This is one of those fabulous books like Steven Pressfield's The War of Art in a few ways: it's a quick read; it's inspiring in that kick-in-the-pants, no excuses way; and it's filled with maxims, delicious little nuggets to write down and repeat until they penetrate my thick skull.

If I could distill my career cravings into a single work, it would sound exactly as they write in the book. The virtues they preach are the ones I'm striving to embrace with More Time To Write, the NerdKicks Podcast, and all my projects: work hard to create quality, meaningful projects; stay focused on serving the core principle of the project; out-teach your competition; and always, always move forward.

Of the four dozen nuggets of wisdom I captured, these are the two maxims I most will embrace (and most fit my Finishing theme):

• Focus on quick wins: Momentum fuels motivation. The longer something takes, the less likely it is I'll finish it, so I must learn to break projects down into tiny decisions. Each little decision is a win that will propel me forward.
• Out-teach the competition: Sharing valuable information is the best way to build a deeper connection with my audience.

Quick wins have the lovely effect of building that kinetic energy I discussed earlier, and I'm doing my best to find ways of building little successes and finishes into my day.

The latest personal projects finished:

• I recorded a screencast and published a Google Alerts tutorial over on the More Time To Write blog
• I edited the latest episode of the NerdKicks Podcast
• I created a Projects page for this site
• I published this blog post

Back in 2009 or 2010 (somewhere in there), I kicked off the year with the goal to read a book a week. I've always been a big reader, and with my daily train commute, 52 books in the year seemed well within my reach. Successful writers read, and I wanted nothing more than to set myself up for success.

Quite the opposite.

By the end of February, I was already three books behind. By the end of April, eight books behind. Worse, I wasn't enjoying any of what I read. I felt frantic, racing through books without much thought for the content. By the end of May, I had the good sense to declare the experiment a failure. Pushing to meet a numerical goal ruined the joyful experience of reading.

But they say we learn more from our failures than we do our successes, and I certainly did learn a valuable lesson. I had picked the number, one book a week, after reading Stephen King's On Writing. I was in that tentative, beginner writer phase where I bought and obsessively consumed as many books on writing as I could, not because I thought they held some secret shortcut to becoming a better writer—thank heaven I had more sense then that—but with the hope that their wisdom would provide the activation energy I needed to pick up a pen every night.

Some books were amazingly helpful. On Writing, for me, was incredibly destructive.

As a memoir, On Writing is fascinating, and I loved it for that, but as a tome of writing advice, it really sunk my battleship. King states in several places that he believes that good writing is an inborn skill—either you have it or you don't—and you should have figured out if you have it at a young age. I hadn't written much in high school (I certainly wasn't submitting work for publication like King had) and this admonishment left me feeling utterly deflated. It conjured up the same feelings of despair I felt as an eighth grade gymnast watching the Olympics; I was past my prime. I'd wasted my life. Best to forget my dreams and sit on the couch eating Lay's Loaded Baked Potato flavor chips.

I tell you, I live a pretty clean paleo lifestyle, but if my brother walked into the room with a bag of those chips, I'd tackle him to the ground, no mercy. God in heaven, they taste as near to perfect as I think is possible.

In the book, King also wrote about reading several books a week. "I'm a slow reader," he writes, "but I usually get through seventy or eighty books a year, mostly fiction." I got it into my head that I would be a failure if I couldn't keep up at least 2/3 that pace. 80 x 2/3 = 53 books in a year. And so I gave up every scrap of my free time to failing. I felt defeated, and I knew I would never, ever be a writer.

But then I picked up Elizabeth George's Write Away and I was back in the game.

It was a worthy lesson for me to learn. Books offer great advice, but advice does not universally apply. To some, that may be an obvious concept, but as someone who has always been incredibly trusting of authority, it has been a painful lesson I have had to learn many times over.

And so my thoughts on Rework will have to wait another day, as I appear to have gotten lost in a tangent.

Here is my list of personal projects that I have finished since Wednesday:

• I finished reading The Sherlockian, a book I've been starting and stopping since Christmas 2011.
• I cleaned out my bedroom closet and straightened my office bookcase. It's not a complete finish of my office cleaning, but I'm celebrating small wins.
• I made another batch of chili and the pulled pork from Make It Paleo, as well as cooking a beef roast (my recipe needs work) and a double batch of PaleOMG's pumpkin granola.

By Wednesday, I'm committing to:

• Editing the next NerdKicks Podcast episode
• Posting another tutorial to the More Time To Write blog
• Finishing four felt hero masks

Both were quick reads and well worth the effort. The Go-Giver reminded me of reading The Goal in college, similar in that they both employ a parable to drive home their concepts. And simple though The Go-Giver's concepts are, they are powerful.

It's lovely, really, to be reading collected wisdom and thinking "Well, that's pretty obvious," and "I knew that," only to find myself in the next moment getting whacked upside the head with a flashlight, shining a light on one of my many [many] blindspots. This book revolves around five principles; the one that stood out to me as a true personal weakness: "Your income is determined by how many people you serve and how well you serve them." Spot on, and yet I have an intense desire to work closely with fewer people, rather than broadly with many. I shy away from connecting in person with other than my closest friends. It's very much something I need to watch in the coming year as I grow my business.

The true mark of a good business book comes after the reading is over. Does the book inspire any action? Or do you read it, appreciate it, and leave it to languish on a shelf, the lessons enjoyed but not truly absorbed?

I've taken a few actions directly related to that principle, and I have no doubt that I'll take more in the next few weeks:

• I reached out to a college friend I've been meaning to contact (we're having lunch on Friday). I want to catch up and to see how I can help with the band alumni society, and well as any of his projects.
• I reached out to see if I can volunteer with two different organizations that I find useful and fulfilling.

Next time, the other book, Rework by the founders of 37Signals.

And here is a list of the personal projects I have finished, beside the books:

• Edited and posted the latest episode of the NerdKicks Podcast, our interview with Jeff Smith from Stella B and the Busted League
• Made butternut squash soup and chili from Make It Paleo
• Wrote every day
• Did my weightlifting workout
• Finally found the courage to say a few things I've wanted to say for a while
• Wrote this blog post

Not too shabby. See you Friday.

I love starting projects, love the inherent novelty of exploring a new idea, the thrill of imagining all the possible ways to execute my new project. I think often of physics, and the difference between potential energy (the energy of a ball on the edge of a cliff, not yet fallen) and kinetic energy (the energy the ball releases as it falls). I live too much in the world of potential energy, in the energy of an idea not yet executed. I live in my head, rather than in action.

And then another fun project comes along, and I abandon everything for the next new shiny possibility, leaving the last idea to languish in the land of half-finished projects. I'm not even as far in the project lifecycle as Seth Godin's "shipping" concept, when one has to decide where done is. I struggle there as well, but not nearly as much as I do with idea hopping.

It comes, I think, from two places: I have an active, idea generating imagination; and I have a fear of making decisions. I become overwhelmed by imagined terrible outcomes—for an optimist, I'm skilled at visualizing awful possibilities—that I forget the incredible lightness accompanying a decision made and executed. Truly, is there any better feeling than a tough challenge tackled?

Teresa Amabile from the Harvard Business School offers powerful proof that that tracking our small wins motivates big accomplishments, so I've set up my own version of a work diary using this IFTTT recipe. When the email arrives, I hit reply, answer the questions in line, and email it to my Evernote account.

So this is my motto for the year: finish. To me, that means sticking to a project even as the potential energy begins to transform into kinetic energy, making decisions rather than thinking about decisions, and celebrating my tiny wins every single day.

Tiny wins such as finishing a blog post.

Last year, beginning on the Friday after Thanksgiving, I began a project focusing on gratitude. I wrote one thank you card every day for a month, thanking the people who had given me such a great year. 2011 was transformative for me, a year in which a few key interactions with people helped me realize the value inside myself.

I've decided to reprise this project, and am writing a thank you card every day in the month of December. I find myself at the end of 2012 living in a different state, working at a different job, creating an entirely different plan for my life than I had a year ago. Externally, very little is the same, but internally, I remain the same: immensely grateful for everyone in my life, for all the people who have helped me make decisions, pack and unpack boxes, and best of all, given me two little fuzzballs to call my very own.

Like last year, I won't share the text of the cards, but I do plan to share some of the thoughts on gratitude that bubble up as I write those cards.

These guys! Boxes are a chance to escape the dull routine of windsowsill, couch, carpet; a place to play hide-and-seek with a brother; a castle that needs defending from invaders. Once my move from Philly was complete, I just didn't have the heart to take the boxes away from my little explorers, but I was also sick of staring at cardboard.

That's when a silly notion entered my head. With a half hour's work and an old pumpkin-carving knife, I turned four old boxes into this:

That night while shopping, we made a detour to Home Depot for bit of paint, and if my mom hadn't stopped me, I would have been outside, spray painting in the dark. Instead I woke up early (7:00 a.m.!) and got straight to work painting. While the paint dried, I crafted the shield, banner, and flags.

I was ridiculously pleased with it and I just couldn't stop giggling! It was the purest fun I'd had in a very long, very sad and lonely time. I didn't care if anyone liked it and I didn't make it for any reason other than my own amusement. If the cats chewed it to bits the next day, what did it matter?

This silly kitty castle acted as the catalyst I needed to get me making things again after an eight month dry spell, unleashing a tsunami of startitis. Within a day I began a half dozen other projects, glitter shoes, a knitted shawl, various Christmas gifts. I had my groove back.

All it took was a few cardboard boxes. My cats conquered a castle and I recaptured the simple joy of creation.

NerdKicks is not only up and running, it's 20+ episodes strong! Gosh, I'm proud of it. Matt and I have put out some killer shows with fascinating nerds. I'm learning buckets about the arts of collaboration and interviewing. Do you know someone we should interview? Email us!

I quit my day job at The Hub, a company I love very much, to start my own gig, More Time To Write. I'm putting my natural sidekick skills to work in virtual assisting, so if you know any writers, bloggers, or podcasters struggling with the administrative tasks that tagged along with their success, send them my way! I'll take good care of them.

I moved home to Minnesota after six years in Philadelphia, and I'm so happy to be back. I fit the rhythms here. Best of all, I get to spend proper time with my little family. Two visits per year wasn't enough.

I'm not getting married anymore. I'm learning so much about myself.

The best side effect from all these crazy changes is that I've started making things again (in addition to the podcast). That's for tomorrow's post...how a few moving boxes and a can of spray paint got me unstuck.

So that's my last six months in a nutshell! How are you? Any big changes lately? Hit me up below or that other place I live.

Love.

Why I Should Not Become a Graphic Designer

I am so excited to show you the NerdKicks logo!

Holy catchphrase, Batman! Was I nervous to tackle this part of the project! How do you come up a logo for a term that you've coined?

I'd like to think that I have a good eye for design, in that I'm capable of recognizing it when I see it. But as the official proofreader at my company, my eye is better trained for noting visual incongruities than for developing new visual content. As I often remind our sales team, we leave collateral design to the professional. (His name is Eric and he is very patient.)

I live in awe of visual designers, people for whom this kind of creative development becomes second nature. Before this project, the closest thing to a logo I'd designed was this, as part of a birthday present:

In my Google-fied Latin, the motto reads "Words Are Mightier Than Dragons." 

Frankly, I'd planned to leave logo development in Matt's capable hands. But some projects won't sit quietly in the corner and thoughts of our logo continually nagged me for several days. "Go bother Matt," I tried to tell the thought, but instead it plopped down on my keyboard like a needy kitty and refused to leave until I gave it some attention.

Don't worry, I'll take the blog post from here.

The Logo Concept

We are working with two ideas, the sidekick and a nerd. To me, the most recognizable image of a sidekick is this:

Robin, wearing his black mask. Photo courtesy of Martin.Jessica

The most recognizable image of a nerd is this:

All nerds have tape on their glasses, right? Photo courtesy of ThatEpicNerdd

What about a logo with an image of the mask with tape on the bridge? I shot off the idea in an email to Matt; he responded quickly with "Love this!"

And here my troubles began.

I have a Pete-Holmesian desire for approval,* and as soon as someone tells me they love my idea, it triggers a creative arms race, an epic quest to top myself, to make it better, to get an even bigger response. I decided to take a crack at mocking up the logo myself.

This despite the fact I've never drawn anything in Photoshop.

This is how I approach all my craft projects. I don't set out to learn needlepoint, but rather I decide that needlepoint is the only route to creating the project I see in my head, I research the hell out of it, and tackle the project, failing again and again until I've built up enough skill to execute my vision. I've written about the process here.

If I may venture to speak for nerd-kind, I believe this is our true gift: we view challenges as puzzles to be solved, and then (and this is the key), we figure out how to break that puzzle into steps that lie just within our reach. We are masters of achieving flow.

"You know that what you need to do is possible to do, even though difficult, and sense of time disappears. You forget yourself. You feel part of something larger.” -- Mihaly Czikszentmihalyi**

Now, if you've used Photoshop, you can guess now how my version of the logo turned out. The program has a steep learning curve and cannot be mastered in a night. I spent the first hour in a state of flow, happily drawing Bezier curves. I may have even bragged to my cats at some point.

But then I tried to fill in color, and everything went to hell in a handbasket. I spent the next three hours searching help files, watching YouTube tutorials and swearing profusely at the program. I always feel a mix of shame and resentment when I can't Google search my way out of a problem.

Eventually Andrew figured out my mistake--I'd begun with an incorrect setting, meaning this logo had been doomed from the beginning. Just before midnight, I chucked all of my work and started over. I emerged at 2:30 with this:

Not our final logo.

I was inordinately proud of it, despite the fact that it's not that...well...it's not that great. I had tackled yet another scary project and hadn't completely humiliated myself. This is how all my favorite hobbies begin.

Matt took a few passes at the logo:

Closer, but the tape isn't quite right.

The tape turned out to be our downfall. We just couldn't get it right, and so finally, we called in a professional. Matt's friend Jonathan, also known as ByBloggers, did us a big ole favor and made us this:

The official NerdKicks logo! Yay, Jonathan! 

Folks, you should have heard me squeal when Matt emailed it to me! With Jonathan's help, we'd conquered our first big hurdle.

In the process, it reminded us of one of the tenets of the NerdKick philosophy. In trying to design the logo ourselves, Matt and I tried to be heroes. We failed. Thankfully, Matt had enough sense to turn to a friend with the knowledge and skills to pull off the project.

And Jonathan—our nerdkick—saved the day.

-----

Next Time: Our first recordings, and why closets should have power outlets. If you haven't done so, please sign up for our mailing list (and tell all your nerdy friends)!

-----

*Corey, that joke was for you. :-D

**I'd like to wholly endorse the sponsor of that video, Lynda.com. I have a monthly subscription and have learned tricks that have made me so happy I cried. Like legit tears of joy, yo!

Yaaaaaaaaay!

Thanks! I feel calm now. Perhaps you've seen mention of NerdKicks on my Twitter feed over the last month, and maybe you've signed up for our mailing list (please sign up for our mailing list!). Matt and I are in the process of putting this project together, and although it's not ready yet, I'm too excited to keep it to myself!

Meet Matt

First of all, let me introduce Matt Gartland! We met last summer over at the Accidental Creative. As the editorial director, it was his job to accept my nervous, scattered writing attempts, not throw his hands up in frustration, and teach me how to make them readable. Poor dear! In the process, we bonded over our nerdy love of Harry Potter, British television and movies, and epic book series.

Matt recently launched his own editing business, Winning Edits, with targeted advice for indie authors. The monthly newsletter will knock your socks off! You'll be amazed at how much advice this guy gives away for free! And then, about five minutes later, you'll notice your feet are cold.

"That's odd," you'll think. "I swear I was wearing socks before I read the Winning Edits DIY Book Development Dispatch. Why didn't someone warn me I'd lose my socks in this transaction?"

Look, don't complain to me! Lost socks are a small price to pay for stellar writing advice! I also hear the @WinningEdits Twitter feed is amazing.*

What the heck is a NerdKick?

When Matt and I met up over the Christmas holiday, we got to discussing his idea for a nerd leadership project. At this point I subjected him to my long, nerdy rant about why I love sidekicks just as much, if not more than, heroes. Leaders don't exist in a vacuum; they must have followers, and the sidekick is the most important follower. Not only does the sidekick legitimize the hero's idea, the sidekick is often crucial in the implementation of the idea.

A good sidekick is almost always a nerd, a person willing to do the research, to put in long hours in the library in a search for the obscure bit of information that unlocks the mystery. Where would Harry have been without Hermione? He wouldn't have lived through his first year at Hogwarts. I'm always drawn to the nerds: Data from Star Trek: The Next Generation, Hermione, R2D2, Commissioner Gordon, Abed on Community, Penelope Garcia on Criminal Minds.

Matt did what a good editor does: he listened to my long-winded rant and distilled it down to a single concept: NerdKicks. A nerdkick is the nerdy sidekick whose hard work continually allows the hero to shine: the engineer that builds the space shuttle so the astronaut can orbit the Earth, the analyst whose reports guide corporate strategy, the editor who makes your writing sparkle.

I am a nerdkick. I bet you are too.

What's Next?

NerdKicks will revolve around the podcast, which we are in the process of putting together (we ran our initial test recording on Monday). We'll tackle leadership topics from the nerd's perspective; data-driven and over-analyzed, with a healthy infusion of humor and play.

All of this will take place over at NerdKicks.com. I'll be keeping you up to date on our pre-launch progress here. For now, the best way to help us out is by joining our mailing list.

Next time: The NerdKicks logo, and why I should not become a graphic designer.

*I may or may not run the @WinningEdits Twitter feed. I'll never tell.

My commute into Philadelphia each day takes 45 minutes, and on the days I'm not fast asleep, I occupy myself during the train ride with comedy podcasts and loud music—anything to wake me up and get me in a good mood. On the mornings I forget my iPod or can't even muster the energy to listen to music, I get roundly mocked by my cheerful coworkers—worse than morning people, they're hospitality professionals—able to front a good morning game even if they're running on only 90 minutes of sleep. I, on the other hand, make a beeline each morning for our cafe. Door. Coffee. My brain can handle only so much before 10:00 a.m.

Most days I choose podcasts, but back in 2009 I went through a loud music phase, listening to American Idiot and Stadium Arcadium, while trying to convince myself my life was on the right track. A phrase from one song, "Make You Feel Better," stuck in my head:

"Dreams so wide like a country mile."

I grew up in rural Minnesota, near to my small town but far from a city. Any drive took us past farmers' fields; neighbors growing sweet corn that we'd pay for by leaving dollar bills in the on-your-honor coffee can. The song came up on my playlist each morning as the train pulled into Philly's 30th Street Station, but in my mind's eye I pictured a lonely stretch of County Road 39—the signal that I was almost home, to our little brown house on Clearwater Lake.

Those words, the opening to a peppy song about feeling better, made me profoundly sad. My dreams barely stretched the length of a Philly food cart, and could be summed up as, "Don't get fired. Move back to Minnesota as soon as possible."

The phrase stuck in my head, a sliver too thin and invisible to pull out. I listened to the song each morning until it was the only song, a playlist of one, and each morning I interrogated myself about potential dreams. Anything I conjured up was indistinct, fuzzy around the edges. They weren't real but merely what I thought my dreams ought to be. It took well over a month of daily musing before I found the answer. My dream: to have dreams as wide as a country mile.

I still remember the pale, gray morning sky peeking over the Market Street skyscrapers. It wasn't much, but it would do. My only dream was to have dreams. It was a beginning, and I instantly felt better.

***

I've spent a lot of time over the last month meditiating on the idea of permission. I envy people with the innate confidence to dream something and then do it, no stopping to see if anyone approves. I'm inherently a permission-seeker; a rule-following, people-pleasing Midwestern girl, always waiting for someone to give me the go-ahead on my ideas. I'm a sidekick rather than a hero.

In so many ways, you've given me permission to pursue my aspirations. Your friendship and feedback regarding the Accidental Creative and Nerdist columns mean so very much to me. From our silly Twitter conversations, posts like Scott's, and through requests for collaboration, you're teaching me that I can trust my instincts. That perhaps I don't need anyone's permission but my own.

My default, when I feel scared, is to wait for someone to validate my idea before I move forward. I've prepared myself by making this the cover of my 2012 planning notebook:

Permission granted.

***

Monday morning found me in an inordinately good mood. I'd spent the weekend building and writing, I'd had several good project collaborations, and I was wearing a kickass pair of black boots. The thought came in to my head as I pushed through the revolving door out on to Market: I had dreams. A lot of dreams—dreams for my writing and creating, dreams for the way I want to live my life, dreams for the people I want as a part of my life—dreams so wide, like a country mile.

I'm not where I want to be, but for the first time ever, I feel like I know where I'm headed. And that makes me feel better.

http://www.bbcamerica.com/anglophenia/2011/12/top-5-nerdist-podcasts-of-2011-no-5-a-visit-from-a-wise-craftsperson-bearing-gifts/

Perry, the editor over at Nerdist.com listed my appearance on the Nerdist podcast as the #5 episode of the year, as the representative for all the year's hostful podcasts. Where did he list it? On the BBC America Anglophenia website, meaning that my name appeared on something associated with the BBC, and with that I have lived up to all Childhood Mindy, the biggest anglophile in Central Minnesota, could ever have wished for.

I'll be taking the rest of the year off.

As my gratitude project winds down (only four days to go), I can think of no better subject to reflect on than my experience with Chris, the Nerdist, and the domino reaction that has followed.

A year ago in December, I was struggling to love my job. We were understaffed in the accounting area and the burden fell to me to pick up the slack. Only my steady diet of podcasts separated me from a major meltdown. One particularly stressful afternoon (chat records show that it was 12/10/2010), I decided to look up the Comedy Death Ray silent auctions for the LA Food Bank.

I'd like the record to reflect that I eat lunch at this time each day.

I made the bid impulsively. Something in my gut said "go for it, it'll break you out of this funk." You know what? It worked—but not just for that day, it broke me out of the four year long funk I'd been living in, ever since I got fired and moved to Philly.

I took a risk that day, a risk that I'd have enough confidence to sit down and talk to people I admired, as well as a risk of some money. Believe me, that was a sizeable amount of cash for me. I don't buy stuff just because I want it. I own shirts older than some of our company's employees*, I buy/download one CD a year (this year's was a best of Nickel Creek), we live in a small apartment. I try to live frugally so that I can take advantage of experiences that will have an impact on me long after the item has been consumed.

Boy, did this ever hit the mark!

Succeeding on the first part of the risk—winning the auction—felt great! More importantly, the anticipation and worry I felt while waiting for the auction to close seemed to shake me awake. I'd been living a careful, boring life, letting other people make decisions for me about where to live, how to spend my free time, where to go on vacation (hence the note about the cruise).

My risk had paid off. Would others? Instead of telling myself "Oh, I can't do that," I started asking "Why not do that?"

• Why not, while I was corresponding with Chris Hardwick, ask if I could write for his site? Enter the Make Cool Stuff column.
• Why not ask a maker acquaintence if I could write about his company? It became my first Nerdist post and was picked up by my favorite daily read, the Mental_Floss Watercooler Ammo email.
• Why not start corresponding with strangers that reached out to me on Twitter? Enter Emily and Mandy, my first Twitter friends that I didn't know (and now there are so many of you).
• Why not ask to join favorite podcaster Todd Henry's book promotion street team? It gave me the opportunity to meet him in person and help out when the flight to his book launch got canceled.
• Why not say yes when Todd asked me to write for his site? I got to write a series, work with an editor who has become a great friend, and subsequently become a member of the Accidental Creative online team.

Day-to-day life also improved. My job turned around, I started dressing better, I found a decent hairstylist. I started treating myself like I mattered and sticking up for myself rather than deferring to the status quo.

Most importantly—I can't give this enough credit—I started listening my instincts. Periodically a situation would pop up and I would have a very strong gut reaction of which way to go, one that I usually ignored in favor of solid reasoning. Again and again this year, honoring that gut reaction has paid off. I've started listening/feeling for it, and when it pops up, I take a moment to pay attention.

2011 has been the best year of my adult life—it's been the first year where I really felt like an adult. Before this year, growing up sounded awful, the end to spontenaiety and picking up the burden of responsibility. I was wrong. Becoming an adult has meant taking control of my life, making purposeful decisions and taking calculated risks. It hasn't meant giving up my playful spirit—I've been far more spontaneous and silly than the six post-college years that preceded 2011.

And all this before I even showed up in Los Angeles to be on the podcast. That, it turned out, was just the icing on the cake. I'd gotten my money's worth long before I sat down in front of the microphone, publicly insulted the lovely city of Philadelphia, and subsequently met all of you through the internet. I am most sincere when I tell you that I love you all.

2011 was my kick-in-the-ass year. 2012 will by my kicking ass year, to put it ever so eloquently. I've just gotten my taste of powers under a yellow sun.

If you're in need of a little motivation for the coming year, I offer you two pieces I kept returning to throughout the year, a blog post from Chris and a podcast from Todd. After that taste, I urge you to buy both of their books—Chris's to get you moving and Todd's to help you put together a creative rhythm. Todd's in particular has made a major difference in my life (see above AC series).

Oh, and I found this at the end of that chat transcript with Andrew: 

*My favorite tshirt is 24 years old.

A stack of cards ready to go out

Today is Day 18, over halfway through 30 Days of Gratitude. I'm thrilled to report that I've written a full 18 thank you notes so far, although my writing practice has not been daily. Instead, I've written in sprints, completing several cards at a time.

My greatest struggle is keeping up the practice of daily writing, and is at the top of my 2012 First Quarter priority list. Little projects like these are an excellent nudge to keep me on track.

My favorite card so far, from Black Heart Letterpress

As I write the thank you cards, I've been asking myself the following questions:

• Who taught me a new skill?
• Who gave me an unexpected opportunity?
• Who helped me view my world in a new light?
• Who showed me kindness?

I find that as I'm writing one card, the idea for the next recipient pops into my mind. I reach the end of the card and I don't want to stop writing. As I go through my day, the little moments of kindness stand out more clearly. Gratitude begets gratitude.

Andrew and I got into an argument earlier this week that stemmed from a lingering lack of gratitude. We spend so much time together that we forget to acknowledge each other, to say thank you, to go beyond saying"I love you" and actually express it in deeds. Neglect begets anger.

As I review 2011, both to express my gratitude and to craft my goals for 2012, I see the ways in which small actions and risks have big results. My approach to 2011 was chaotic, drifting from one whim to another. I'm excited to take the lessons I've learned from 2011's successes and failures and put them to work building purposeful habits for 2012. Just as writing daily, exercising, and eating right are important habits, so too is the daily expression of gratitude.

Do me a favor, right now. Step away from the computer, give someone you love a hug and say "thank you, I appreciate you."

Day 2: For my aunt, who flew in from Minnesota for Thanksgiving

Day 3: For my brother, whom I miss terribly and who can always make me laugh

Day 4: SEPTA Passenger Services Team, who have always been cheerful when I stop in

Card number one is ready to go!

Happy Thanksgiving, friends! I hope you had the day you wanted, be it with friends, family, or a quiet snuggle under the covers with a good book.

We celebrated as we have since moving to Philly—New York Uncle came down on the train for a day of cooking and lazing about, but this year had an extra, high-octane treat: my aunt came in from Minnesota! This aunt and NY Uncle are two of my mom's siblings, absolute peas in a pod with my mom. My aunt is the only person I know who can out-talk me, and so the day was perfection itself. Yes, I added too much milk to the potatoes, but who cares? Not us. We ate, we laughed, we were our small but happy family.

I have so much gratitude for my family, for this life, and in particular, for this year.

Convenient, then, that today is the first day of my Thirty Days of Gratitude project! More than convenient—I would say perfect—that my uncle is here to spend this time with me. There is no person as deserving of my thanks than him. He has been a major pillar of support in my life these last five years, my only family member within a thousand miles.

More than a family member though; he has been a friend in the truest sense of the word. When I turn to him for advice, I know I will get the kind but unvarnished truth, free from the parental obligation to counsel. He has no expectations for me, only the wish that I live a good and happy life.

Over the course of this year, he has stepped in to fill the badly needed role of male role model, a position left vacant eleven years ago when my grandpa died. Even at 31, a girl still finds herself in need of some fatherly support from time-to-time, and he has filled in admirably. 

My decision to move from Minnesota to Philadelphia was grounded in fear, and I spent the previous four years focusing on all the things I gave up: visits with my friends and family, my preferred climate, the familiar comfort of home. My thinking shifted midway through this year, and I've begun to focus on all that I've gained since moving here.

The single biggest gain has been this friendship. I am truly grateful to have him in my life.

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Thanks to all who have decided to join me on this project! I hope that you are finding the inspiration you need. Let me know how I can help, and if you need a push to get started, please reach out to me.

The envelopes from my mom's cards are just as fun as the cards themselves!

The seeds of this project have been germinating under grow lights for a while. Back in September I sat down to write a couple of thank you notes. As I dug through my box of spare cards—all the way to the bottom for the thank you cards—I realized it had been at least three years since I'd written a thank you note.

Shameful.

I say thank you, I email thank you, according to TweetStats one of my most tweeted words is "thanks," but you and I both know that nothing compares to receiving the words "thank you" in writing. I've never been diligent with thank you notes. I don't think I sent more than a handful of thank you notes throughout my childhood, I just told my mom I did (sorry Mom, sorry Grandma). I remembered to send them after job interviews, but that served my own self-interest as much as it offered my appreciation.

Have you seen the blog is Letters of Note? The handwritten letters captivate me, as they offer insight into the writer; his mood, his sense of humor, his level of precision. Did the writer have exacting penmanship or was he comfortable sending the letter with cross-outs? I especially adore notes that include little drawings (I've already linked to this letter from father to son, my favorite; see also this letter from father to daughter), perhaps because my mom and my uncle both illustrate their letters to me (and envelopes, as above).

The handwriting of a loved one is special. I have a yellow box that holds nearly every card I've received in the last dozen years, beginning my freshman year of college. A few short years later I lost Shannon, Grandma, and Grandpa all in one awful week. I can't explain it, but I cherish scraps of their handwriting as much—if not more—than photographs.

Shannon always wrote with a green pen, her favorite color.

As the art of letter writing declines, the value of notes and letters increases. While I have no doubt that someday people will coo over an Emails of Note blog, one part of the aesthetic connection is lost when all our written communication is transmitted through 1s and 0s. The artist in me appreciates having something tangible, to feel the weight of the card and the topography of embossed letters, to recognize Shannon's green ink or my mom's illustrations.

Perhaps, like the hastily written thank yous after an interview, this project is just for my own benefit. If so, fine; but I like to imagine that other people appreciate receiving handwritten letters just as much as I do. I'm eager to get started; I can barely wait for Thanksgiving to arrive so I can write the first note!

How about you? Do you keep cards? What about them do you love?

Cards ready and waiting for their turn.

Thirty Days of Gratitude is a patchwork quilt of different projects I've admired this year, each of which I'll highlight as we go along. Most recently, and perhaps most directly, it is inspired by the generous Secret Agent L project.

Everyone needs a cool hunter in their lives; my friend Matt has impeccable taste, so when he said, "I think you'll like this site," I knew it would be great. Try amazing! Laura (Secret Agent L) encourages random acts of kindness around the world. Please go check her site. I'll wait.

Now that you've seen it, do you feel inspired? Do you want to participate? I know I was, am, and will be inspired by Laura and her affiliated agents for a long time to come.

The news in Philly gets me down on a daily basis: shootings, suicide by train, an awful lady keeping prisoners in her basement to steal social security money. I'm filled with despair at the violence for the sake of violence. Secret Agent L is the antithesis; a network of people sharing kindness purely because they can.

As with our Thirty Days of Gratitude, you don't need money to participate in Secret Agent L's project. Yes, a lot of the projects posted there include gift cards or store-bought items, but my first project as an affiliated agent cost me a total of eight cents and some time.

You don't need money to participate in Thirty Days of Gratitude. It's okay if you can't afford to buy greeting cards. It's okay if you don't know how to make your own. Grab a piece of white paper and write a letter. You could illustrate it if you'd like, but as long as your words are genuine, have confidence that is enough.

I've been casting about for my next project over the last few weeks, not quite sure where to take this blog next. What do I want to write about? What do you want to read? Rather than hopping from topic to topic, I've wished I had something larger to share with you.

I think I've finally found it. Beginning on Thanksgiving and running over the course of thirty days, I am going to hand write a thank you card daily to someone who has influenced my life over the past year.

I have so much to be grateful for this year; I'm traveling down the road of my life's goals. Far more importantly, I have so many people to be grateful for, all of the lovely people who are helping me along the way, both new and long-time friends. I don't say thank you often enough.

Here are the parameters for my project, although I suspect I'll make some alterations along the way:

• Why: My life is going well and I need to recognize the people who have helped me get here. Daily writing practice is an ancillary benefit.
• Daily commitment: Hand write at least one thank you card per day; photograph the card
• Duration: November 24 (Thanksgiving) to December 23

I don't feel it is appropriate to post the contents of the letters here on the blog (that's between the recipient and me), but I will post a photo of the the card's outside. I'm looking forward to writing about the inspirations for this project and the role gratitude has played in my life.

I'd love for you to join me, if not for thirty days, then at least for a day or two. Identify someone who has made a difference in your life this year and find a way to say thank you.

Photo by Sadie Hernandez

Let's do a review of our entries! We have some crazy pumpkins:

The first entry I'll highlight has a literary flair: a Cthulhu pumpkin from our friend pixiepanther (a_lovecraft on Flickr). Look at those tentacles! Also, I think the red glow stick imbues it with an added eerieness, don't you agree?

This pumpkin is what inspired me to start the contest, as pixiepanther sent me a few photos of the work in progress. It made me so happy that I wanted to see more Halloween project photos. MORE! MUAHAHAHAHA!

*Ahem.* Sorry.

Next up, we have PhotoKnight77's Flame Pumpkins. I most love the expression on the pumpkin on the left—he's very suspicious of the two to his left. I picture him as a lackey who got in a bit over his head; a yes man who suddenly realizes he's about to face a federal prison sentence for doing what his boss told him.

Nick explains how to achieve this fiery look here. (Hint: accelerants are involved.)

Next, check out this candy corn-themed My Little Pony from sfd_art! She's very goth, don't you think? I want boots and a necklace like that! Also, check out sfd_art's (I'm sorry, darlin', I don't know your real name) other sculptures on Flickr. I love the Cinnamon Roll Mickey!

Now for our costume submission from Corey (@corforks), which is both adorable and yummy (contains Reese's Peanut Butter Cups—the best candy ever)! Look at the brick detail! I always like costumes of unusual or inanimate objects. It takes a little more imagination.

And now, friends, I present to you our winner! The lovely Emily and Mandy helped me make the choice, but I really wish I could give each submission a prize!

Walt Keegan's (@Avant1963) crazy Alien-themed haunted house blew all of our minds! The attention to detail on the chest-bursting alien truly rises to nerdy levels AND it incorporates electronics!

Frankly, it scares the heck outta me, and I think that's the point. Walt, if you ever make a Gremlins-themed haunted house, NEVER SEND ME PICTURES! I know they're cute, but the image of the nasty gremlins laughing haunted me for years.

Join me in congratulating all our friends for making fantastic Halloween projects! Remember, friends, keep making cool stuff and don't forget to share pictures!

The 2011 Make Cool Stuff Halloween Competition!

The rules are simple: 

• Take a picture of a Halloween item (costume, pumpkin, decoration, food item) that you made.
• Upload it to http://www.flickr.com/groups/makecoolstuff/
• Please, no more than two entries per person (because sometimes your stuff is so cool that you can't pick just one!)
• Enter by 9:00 p.m. EDT Wednesday, November 2, 2011.

Your entries will be reviewed and adored by me and two lovely ladies, Emily and Mandy*. We will pick a winner, using the following as our guide:

• Is it handmade? (As in, not store-bought. Use of sewing machines, RepRaps, CNCs, power tools, etc. is legit...too legit to quit, hey hey!)
• Is it Halloween-y?
• Bonus: Is it nerdy?
• Bonus: Did it make us laugh?
• Mega-super-bonus: Did you write up a detailed tutorial and link to it in your Flickr picture description?

While all participants will win my undying affection, the winner of our little competition will also get a $50 gift card to either Target or Amazon (your choice) and a rockin' set of pirate notecards (20 large, 20 small, with envelopes) from JenniBick stationery.

Check out that sweet pirate booty!

We will announce the winner on Friday, November 4, 2011 on this blog—don't forget to check back to see if it is you!

*These ladies have serious maker-cred of their own! Check out Emily's Zombie Apocalypse Survival movie (for class credit, no less!) and Mandy's photography on her Tumblr.

Each year a close friend back home in Minnesota hosts a big Halloween party, and it feels sad to me to miss out on it. Each year has a theme; I get to see my friends throw their creativity into planning the decorations, the menu, the costumes. In short, it's everything I love and I miss it dearly.

But this year something wonderful happened! You happened, my lovely readers! At the end of the Nerdist post I asked people to send me photos of finished projects, and again this morning I sent out a tweet inviting folks to share their weekend projects. I was amazed at breadth of creativity, imagination, and the maker spirit I've seen from everyone in just three days! You sent me pictures of your carved pumpkins, your terrifying props for the haunted house, of Christmas ornaments, and sea creature figurines. The eye for detail has been especially impressive!

I miss home the most keenly on the holidays when I can't get back to Minnesota. I crave those face-to-face connections, but you've shown me another avenue to meaningful connection. It doesn't replace home, but it does replace some loneliness with wonderful inspiration.  Thank you, thank you, a thousand thank yous for sharing your creativity, your holiday with me. It absolutely warms my heart and fills me with inspiration to keep making, to keep writing, to keep finding fun projects to share with you.

I love you all, kittens!