This very festive recipe is adapted from Jeanne Lemlin’s Vegetarian Classics (which I’m pretty sure I scored off the free book shelf when I worked at HarperCollins circa 2002). The pear/caramel topping is a wonderful and (relatively) unexpected way to serve gingerbread. I’m posting it now to go with my Vegan Thanksgiving 2022 video on the No Bones at All playlist!

The topping:
4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted vegan butter
1/2 cup firmly packed light or dark brown sugar
2 ripe but firm pears (Lemlin prefers Bosc or Anjou but Bartlett is fine too)

The cake:
1 cup flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1 vegan egg replacer (over the years I have tried Ener-G, Vegan Egg, and Bob’s; all are fine, but in my experience Bob’s results in the fluffiest cake)
1/2 cup firmly packed light or dark brown sugar
1/3 cup unsulfured molasses
1/2 cup plant milk soured with one tablespoon vinegar or lemon juice
4 tablespoons melted vegan butter

Preheat the oven to 350º. Grease the sides of a 9-inch round cake pan. To prepare the topping, melt the butter in a small saucepan, adding the brown sugar and stirring until blended. Scrape into the cake pan and spread evenly.

Peel, core, and quarter the pears and cut each quarter into thinner slices, arranging evenly around the pan.

Combine the flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, ginger, and cloves in a large bowl. In a separate bowl mix the vegan egg replacer (prepared according to package instructions), brown sugar, molasses, soured plant milk, and melted butter. Scrape into the flour mixture and mix until well blended.

Pour the batter over the pears. Bake for 30 minutes, or until a knife inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean. Cool on a wire rack for 10 minutes, then invert onto a plate. Serve slightly warm or at room temperature. Non-dairy whipped cream optional!

Although this cake is best served the day it is made, Lemlin writes, it will still be delicious if made one day in advance, covered, and kept at room temperature. (I can vouch that it’s almost as good even a few days later!)

I’ve been writing novels for more than twenty years now—CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?—but there is always more to learn about the craft, and more to observe of one’s natural inclinations. This is how and why I do what I do. Here are some ways I might fine-tune a particular step in my process—for greater “efficiency,” yes, but also for greater enjoyment.

As I listened to the audio modules inside my dear friend Heather Demetrios’s new on-demand course, You Have a Process, it occurred to me that while I’ve spent plenty of time charting out my idea-generation process—on YouTube and inside The Bright Idea Kit—I haven’t reflected too much on the actual drafting, which is far and away the most intimidating part from most aspiring writers’ point of view. If you’d asked about my first-drafting style before going through You Have a Process, this is what I’d’ve told you:

I bring piles of handwritten notes to the Scrivener document. I don’t write in chronological order. Usually I’ll write fifty pages or so and then I’ll outline the entire book. At the end of a writing session, I try to have a kernel of a scene to start with the next day—something I’m excited to dictate into Scrivener as I’m watching it play out in my head. Maybe eighty percent of the time I slip into flow within minutes, the other 20% being tooth-pulling days, but I don’t get down on myself. Doing yoga, going for a walk, taking a shower, cooking dinner, or working on an easy knitting or sewing project helps with a mild case of creative constipation (because I don’t experience “block,” per se—not anymore). Whatever isn’t quite coming together, the solution generally slides in at an oblique angle (i.e., it has nothing to do with whatever is in front of me, but it shows up because mentally I’ve cleared the space for it.)

This is all true, but it’s not as specific (and therefore as helpful for other writers) as it could be.

From the beginning I understood that many (if not a majority of) writers draft their stories in chronological order, and it didn’t seem like a problem that I never felt inclined to write that way. In my initial drafting phase, I sit down to write whichever scenes I feel like. I’m only 30% of the way through my first draft of the time-travel novel, but I’ve already written a pivotal conversation that happens in the last chapter. At some point as I was listening to my friend’s warm and reassuring voice coming out of my bedside speaker, I had the most delicious little a-ha moment:

I draft a novel in much the same way I cut and assemble a piece of patchwork!

It’s been a long time since I’ve blogged about my crafting—I have a baby-quilt show-and-tell post from 2019 still languishing in my drafts—though I have shared more on Instagram in this video on creative cross-pollination and this one on “avocational ambition.” (Those are YouTube links, in case you don’t have an Instagram account.)

The most basic definition of patchwork is cutting large pieces of fabric (usually quilting cotton) into smaller—sometimes very small—pieces, rearranging and then stitching them into a visually pleasing design. Sometimes it’s traditional and perfectly geometric and other times (as in “crazy” or crumb quilting) you’re making it up as you go. It’s not a perfect analogy, but for me it’s an illuminating one: because in both disciplines I generate purposeful fragments—discrete moments of connection or observation or insight, without thinking too much about context or finishing—and after months of working in this fashion, I can arrange those many pieces into a sensible order and add the necessary “sashing” so that each scene continues “seamlessly” (har, har) into the next.

To mix our metaphors here, what I’m calling “sashing” is what many writing teachers would refer to as “connective tissue.” In a particular chapter, I might have 60% of scene A, only a half-finished dialogue from scene B, and a scene C that is more or less complete. Because I have my outline by this stage—my self-drafted pattern, in needlework parlance—I mostly know what more is needed in scene A, how to get the characters to the point that they are having the conversation in scene B, and how to segue into scene C. There are still question marks here and there, particularly where the science (or “science”) is concerned, or more historical research is required, but as I proceed from here I have every confidence that I will eventually gather the information I need to fill those lacunae.

In essence, I compose my first draft in two stages: there is the initial draft-whatever-I-please, cutting-up-calico-into-itty-bitty-pieces phase, and then there is the arrangement and assembly/filling-in phase. Both are enjoyable, but the second phase is more consistently so because I already have a large bank of material to work with. It’s easier to compose a line that sings—a sentence I can feel proud of—if it’s closing out a scene I half-drafted three months earlier.

Amazing, isn’t it, how long it’s taken me to notice just how process-oriented and low-pressure my natural method of drafting truly is! (And of course now I’m thinking about how I can demonstrate using actual writing samples—that’ll eventually be a video inside the Bright Idea Kit. I’ll include photos from my crumb-quilting, which is an even tidier analogy!)

My New Favorite Cookbook

Every single dish I have made out of Sweet Potato Soul by Jenné Claiborne is out-of-this-world delicious:

• Coconut collard salad (page 74)
• Quick-pickled onions (page 75)
• Tender mess o’ collards (page 103) — definitely double this
• Happy hearts “crab” cakes (page 129) — Elliot’s favorite; I whip up a dressing with vegan mayo, Dijon mustard, and fresh dill
• Pan-fried butter beans & greens (page 118)
• Lentil loaf (page 138) — I have tried so. MANY. Lentil and nut loaf recipes over the years, and this is one of the best
• Ooooh Mama mushroom gravy (page 205) — I sometimes add a small tin of tomato paste for the sake of variety

More Main Courses

French Onion Skillet Lasagna (Vegan Richa) — I “reconstructed” this lasagna by tripling the white sauce and adding layers of roasted butternut squash. Kate’s all-time favorite!

Chickpea Seitan Cutlet (Isa Chandra) — served with the mushroom gravy recipe from Sweet Potato Soul

Seitan Gyros (Lettuce Veg Out) — I used this recipe before I found Isa Chandra’s chickpea cutlets, and I prefer the latter, but this recipe is good if you prefer baking to frying. I serve it with BBQ sauce from Trader Joe’s.

Vegan Pot Pie with Herby Biscuits (Shanika Graham-White via Food52)

Lentil Shepherd’s Pie (Rainbow Plant Life)

Penne alla vodka (Miyoko Schinner, The Homemade Vegan Pantry, page 148) — uses homemade cashew cream

Mealey’s Old Reliables (ICYMI)

Tater-Tot Casserole (Vegan Stoner)

Quiche (using my vegan onion pie recipe, but mixing up the filling; Kate’s favorite combination is sundried tomato, onion, artichoke, kalamata olive, and Daiya cheddar)

Scottish-inspired handpies (sign up for the mailing list to get the recipe link in your welcome email; lately I’ve been using the quiche pastry for these handpies—two quiche crusts = enough pastry for four handpies)

Side Dishes

Best-ever roasted potatoes (Serious Eats) — quite time- and labor-intensive, and TOTALLY worth it!

Best Damn Vegan Biscuits (Minimalist Baker)

No-Fuss Vegan Cornbread (Gena Hamshaw for Food52) — I sprinkle canned or frozen corn on top of the batter

Lemon Vinaigrette (Minimalist Baker) — I always double this and use the second half in the next salad I make, often one with massaged kale.

Macaroni and cheese — I don’t use a recipe. The essential ingredients are raw cashews, broth, steamed or roasted butternut squash, lemon juice, miso, a boatload of nutritional yeast, and other seasonings to suit your preference, sauce-ified in a high-speed blender.

Air-fried French fries — highly recommend getting yourself an air fryer if you love fries and or/fried tofu enough to make them at home on a regular basis.

Desserts

Cranberry upside-down cake (so easy and absolutely scrummy)

Oatmeal raisin cookies (Colleen Patrick-Goudreau, The Joy of Vegan Baking, page 120 in the original edition)

Chocolate peanut-butter buttons (Vicki Brett-Gach, The Main Street Vegan Academy Cookbook, page 212) — best eaten straight from the oven!

No-bake cookie dough bars (Rainbow Plant Life)

DIY sorbet — frozen berries or mango with fresh mint and a bit of plant milk and maple syrup in the frozen dessert setting on the Vitamix.

I often think about how I can be a more useful member of the writing and publishing community. As in many industries, it can be very difficult to “get your foot in the door,” and back when I was an aspiring novelist, it seemed to me that established authors could help us newbies a whole lot more than they (seemingly) did. After all, they must’ve had their share of teachers, mentors, and other benefactors guiding and supporting them back in the day, right?

Well, sure. But if you ask for “a leg up” and don’t get a response, that doesn’t mean the author in question isn’t already helping a lot of other aspiring writers. It’s not a matter of gatekeeping or snubbery, but of establishing healthy boundaries. Let’s use these tweets as an example:

From my point of view, this person was being incredibly cheeky. It was obvious he hadn’t read any of my work, nor had he taken just a few seconds to find my email address on my website. He hadn’t even bothered to click the “follow” button. As I joked to my friend (and fellow author) Shveta, this dude was acting like an energetic shoplifter. Naturally, he disappeared as soon as I tweeted a link to my video on finding critique partners—diplomatically asking him to, y’know, do the work.

Many folks have contacted me over the years looking for advice, and sometimes I don’t even get a one-line thank-you for my thoughtful response to their writing and publishing questions. Lots of aspiring writers don’t read much, don’t self reflect, and don’t seem to understand the concept of reciprocity and energetic exchange. They just want easy answers. (If you have a creeping suspicion you’ve acted like one of these writers in the past, read How Do You Know You’re Not a “No-Talent Ass Clown”? It will probably make you feel better.)

On the other hand, my friend Steve asked, “Is this writing/publishing etiquette universally acknowledged? Or is it culturally specific? Maybe you should lay out some clear guidelines for anyone who wants to contact you.” So here is that post, which I will link to on my contact page. If you think you’re worthy of my time and attention, then you must read this post before contacting me (and if it’s obvious you haven’t read it, then I will not reply).

Clear guidelines for you, and healthy boundaries for me. Everybody wins!

Can I interview you?

If you’re emailing about the Bones and All film adaptation: feel free to reach out with an interview request, but please watch the book-to-film playlist first and let me know that you have taken the time to do so. This way we’ll have time to go deeper!

Otherwise, I enjoy corresponding with book bloggers and very much appreciate their enthusiasm and support…BUT you have to show me you’ve actually read the book you’re asking about and have done even a small bit of research. If you ask questions in your initial email that make it clear you have not spent even a few minutes browsing my website—for instance, “Why would a vegan write a novel about cannibals?” when I link to an explanatory blog post on the Bones & All book page—I am not going to say yes to a Q&A that requires more time and energy than you yourself have put in. It also frustrates me when bloggers ask for free books and don’t follow through with the interview questions, because that seems dishonest (alas, it has happened more than once).

Also, a quick note on social-media etiquette: please DO NOT tag authors in your posts if your review is negative (or even lukewarm). This is callous behavior and at best it comes across as attention seeking. Please treat us like real people with real feelings, okay?

Can you donate a signed book for my auction fundraiser?

There are lots of worthy causes out there, and if I said yes to each of these requests I’d have no author copies left. So here’s a policy that feels good to me (but is subject to change): if you are fundraising for a humanitarian or animal-rights organization, I will most likely say yes.

Can you come visit my class/school/library?

I’d be happy to (via Zoom, at least!), but please iron out the honorarium and other practical details before you send your invitation. This is my livelihood, so I need to be compensated for my time, energy, and experience.

Can I ask you for writing/publishing advice?

Drop your question in the Comet Party Wish Jar. This way I can make a video that will (hopefully) benefit everyone who watches it. If you send me a DM or email I will only refer you to this form, so please save us both some time. [Though I am on social-media/video-production hiatus as of November 2021 in order to finish drafting my new novel, your question will be waiting for me when I come back!]

Also note that I’m much more interested in talking about craft, ego management, and process-oriented creativity than about querying tips, book marketing, and all of that. You can find that sort of content elsewhere. So come to me with the questions your heart is asking (as opposed to your ego). To be clear: if you come to me looking for product-oriented, how-do-I-get-a-book-deal type of advice, I am not going to answer you.

Will you read my work?

This question is one of the prime frustrations of every author’s professional life, and I will explain why the answer is virtually always no. Reading and critiquing manuscripts takes an extraordinary amount of time and energy, which is why it’s only reasonable to expect them from the following folks:

1. your professor (who is paid to teach you and review your work)
2. your workshop classmates (their critique of your manuscript is part of their coursework, and vice versa)
3. a freelance editor or writing coach (whom you have hired for this purpose)
4. a critique partner or beta reader (with whom you enter into a reciprocal arrangement)

I know this list must seem frustratingly out of reach to a new writer who hasn’t found a community yet and may not have the funds to enroll in a writing workshop, so dive into my round-up of free creative writing 101 resources, reach out to potential critique partners on social media, stay on the lookout for free or low-cost workshops and communities (like my dear friend Heather’s Well Writers), and invest in your education as soon as you are able to do so. If you admire my work, are hoping for mentorship, and are willing to put in the time and effort, read How to Work With Me (if You Can’t Afford to Work With Me) for a clear step-by-step progression. Please explore the many resources I offer for free (there are even more inside my resource library for email subscribers; opt in here for link and password) before emailing to ask for more of my time and energy.

But I’m willing to pay you to read my work!

I appreciate that, but I’m too busy writing my own novel right now. Thank you for understanding.

I feel REALLY discouraged and I know you can help. Please can we email?

I feel you, I really do. But I have noticed a pattern of frustrated writers bypassing the work I’ve offered publicly and expecting or at least hoping for more of my time and attention in private, for free—and that’s not fair to me. So please read up on the concept of emotional labor (as the term is currently used) before exploring the work I’ve already done—Life Without Envy, A Bright Clean Mind, the Life Without Envy web workshop, my private-writing workshop (watch the introduction here, part one is free with email opt-in), my office-hours video series)—you’re bound to feel heartened again long before you’ve finished!

Also remember that if funds are tight, you can always ask for my books at your local library.

Can we collaborate?

In my experience, collaborations arise organically out of rich creative friendships. So unless we already know each other well and feel passionate admiration for one another’s work, the answer is no.

But you and I are already friends, and I need your help with…

If you are truly my friend, then you will not take offense if I have to say no (even to a “small,” “quick” favor) because it’s what’s best for my mental health.

I have a book coming out. Can I ask you for a blurb?

I’ll be happy to read your manuscript (if it’s science fiction/fantasy, gothic/horror, historical, and/or literary fiction—middle grade, young adult, or adult; or on the nonfiction side: creativity, personal growth, travelogue, or anything related to ethical veganism) and provide an endorsement if I love it (provided there’s enough time before your deadline; if you give me less than two months’ lead-time, I will not be able to say yes). I’m particularly glad to boost indie authors, because I know this process is demoralizing enough when you’re traditionally published and can make use of your publisher’s contacts. Keep in mind, though, that I wouldn’t dream of emailing a colleague to ask for a blurb if I hadn’t read (and very much enjoyed) at least one of their books. (Also, Bones & All is the odd book out in my body of work, so if that’s the only book of mine you’re interested in, I’m not going to be as enthusiastic about reading yours. Please don’t ask me to read your book if it’s about or includes cannibalism.)

To give you an idea of how this relationship-building over time would ideally work: E.F. Schraeder emailed me a couple years ago to tell me how much she appreciated A Bright Clean Mind as a fellow vegan writer; awhile after that, she forwarded me a call for proposals for a conference she figured was very much in my wheelhouse (so thoughtful!); so when she got in touch again more recently to ask if I would read (and hopefully blurb) her novel, my answer was a whole-hearted YES. Again, building these literary acquaintanceships (and eventually friendships) takes time, intention, and integrity, and if you don’t actually care about an author’s work (see above tweets), you are not going to fool us into believing that you do.

I am truly a fan of your work. Can you recommend me to your literary agent?

Feel free to compare your work to mine in your query letter, but I don’t feel comfortable honoring this type of request unless I already know you well. (I’m pretty much an outlier on my agent’s list anyhow!) For advice on finding an agent, read author and agent Eric Smith’s blog post A Beginner’s Guide to Looking Up Literary Agents. (You can read my old but still useful advice here.)

In short:

Oftentimes “the right way to ask” is not to ask at all, because even a “quick,” “no-pressure” request is energetically draining for me. The plain truth is that I’ve written this post so I don’t have to feel guilty about not responding to random people asking me for favors.

If you are truly a fan of an author’s work, you will respect the boundaries they set around their time and attention. The more we live by those limits, the sooner we’ll be able to get another wonderful novel into your hands!

Read a lot—across multiple genres—and reflect on why and how the story “works” (or doesn’t!) How, specifically, has the author managed to fashion characters you truly care about and root for? How do they establish a narrative pace that has momentum without feeling rushed? How have they furnished a world that feels fresh and vivid? What elements have they used in developing a plot that offers both surprise and a satisfying sense of inevitability?

Notice how your personal taste is developing, and consider how your reading choices will inevitably influence your own writing—indeed, be deliberate about this! Keep a private notebook. Cultivate your emotional intelligence and self awareness, because your personal growth work will allow you to develop themes that truly resonate and characters who are (in a sense) just as real as nonfictional people.

Be discerning. Even a wise and experienced writing instructor may offer advice that does not apply to your chosen genre/subgenre or style, or is not in alignment with your creative vision. That said, you must cultivate enough humility to know when you’re intelligently breaking the rules and when you’re just being arrogant. Do not convince yourself of your own genius. You will never “arrive” at a place beyond all error and frustration. Even the most critically successful authors are continually seeking to refine their craft. You’re going to feel ecstatic when you write something that seems utterly brilliant and unprecedented, but put the draft away and reread it after the high’s worn off, and you’ll see how much work you’ve yet to do. Don’t waste energy feeling foolish though—because this is the process. Some days writing and revising will feel hard, and that’s okay. Look for ways to take more pleasure in it.

One more note before we get to the resource links:

You don’t need an M.F.A. Though depending on the type of program and financial aid available, you may find it worthwhile. I’m glad I decided to do an M.A. in Writing at NUI Galway because 1, I only had to take out $15k in student loans (which I was able to pay back with the sale of my first novel); 2, it gave me the time and space to hone my craft and complete my manuscript (faster than if I’d stayed at my NYC day job); 3, it exposed me to powerful literary influences (Kate O’Brien in particular); and 4, I met some of my dearest writing pals and 16+ years later we’re still cheering each other on. Keep in mind, though, that this was MY experience. I can’t promise you’ll have a worthwhile experience even if you’re accepted into the same program.

The following resources are a mix of craft talk and philosophy that I find insightful. Perspective, style, and approach vary quite a bit. Please leave questions or recommendations in the comments for the benefit of other aspiring writers, and I’ll periodically update this list with your suggestions.

Podcasts

The good folks at the Writing Excuses podcast devoted an entire season to learning the craft from square one.

N.K. Jemisin’s master class in world building | The Ezra Klein Show

YouTube

Ingrid’s Notes: How to Teach Yourself Creative Writing, The #1 Piece of Writing Advice I Ever Received, How to Discover Your Heart Theme, 11 Beats of Story Structure, What is Profluence?, and more

Brandon Sanderson: Ten Things I Wish I’d Known as a Teen Author, Five Tips for Writing Your First Novel, and plenty of full-length lectures

Alexa Donne, HARSH WRITING ADVICE! (mostly for newer writers) [snarky but spot on], The WORST Amateur Writing Mistakes, and more

Blog Posts, Articles, PDFs, and Transcripts

The Marginalian (formerly known as Brain Pickings), Timeless Advice on Writing: The Collected Wisdom of Great Writers; James Baldwin on the Creative Process and the Artist’s Responsibility to Society

Heather Demetrios, Unlock Your Novel: A Workbook For Getting Unstuck at Any Drafting Stage (free with email signup)

Matthew Salesses, On Worldbuilding and the Question of Resistance

Nalo Hopkinson and Connie Willis, Science and Spirituality in Science Fiction (transcript of an authors’ event at MIT, March 6, 2000)

The Literary Ladies Guide: Octavia Butler’s Rules for Writers; Writing Advice from Classic Authors (blog category)

The Best Writing Advice from Colson Whitehead’s 60 Minutes Interview on Lit Hub

The Snowflake Method for Designing a Novel (I haven’t used this method, but the suggested structure-building exercises are very sensible)

Multimedia

The Writer’s Workshop @ TEDEd

Books (ask for these titles at your local library)

Craft in the Real World by Matthew Salesses (doesn’t matter if you’re not currently participating in a writing workshop)

Writing the Other by Nisi Shawl and Cynthia Ward

The Heroine’s Journey by Gail Carriger

Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg

Creativity and Flow by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi

Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott (I don’t love this book as much as I did when I first read it twenty years ago—parts of it haven’t aged well—but I still believe it’s a must read)

When you’re ready: paid workshops that are totally worth the investment

I have taken classes hosted by these organizations and have learned a lot from all of them. Scholarships are sometimes available. If nothing on the current course schedule interests you, sign up for their mailing lists for future workshop announcements.

Writing the Other

Clarion West

[My friend Henry Lien teaches fantastic workshops for both these organizations. Here’s his current schedule. Sign up for his newsletter here.]

I also highly recommend my friend Heather Demetrios’s classes (Writing Bingeable Characters, etc.) and one-on-one coaching packages.

I trust this list will keep you happily occupied for a good while! Check out my Learn With Me page for even more resources, and be sure to leave a comment with your own suggestions.

This free workshop is for email subscribers, so sign on up if you haven’t already and you’ll get the links in your welcome email!

“Can we imagine the impact of our work beyond those who can afford it?”,

I offer a clear progression as to how any aspiring writer (or other creative person) can benefit from my experience:

1. Watch the Life Without Envy mini-workshop and read the essays I’ve posted on Medium.
2. If that content resonates for you, sign up for my mailing list so you’ll get access to my free resource library. Watch the The Power of Private Writing and do the prompts. Also be sure to check out the Life Without Envy mini-workbook inside the resource library—the success-to-satisfaction paradigm shift is particularly important.
3. Ask for Life Without Envy and A Bright Clean Mind at your local library. (Depending on the library, some librarians are able to order books that patrons have requested for the collection.)
4. By now, you probably have at least a few questions percolating. Ask as many of them as you like, and I’ll make one or more videos especially for you as part of my office-hours series.
5. Watch the video(s) I’ve made to answer your question(s), and ask any follow-up questions you may have.

At any point in this progression, you can DM me on Instagram or Twitter or send me an email to introduce yourself; I will be very happy to connect with you, I just ask that you respect my time and psychic energy by refraining from asking me to read your manuscript (which is something I don’t even do for paid coaching clients before we’ve established a rapport) or writing emails that require a long private reply (like many folks these days, my email inbox is a source of anxiety for me, so relatively quick messages are the way to go).

As a white woman from a middle-class background who has sometimes been “broke” but will never be “poor,” I also ask that my fellow white writers take some time, in general, to reflect on what they truly can and cannot “afford.” I want to practice generosity in sharing my experience with everyone, but I am also trying to avoid being taken advantage of (which has happened more than once, alas, and usually with people who could have afforded to compensate me for my time and insight).

Over the next few years, I’m looking to develop a free group mentoring program for aspiring writers from marginalized communities, and if that sounds like something you’d love to be a part of, then get started now! And if you feel so inspired, I’d love it if you shared my free resources with any friends or colleagues who would find them useful. Thank you, and I hope we’ll be in touch soon.

More recently (in May 2019) I made a video as part of a Life Without Envy web workshop on YouTube, and the recommendations in that video are still good. I’ve gone deeper into my private writing practice since then, though, and I have one daily prompt to share that will hopefully be as big a game-changer for you as it has been for me (it’s at the end of this post).

Quick disclaimer: I am not a mental health professional, merely a fellow artist committed to taking responsibility for her emotional wellbeing and developing her emotional intelligence.

More on YouTube

Guy Winch’s TEDx talk, Why we all need to practice emotional first aid

Dr. Abdul Saad’s Self-Transformation Series [I really appreciate his pleasantly neutral presence and delivery—it makes the concepts he’s sharing much easier to grasp]

Clean vs. Dirty Pain and other videos from Therapy in a Nutshell [this channel is very helpful, just beware there’s occasional religiosity]

How to Feel Peace Even with Challenges, Leslie Huddart

What can I give?, Taking responsibility for our own happiness, and other videos from Ralph de la Rosa

My favorite yoga teachers on YouTube: Koya Webb (highly recommend Yoga for Anxiety and Stress Relief), Arianna Elizabeth, Kino MacGregor, Yoga with Adriene

Read on the web

An excerpt from Eckhart Tolle’s The Power of Now

7 Ways to Practice Emotional First Aid [also Guy Winch]

Byron Katie [There are free downloadable worksheets on her site, though you don’t necessarily need to fill them out; for me the key takeaway is to ask after every judgmental or otherwise negative thought you have, “Is that true?” Because it’s usually not.]

Heather Demetrios, Halting Your Thought Traffic and Hold Your Seat [+ her whole blog!]

Books

[Full disclosure: I’m using Bookshop.org affiliate links.]

Eckhart Tolle, The Power of Now and A New Earth

Guy Winch, Emotional First Aid [I recorded an excerpt here]

Joe Dispenza’s Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself

Pema Chödrön’s Comfortable With Uncertainty

Trevor Blake’s Three Simple Steps

Dr. Eric Maisel’s Coaching the Artist Within and Mastering Creative Anxiety

Lauren Sapala’s The INFJ Revolution [I’m an INFP and I still felt like Lauren was reading my soul!]

And the daily practice that has helped me most:

Since last spring, the first thing I do each day (after going to the bathroom and brewing coffee) is to write down how I’m feeling and why—and if I don’t know why, I keep writing until I have some semblance of an answer. And if I find myself feeling grumpy or frustrated during the day, I pause whatever I’m doing, go back to my journal, and ask the two questions again:

• What am I feeling right now?
• Why am I feeling it?

I didn’t really learn this from anyone, it just occurred to me one day that it would be beneficial to articulate my emotions in real time, and I noticed soon afterward that I was much less reactive. I’m also much more patient with myself and others—there have been several occasions over these past eight months when I paused and thought, Before, I would have snapped. Owing to a few unfortunate episodes in my early childhood (flagged “TMI” in the context of this post), my “pain body” is activated when I feel invisible in social situations, so (for me, at least) it’s the “self witnessing,” “self validating” aspect of the exercise that has resulted in this shift. I articulate my emotions without attaching a sense of “rightness” to them, remaining as lovingly neutral as it is possible for me to be in that particular moment.

I hope at least one of these resources offers you some relief from the COVID pressure cooker (in addition to all the “usual” stresses of life). I’ll add to this list whenever I encounter more helpful content. If you have any favorite books or links to share, I would be grateful if you left a comment. [And a big shout-out to Rachel for inspiring this post!]

My new opt-in goodie is a concise 35-minute private writing workshop video + workbook. (How is “private writing” different from journaling? Watch this.) If you found this post helpful and want more, sign up for my list and you’ll receive the link in your welcome email.

What are the two most powerful words in this or any language?

I am.

I’ve been thinking about this ever since Jill Louise Busby dropped me a DM after reading Life Without Envy. Thank you for being a vessel, she wrote.

I am a vessel, I thought. I said it out loud. And the more I said it, the righter it felt.

In the beginning, I only wanted to tell stories. I wanted to be clever and I wanted to be recognized for my cleverness. The other day I cracked a journal I kept in 2007, scanned one entry, and felt a sweet surge of relief that I am not that person anymore. (This is why I keep my notebooks.)

The evolution out of a desire to prove oneself into a desire to contribute is the central tenet of Life Without Envy, and for me that first twinkling happened in the summer and early autumn of 2010 when I volunteered on my friends’ homestead farm in Vermont. I have never been quite so content as I was those days I spent planting and weeding and watering, sleeping in a platform tent, rising before six to watch the sun coming up over the treeline as the fog withdrew from the rolling meadow before me. Best of all were the people: Gail and Paul and their neighbors, their daughters, and my fellow volunteers. That summer we all felt like Gail and Paul’s brood. Nature + making myself useful + community as close as family, that’s all I need to be happy.

My experiences at Sadhana Forest and Squam Art Workshops the following year brought the new desire into focus: more nature, more community, plus ethical veganism, art, and handicrafts. At Sadhana Forest I helped with meal planning and prep for something like 35 to 45 people, and I became my grandmother’s granddaughter (more fully than ever before) even though the cuisine couldn’t have been more different than the lasagnas and salmon loaf of my childhood: food is one of my love languages. It’s how I love my family and friends, it’s how I love myself, and it’s how I express care and concern for people I don’t know all that well yet. And I loved the feeling of being at sleep-away camp and making beautiful things alongside new friends who had also come to make beautiful things and bask in the tranquility of Squam Lake.

I thought of how one of my grade-school friends had gone to music camp every summer; I remembered the name of the organization, so I Googled it, curious as to how much it cost. Well, I don’t know how much it was back in 1995, but in 2013 it was $8,000 for a six-week program. I started to think, wouldn’t it be great if kids (whose parents could never afford a typical sleep-away camp) could have an experience like Squam? And what about kids who didn’t have parents to come home to?

I’ve been to Squam many times now—as student, teacher, and staff—and each time it bothered me how white and upper-middle-class we were as a group. More recently, Elizabeth has done a wonderful job of highlighting and supporting the work of artists, artisans, and teachers of color, but the economic inequities remain; I’m sure many knitters would love to spend four days taking classes at a lakeside cabin but will likely never have that $1,400 to spare.

On one trip I stopped at the general store in Holderness and found a rack of greeting cards with quotes attributed to Rumi: “Live your life as if the universe is rigged in your favor…because it is.” I had a flashback to a church my family and I visited above Lake Kivu in Rwanda, where 11,000 people were murdered during the genocide. Slavery, lynchings, civilian casualties. I felt this fury any time somebody brought up the Law of Attraction. The universe is rigged in your favor: this was a message appropriated by and intended solely for privileged white women like me.

I met Rachael Rice at Squam in 2014, and I referenced her excellent blog post in Email Marketing and “Authenticity,” but the message is too important not to share again here:

“Can we imagine the impact of our work beyond those who can afford it?”

Nowadays the summer camp in my mind is primarily for grownups—at least to start with—purely for logistical reasons. During quiet afternoons at the Providence Athenaeum I would dream of a library in the forest with cozy carrels where writers of all stripes and sensibilities could focus on their manuscripts. Everyone would see themselves represented on the shelves in this library. Attendees who could afford to pay for their retreat-time would subsidize those who could not; or maybe it would be a pay-what-you-can model? Filling vegan lunches packed with care, just like the ones that fueled the Bones & All revision at Hawthornden. Childcare. Hammocks and more hammocks, hammocks everywhere, and a home-sewn quilt on every bed. Writing workshops, painting and drumming workshops, workshops on foraging and herbalism and anything else people want to learn about. Safe spaces for members of marginalized communities to come together (“safe” meaning that every soul in the place understands why “no white people in this room for the next two hours” is not racist). A food forest. A swimming pool. Campfires and jam sessions. Tiny houses, perhaps—though after reading Sunaura Taylor’s wonderful book Beasts of Burden, these spaces I was dreaming of became ADA-compliant. And because white saviorism is something else I’ve been thinking about a lot, I saw myself asking, What do you actually want and need? How can I help make it happen and then leave you to use and enjoy it?

Every day—up until just a few months ago—I’d been asking myself, how the heck am I going to get from here—making next to no money off my writing at the moment, without much saved—to there, that pretty plot of acres with architectural blueprints in hand? 

I’m not sure what’s shifted, exactly, I just know that I don’t need a bridge, I AM the bridge. I’ll bring this retreat into being one plank at a time. The workshops? I can make those happen now. That’s why I wanted to publish this post on the day I launch The Bright Idea Kit and finally hang my shingle as a writing coach. The course is a $200 investment and coaching is $100 an hour, perhaps a tad ironic given the vision I’ve just shared with you, but I’ve poured all of my twenty years of experience into this class and I’m feeling confident that it’s going to catalyze a lot of creative awakenings. In terms of walking my talk, I am making myself informally available for aspiring writers who can use the mentorship, and I’ll allot more bandwidth (creating an actual program, perhaps?) as I get myself sorted financially. I’ll also be hosting free workshops starting later on in 2021 (first up: the power and potential of private writing!)

I see myself—white hair, liver-spotted hands—working away in one of those carrels. I am a writer. But my greater work for this lifetime is to “take up space” by holding space for others, to create a warm, welcoming retreat and inhabit it for the rest of my life without ever claiming it as mine.

If you’d like to be a part of this community (virtually for now and eventually IRL), you can join my mailing list to watch it all unfold and participate as much as you feel like. Thank you for reading this, and I wish you a healthy, joyful, and fulfilling 2021!

EDIT: Adding the link to Be Seen Project founder Mindy Tsonas Choi’s relevant and insightful piece from March 2021, “The Cost of Selling Belonging.”

A few notes on this and future offerings:

• There will be more where this came from—the Bright Idea Kit, which is a more in-depth course on generating “original” ideas—and you can check out the workbook preview (inside my new resource library) by signing up for my newsletter.
• “Too much useful content” is a splendid problem to have, but I don’t want to contribute to anyone’s feeling of overwhelm. Every course or webinar I put together will be something that feels necessary—something my readers have asked for. (Comment on this post if you have a request!)
• I’m working on making my course materials as accessible as possible: accurate closed-captioning, transcripts in a sans serif font, etc. (I did use a serif font in my worksheets, but I’ll be using sans serif from now on—once I’ve finished The Bright Idea Kit I’ll circle back and re-design the Provisional Confidence worksheets.)
• I will not show up in your inbox every day for a week because consumer psychology dictates that you will be more likely to purchase the course (it annoys the snot out of me when people do this!) I sent out an email announcement, I will do at least one Instagram promotion, and then (as usual) I’ll be on to the next thing.

Here are the three goals I set for 2020:

1. Put out my first online course (because I have been talking about this for at least three years. IT’S TIME!)
2. Write 200 messy pages of the new [time-travel!] novel.
3. Publish a manifesta envisioning the retreat center I intend to create (hence the name “Comet Party Summer School”).

At first I figured I’d publish Provisional Confidence and get back to novel-writing, saving the Bright Idea Kit for 2021, but I think I can put out a second course and get that messy first section of the manuscript drafted. Let’s see if I can deliver on the Bright Idea Kit in time for Preptober and bang out my pages during NaNoWriMo (that’s “National Novel-Writing Month” for the uninitiated, “Preptober” being the outlining and such that happens during the month of October).

Oh, and did I mention the online seminar I’m developing for all the vegans who’ve told me that A Bright Clean Mind isn’t for them because they’re “not creative”?! Somehow this will all get done in between working the best day job I have ever had!

Big love to my friends Neil Kramer, Nova Ren Suma, Dr. Giavanni Washington, Elizabeth Duvivier, Heather Demetrios, Rebecca Mahoney, Chantal Schreiber, McCormick Templeman, Joelle Renstrom, Jason Atkins, Erin Callahan, and Steve Saranga for inspiring me to get this thing DONE and out into the world!