Babies has triggered more “I can share your obvious joy” than “My fingers are now big and green because I am the Unfollow Hulk.”

Which feels like progress. Good progress, because there’s also a lot to unpack here energetically.

When we react negatively to someone else having what we want, we hold that very thing away from ourselves. When we’re in the sheer cyclone of joy that “this thing that I want exists in the world and someone I love has it”, we’re summoning that thing like we have a wand from Ollivander’s and a solid understanding of the Accio charm. I’m not saying I don’t have kids because I unfollowed some of my favorite humans on social media once and then didn’t know what to do about it after, but it probably didn’t help. 

And that’s okay. We can always clean up our energy and our actions and re-follow and express and be embarrassed and then stop. We can always step back into expecting our desires to show up like we graduated from Hogwarts with honors.