How do you feel after cleaning out a closet?

Ahh, January. A time for rest and reflection. The promise of a new year, complete with resolutions. A move back to routine, following major family festivities in November and December.

I realize, for many, January is often a time of taking stock and planning, but I tend to harken back to my school days to plan my months and year ahead.

For whatever reason, I set aside time in September, as though the start of a new school year, and again in May or June (coinciding with former summer vacations) to look at the bigger picture of my life, and hone in on specific steps and goals associated with the bigger overview.

 

Planning is important to me, as is summarizing accomplishments and feelings from the previous summer or school-year time frames. One of my biggest boosts comes from looking back over a summer or over a fall-to-spring period and listing all I have faced, accomplished, and/or not done. I am amazed to see on paper that even as I have often felt overwhelmed and perhaps not as productive as I would like to have been, that I have, in fact, made good use of my time, have accomplished much (even if it is simply setting aside time to relax for a change) and I have taken care of business, myself, and others. I have lived. Purposefully.

 

With semi-annual attention to both reflection and planning, I give myself a gift of a roadmap – some sense of being able to control my own destiny and prioritize my life in the midst of all that is thrust at us second upon second upon second.

I thrive on this reflection and planning process, even though I know plans are often broken and unexpected issues arise. Even if for only a day, I feel in control! I feel I am on a known course, even as I expect to veer on and off of it. I love this journey. I hope each of you, dear Readers, in your own ways, makes time to rest, reflect, set goals (even if it is the goal of following no particular goal, and letting the wind take you where it may) and steer your own course through this fabulous opportunity of life.

 

Clean out that closet within, and feel the liberation of organization, and freedom from life’s junk.

One Season at a Time! Beautiful Journals Coming Soon!

As I wrote in my last post, I love beauty. Flowers, animals, architecture, quaint walkways… are some of the things I find beautiful in life. I also love the beauty of happiness in people. It is heartwarming and infectious! I want it to continue forever.

Recently, I embarked on a project I have long wished to tackle: creating a journal of self discovery, which includes space for personal entries as well as calming and beautiful floral watercolor renderings. In fact, I am creating a series of journals, with each edition having the same journal entry format but different floral displays.

I am excited to announce the first of these journals will be available within the week!

One Season at a Time is about to launch. Well, I should say the first edition - the Blue hyacinth edition - is about to launch. The next journal - the Mauve roses edition - will be out in early winter 2022.

Why did I feel so strongly about creating this?

As an author, I know the power of writing. As a former flower farmer, I appreciate the power of flowers to reach into our lives.

In the One Season at a Time series, each journal includes weekly watercolor renderings of flowers or botanical settings intended to inspire, calm, and add beauty to your life as you fill the pages.

In a 90-day undated journal (roughly one season) a full page is devoted to each day with space provided for reflections, affirmations, goals, gratitude, planning, and other daily wishes.

It is my hope that One Season at a Time will

  • Help you find beauty and gratitude;

  • Help you pause

  • Help you see the world with different eyes

  • Help you organize and grow

I have kept a journal on and off over many years. The benefits have been enormous. With a brief pause in my day and mindful reflection, I have made myself a better person, and have organized thoughts and feelings many times over.

So, stay tuned. The Blue hyacinth edition of One Season at a Time will be available for purchase online in a matter of days! I hope you’ll consider giving it a try. It would make for a nice gift, as well.

Beauty

I love beauty and beautiful things. As the saying goes, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but for me flowers definitely fall into this category. So do so many different animals.- zebras with their stripes, giraffes with their own striking patterns and uniquely-shaped bodies, and curious young foxes with brilliant white and black markings contrasting with magnificently colored red fur. Of course, color and color combinations always touch me. The options are nearly endless! Architectural details and buildings, gardens, outdoor spaces, china patterns, tea cups, and so many other life offerings jump to mind as well when I consider things I find beautiful.

One of my photographs transformed into a watercolor representation: Dahlias and Ageratum - a bouquet I made from homegrown flowers when I was a flower farmer.

With phone cameras making it so easy to capture everything, including beauty, we can hold this all in the palm of a hand, and access it at any moment. This is a gift of sorts, but I have taken to moving a number of my photographs beyond direct representation to softer, gentler forms - watercolor forms. I have long wanted to create with watercolors. By long, I mean I took a class nearly fifty years ago. Nothing came of it. I never put in the time needed to learn, experiment, or create.

I believe, with no specific scientific information to back up my belief, that a person looking at a watercolor representation and a photographic representation might, perhaps, use different parts of their brain to see, filter, and experience what is being seen. I bet the scientific backup exists. A watercolor makes me pause. It pulls me out of myself and into the painting and makes me look more deeply. It seems to require a bit of input of imagination to fill in gaps. It is often not as clear a representation. It simultaneously filters back into me and touches my heart and emotions. Photographs can certainly be impactful, either due to subject matter, techniques used, or both, but they seem to make this impact differently.

Enter the digital age. It seems ironic that technology is what allows me to transform photographs to watercolor representations. I am playing with several programs. I will share more about this in the next few months. Stay tuned. In the meantime, enjoy the beauty around you, as well as the beauty within.

My Dog is my Co-worker

I came by dogs, or more appropriately, DOG, late in life. Surrounded by felines as a child and young adult, it wasn’t until I received the hand-me-down dog from my own young-adult daughter that I had a real dog in my life. I freely admit it changed a few things in my daily routine. I also admit to most changes being very positive, as though I was waiting for this opportunity my entire life.

Yes, I am sitting on the floor, typing on my laptop, while my ever-present dog sleeps on the chair “beside” me, true testament to the fact that I can write just about anywhere and in any way!

Quite a few readers and friends ask about my daily writing routine. I would like to say I stick to a very strict schedule, which changes little from day to day. In reality, I follow a more loosey goosey routine, but it works. In general, it includes a relaxed approach to my first waking hour, including or followed by some paperwork, which is usually related to bills, not writing. Then, my dog and I set out upon a walk - very exciting. She loves it. I love it. I love watching her lead the way, with stops and starts prompted by everything magical her nose picks up.

During walks, I leave my mind completely open to thoughts writing-related and otherwise. I often pounce upon a random thought, or a part of a novel I am writing, and I mentally create a scene or dialogue with every step. I guess you could say I am mulling over story, character and dialogue possibilities or I am letting ideas percolate. Either way, upon returning home, it is time for little doggy body to settle for a bit while I set fingers to keypad. The fun continues! If I did not have a dog, I might spend more concentrated time in front of my lap top. Would this really be better than dreaming up stories as I walk? Of filling my heart with love and gratitude as I enjoy the outside world and heartwarming antics of another, albeit a four-legged one? Besides, screen glare is real!

After a few hours, dog and I consider lunch and a break from work. We fill time in a number of ways. Every day is a bit different. Personal time pops in, but I usually keep my laptop handy, even if dog and I are simply sitting outside, watching people passing by. Being an indie author means I wear more than one hat. Writing is only one of my daily work tasks. I fit some of them in during this time.

A second dog walk and dedicated time for play is an enjoyable part of our late afternoons or early evenings. Then, at some point after dinner, dog settles down, content to spend her next hours sleeping, moving to another sleeping location and resettling, and maybe moving again to resettle . I pull out my laptop in earnest for a good stretch of quiet time, writing, and expansion of thoughts. Some nights, we call it a day early. Other nights, we go into the early morning hours. I never know which it will be until I finally turn off the light. And, like so many other writers, I often find more thoughts winding through my mind just as I set head to pillow. Some nights, I let them go as they wish. Other nights, I reach, again, for my laptop. Dog, in the meantime, sleeps on, but occasionally, lifts her head, and opens weary eyes to check on the wellbeing of her coworker. No, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I have always said, "Aging out of Kindergarten is good."

We all have fears. We all hesitate to try things that are presented to us in life. Carli in Clean Sweep is reluctant to join a team helping several women who are homeless on the streets of Manhattan. Only after she becomes so angry with the situation she sees does she develop the resolve to give it a try. Then, unsurprisingly, she gains confidence that jumping in with two feet is the right thing to do.

If you are ever on the fence about trying something new, what holds you back? At times, it is likely fear. Fear of failure. Fear of the unknown. Fear of how worthwhile or fulfilling the new something might be. At other times, it might be being stretched so thin by other commitments that taking on something new seems impossible. Usually, once you jump in, you find a wonderful life-enriching experience is waiting for you. Other times, a strategic “no thank you” is a healthy alternative for the sake of time management.

I have let fear hold me back many times in life. I have also abandoned fear and found great rewards for having tried something new, or something that, at first, felt overwhelming or beyond my capacity. Usually, stepping right in, seeing what comes my way, and plowing through my natural hesitation proves enriching. Because I was willing to take the leap, I can proudly say I have been, among other things, a flower farmer, small business owner, and now an indie author. All have enriched my life beyond any possible expectation and have allowed me the gift of self growth. This is key.

We are meant to grow. We age out of Kindergarten. I told my children many times, if you remained in the safety of Kindergarten, think of everything you would have missed as you aged. I keep this thought in the back of my mind most every day something even slightly challenging or frightening comes my way! Yes, let’s all keep growing. I believe it is what we are meant to do. Enjoy your new experiences!

Music to My Ears

Are you a music fan?

Do you listen when you drive?

How about if you are working out?

What gets you moving?

I do some of my writing to music, but I turn the volume down low, low, low. What’s my music of choice? For writing, it is classical. And there is definitely a story behind this.

Percussion!

I am hardly an orchestral connoisseur. In fact, I couldn’t tell you much of anything about it, but I turn on this type of music during writing time as a background sound to push out other thoughts. Here’s the thing. As a child, I often went to sleep hearing classical music coming from downstairs as my parents listened to the WQXR offerings on the radio coming out of New York City. In addition, during the day, my mother often played classical works on a baby grand, so I was listening to Bach, Mozart, Brahms, Chopin and many more from well before I was born and throughout childhood.

Playing simultaneously with the nightly WQXR selections was another percussion “instrument” -  a typewriter... or two.... Tap. Tap. Tap. Ringggg (as the carriage was manually moved from one side to another). Tap... tap... tap... Both of my parents wrote ...  on typewriters. It was marvelous.

I consider myself lucky to have had this surround me as a child, and I find it fascinating that even today the soft background music is an effective way to put my mind in “writing mode” as I take to my laptop and begin to tap tap tap my more modern percussion instrument.

Do you use music to help you through certain parts of your day? I’d love to hear about it. Please share a comment!

Surrounded by books - a magical childhood

Books surrounded me as a child. In my bedroom, they rested in several wooden bookshelves, with one nearly 6 feet tall and 4 feet wide, and a second half as tall. My mother had painted them lavender! I loved them!

As a child, I was surrounded by books. And they rested upon glorious lavender bookshelves! It was a magical place to read my way into other worlds and lives.

Most furniture in our home was maple, mahogany, or oak. Stained. Solid or intricately inlaid. Several cute little corner bookcases brought additional magic touches of lavender to my room. Perhaps, periwinkle is a better description, but no matter, the color was perfect!

Many of my first books were hand-me-downs from my older brother. One series in particular absolutely opened my eyes to the world. It was written and illustrated by Czech writer and artist, Miroslav Sasek, and the early ones included This is Paris, This is London, This is Rome, and This is New York. The first of the series was published in 1959, and the planned series of three books grew to include a total of 18, with the final one published in 1974. Beginning in 2003, several were revised, facts were updated, and the books were brought back into print, a testament to their classic presentations of many cities around the world.

Even before I could read the words on the pages, the wonderful illustrations of this series opened my eyes to lands and people I never dreamed existed. I saw what it was to imagine, and what books could share with me. This was a gift! Lavender or periwinkle bookshelves only made my reading corner that much more cozy. As a wonderful sequel to this story, I share with you something else: these very bookcases became part of my children’s childhood rooms, and led the way to magical worlds.

The Truth About Writing

Writing outside on the lounger with my dear little companion is the best of the best! Laptops rock!

Writing is work. I know it sounds like fun; people tell me this all the time. Here’s the full disclosure: like any job, it has its exhilarating moments, creative aspects, very difficult mental challenges, and drudgery.

At this point in my life, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Golf? Forget it. Fun but self-torture. Travel? Sure, but it is nice to do laundry at home, eat in, and relax at home, too. Tennis? Too vigorous. Reading? Yes, but I have my limits. Alas, this leaves me stuck with my ideas and my laptop, pounding out stories. Hooray!

Let me tell you a bit about the writing life.

Words lead to sentences lead to paragraphs lead to page after page of ... garbage! Sometimes, a lot dances onto a page, but it turns out to be less than perfect. In fact, some of what comes out must be rejected. Other material is perfect. What is important is knowing writing, and the creative part of writing, is, as many say time and time again, a process. Sometimes, the only way to think through the bones and details of a story, is to spew out all the garbage and then get to the good stuff. Sometimes, I face the opposite: words or ideas ... do ... not... appear ... at ... all... Think either toothpaste tube with words squeegeeing out or a once-used epoxy tube, which holds back every word or thought possible. So, there I sit, wondering why I call myself a writer.

The creative process is absolutely a process, which means successful creativity can sneak up on you in a flurry, you can be forced to wait on it, and/or you can painstakingly tease it out.

The creative process starts the story. It also runs through various edits. Always, I am layering thoughts and new creations into a story, even as I move through rewrite after rewrite. In general, this is a rather exhilarating aspect of writing for me. I am shaping the story, taking greater control of the words and paragraphs while also embellishing, inserting additional creative touches, and overall improving the written content.

I am also being introduced to new ideas, to the story itself, as it stealthily unfolds for the first time. It is as though I am reading someone else’s new story.

Another exhilarating aspect of editing is gaining input from editors.

These are the professionals who prod me to consider opportunities, possible flaws, and alternatives I might not think of in a million years. They are the outside eyes and internal voices challenging my thought processes, various premises of my story, the purpose of a passage, the congruity or incongruity of a character, etc. Editorial input provides a creative boost that demands I do better or more, and forces me to grow, become a better writer, and deliver a better story.

At this stage, I love my job!

As noted earlier, the creative input can continue to the bitter end, but, at some point, the bulk of my attention turns to details of grammar, proofreading, consistency of style, and fact checks. Have I slipped up and mentioned a detail, which contradicts a revelation from a different point in the story, meaning timing if off? Have I created a scene which is inconsistent with the setting? What about grammar? This is when I turn to professional proofreader(s) and I drive myself nuts.

Truly, after reading with as fine-tooth comb as possible, answering proofreader questions, and rereading time and time again, I find myself questioning even the most basic comma placement. I find myself distrusting my knowledge and ability. Think SELF DOUBT!

This part of writing is torture!

It is mentally draining. I want nothing to do with my manuscript at this point of the writing process. So, for all of you who think writing sounds fun, consider there is also certain drudgery in polishing a story. Do you recall times when you were finishing a term paper? This is the time I must push myself to bring the story over the finish line. This is when I never wish to read the story again. This is when it all seems like a blur and the story is now absolutely boring to me. Then, time comes when I must confirm the story is finished. Until I find typographical errors in printed copies, I can set the manuscript into the “done” pile.

The funny thing is, it takes several months for me to feel I am actually done writing a story. I do not feel immediately free, even though my mind is already churning through ideas for my next novel. I am considering taking a vacation every time I finish a novel. I believe this will cue my brain to the reality of its being time to move on.

It's another mini...van...

 

I haven’t put my foot to the pedal in anything other than a minivan since 1999.

Before that, it was station wagons – first a Chevy and then a Buick. Kids. Dog. Flowers. Dog. That has pretty much been my life.

As much as I needed these large vehicles, it totally bugs me to drive a large car. I rode my bicycle eight miles to school on Earth Day #1! After school, I rode home. Mostly uphill. Eight miles. I am a conservationist at heart.

Anyway, my minivans have been total champs for my lifestyle, work, and budget until they reach a certain age and mileage. Recently, major repairs looked imminent on my high-mileage vehicle. I have been down this road before. I know the signs. So, I took the plunge.

Please, help me welcome my latest minivan. Her name is Magnolia. (She’s from the South, although technically, she was put together in Ontario, Canada.)

Ah, Sweet Magnolia.

She’s gorgeous!

Spacious.

Comfortable.

And she is a soft, silky gray color that reminds me of the beautiful, fuzzy, winter overcoats that keep a magnolia’s buds safe from harm until it is time for them to open in spring. Magically, the paint on the sideview mirrors appears to take on a mint-green color through the driver’s side window as a result of light reflecting in some awesome manner. Of course, green is my favorite color. Magnolia looks like a million bucks, as they say!

Contrasting with this serene exterior image is an ELECTRONIC BEAST OF A MACHINE.

She’s more electronically-loaded than I have a clue what to do with. Give me a couple of tires and a steering wheel, and I am happy. The beeps, lights, music options, self-this- and self-that-options on my new baby were definitely developed for some other driver.

I mean, I’ve been doing this driving thing for fifty years. That’s a Big 5-0. I know how to park! (I might even take pride in this fact, were it not that difficult once you learn to do it.) I don’t want to trust Magnolia to get us in a parking space. I see this self-driving stuff as a road down the wrong path. Sure, it’s easy, but shouldn’t we learn to do a few things for ourselves? Isn’t there a reason to try and try again? Hmm...

 Well, in any event, no matter who’s parking us, here’s to Magnolia! May she live forever, as the others nearly did... until I had to put a ton of money into them.

 Question: Have you ever donated a used vehicle to an organization or person who desperately needed it for transportation?

My last vehicle I traded in to the dealer, and did not donate. I always question whether a high-mileage, or a high- high- high-mileage vehicle is much of a gift, or if it is simply a risky, expensive, potentially dangerous accident waiting to happen. Have you ever donated a used car? Email me your thoughts at eblee.author@gmail.com .

 In Clean Sweep, I introduce two vans in Chapter 1. They are late-model, high-mileage loaners that run by the grace of God. It is an icy night in November when the vans first appear. A vicious wind whips through the streets. Within these vans are life-saving food and clothing to be given to homeless men and women sleeping on the sidewalks of Manhattan. Can you imagine how critical these vans and the volunteers handing out supplies from the vans must be to the characters in the novel?

 Now, imagine how vital real vans like these are to real people living on our streets. Have you read Clean Sweep? Once you do, vans will never look the same.

Here’s to happy driving, no matter what your vehicle! Oh, and while I’m thinking of it, Clean Sweep is available in audiobook format to keep you company, and your mind engaged, on your commute or longer trips.