After much contemplation I've decided to step away from Something She Wrote indefinitely. I have reasons, good reasons, and while it's not quite fair to have been so big on keeping it real but not expose my thinking to you now, I'll simply say that it's time for me to take the quiet path for a while.
I'll be leaving the blog public, so there's access to the archives. A lot of stuff, when I look back through my blogging history, embarrasses me, but there are some quality posts, too.
Maybe there's room for a resurrection in the future.
But either way, this doesn't mean I'm giving up on writing. It's just I'm both reconfiguring and rerouting my path.
I don't want to lose touch entirely, so if you'd like, e-mail me once in a while, and I promise I'll reply. Or, you can find me on Facebook.
Thank you all for everything. This blog and its readers--you who I have connected with--have been a defining part of me for four and a half years.
Thank you.
Love and best wishes always,
Janna
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Writing on Thursday
THE MOTHER DAUGHTER SHOW by Natalie Wexler
CAST OF CHARACTERS: Three moms, three daughters, bound by the past, friendship and DNA; struggling with change, doubt and misunderstanding.
STORYLINE: The daughters are teenagers in their senior year of high school, and this means it's time for the annual show. It's the mothers' job to create and execute the musical revue, one that will both honor their girls, and please the ranks of their private prep school.
But when everyone should be working together, relishing this special stage in life, the plot thickens with secrets, rebellion, and the sound of little more than dischord.
Will the show go on? And at what expense?
`
REVIEW: Two thumbs up. THE MOTHER DAUGHTER REVIEW is a well-written, clear story about the dynamics of relationship, the reality of life, and the power of forgiveness.
CREDITS: Natalie Wexler is a journalist and essayist whose work has appeared in the Washington Post Magazine, the American Scholar, the Gettysburg Review, and other publications, and she is a reviewer for the Washington Independent Review of Books. She wrote the award-winning historical novel, A MORE OBEDIENT WIFE. THE MOTHER DAUGHTER REVIEW is her second book. She lives in Washington, D.C., with her husband.
THE MOTHER DAUGHTER SHOW was published by Fuze Publishing LLC, and I received my review copy from Goldberg McDuffie Communications.
CAST OF CHARACTERS: Three moms, three daughters, bound by the past, friendship and DNA; struggling with change, doubt and misunderstanding.STORYLINE: The daughters are teenagers in their senior year of high school, and this means it's time for the annual show. It's the mothers' job to create and execute the musical revue, one that will both honor their girls, and please the ranks of their private prep school.
But when everyone should be working together, relishing this special stage in life, the plot thickens with secrets, rebellion, and the sound of little more than dischord.
Will the show go on? And at what expense?
`
REVIEW: Two thumbs up. THE MOTHER DAUGHTER REVIEW is a well-written, clear story about the dynamics of relationship, the reality of life, and the power of forgiveness.
THE MOTHER DAUGHTER SHOW was published by Fuze Publishing LLC, and I received my review copy from Goldberg McDuffie Communications.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Inspire Me Sunday
After a While
by Veronica A. Shoffstall
After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn
that love doesn’t mean leaning
and company doesn’t always mean security.
And you begin to learn
that kisses aren’t contracts
and presents aren’t promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of woman, not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow’s ground is
too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down
in mid-flight.
After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
you really are strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn.
by Veronica A. Shoffstall
After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn
that love doesn’t mean leaning
and company doesn’t always mean security.
And you begin to learn
that kisses aren’t contracts
and presents aren’t promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of woman, not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow’s ground is
too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down
in mid-flight.
After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
you really are strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Writing on Thursday
A Poem
Over the weekend my daughters and I went into an antiques store. While they looked at dated dolls, I picked up a crusty orange-bound, red-spined book. I'm always picking up books. Something about this one, as with so many, just caught my eye.
I flipped to its center, and this was what I read. It's simply titled SEVEN, for it's the seventh entry.
We touch.
Shoulder-to-shoulder.
You can't do more when crossing streets
with mannequins in windows looking back.
I try to match your step--
that way I'm sure of staying close.
You smell like love.
That must be so
for what I smell is dear to me and new.
And so a little walk through town
becomes a journey
a love vacation from ourselves
but with ourselves.
Everything you say is funny
or beautiful.
Sometimes I forget that old material can be so current. That something written decades ago can touch me today. Until there it is in front of me.
In this poem I recognize something I've never had, but I also (hopelessly, romantically) read my future.
So I bought the book.
LISTEN TO THE WARM by Rod McKuen , copyright 1967.
Over the weekend my daughters and I went into an antiques store. While they looked at dated dolls, I picked up a crusty orange-bound, red-spined book. I'm always picking up books. Something about this one, as with so many, just caught my eye.
I flipped to its center, and this was what I read. It's simply titled SEVEN, for it's the seventh entry.
We touch.
Shoulder-to-shoulder.
You can't do more when crossing streets
with mannequins in windows looking back.
I try to match your step--
that way I'm sure of staying close.
You smell like love.
That must be so
for what I smell is dear to me and new.
And so a little walk through town
becomes a journey
a love vacation from ourselves
but with ourselves.
Everything you say is funny
or beautiful.
Sometimes I forget that old material can be so current. That something written decades ago can touch me today. Until there it is in front of me.
In this poem I recognize something I've never had, but I also (hopelessly, romantically) read my future.
So I bought the book.
LISTEN TO THE WARM by Rod McKuen , copyright 1967.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Keep It Real Tuesday
Believing
Here's a truth. I'm struggling with faith in myself as a writer.
Sure, I blog three times a week, am consistent with the small projects I'm part of (see sidebar) and freelance jobbies here or there, and keep an eye on the larger intended projects, like my books.
But I'll feel the drive and find the zone for only a couple days at a time, then too quickly lose momentum. I'm lacking discipline. I get too caught up in my day-to-day, finding a dozen things to do instead of sit down and WRITE. There's been too much gook in my personal life to pull away and WRITE. Sometimes the blogging feels like a chore, even.
What I want to know is, what does this mean? Is it just a phase? (Please let it be a phase.) How can I be a writer if I'm not writing? Is it fair to go easy on myself--because it's not like I haven't had a lot of life happening (divorce and a move being the biggies, plus other tasty stuffs)--or am I just falling on that as an excuse?
I've got to snap out of it. I have to find my groove. I want to write again. I want my days to be filled with words and bursting with creativity.
Do you have any advice or encouragement?
What do you do when you don't believe in yourself (even though you know you should)?
Here's a truth. I'm struggling with faith in myself as a writer.
Sure, I blog three times a week, am consistent with the small projects I'm part of (see sidebar) and freelance jobbies here or there, and keep an eye on the larger intended projects, like my books.
But I'll feel the drive and find the zone for only a couple days at a time, then too quickly lose momentum. I'm lacking discipline. I get too caught up in my day-to-day, finding a dozen things to do instead of sit down and WRITE. There's been too much gook in my personal life to pull away and WRITE. Sometimes the blogging feels like a chore, even.
What I want to know is, what does this mean? Is it just a phase? (Please let it be a phase.) How can I be a writer if I'm not writing? Is it fair to go easy on myself--because it's not like I haven't had a lot of life happening (divorce and a move being the biggies, plus other tasty stuffs)--or am I just falling on that as an excuse?
I've got to snap out of it. I have to find my groove. I want to write again. I want my days to be filled with words and bursting with creativity.
Do you have any advice or encouragement?
What do you do when you don't believe in yourself (even though you know you should)?
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Inspire Me Sunday
It has been said that we need just three things in life: Something to do, something to look forward to, and someone to love.
Anonymous
'
Do you agree? Would you trade out one thing for another?
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Writing on Thursday
Holiday Haiku
Turkey, stuffing, yum.
I can't wait for deviled eggs.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Leave your own holiday haiku as a comment.
Turkey, stuffing, yum.
I can't wait for deviled eggs.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Leave your own holiday haiku as a comment.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Keep It Real Tuesday
When my post about losing a family member gets a comment that says, "Great work! Thanks for sharing!" I know it's time to opt for comment moderation. I hate to do it, friends, but the spams have been too frequent (and too insincere).
Aside from that bit of housekeeping, I want to leave you with this gem from Mark Twain: Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do.
Worth thinking about, yes?
Aside from that bit of housekeeping, I want to leave you with this gem from Mark Twain: Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do.
Worth thinking about, yes?
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Inspire Me Sunday
Life is short and life is fragile.
It isn't too soon to make a decision.
It isn't too late to make a change.
Say what you need to say.
Do what you want to do.
Life doesn't wait. We shouldn't either.
It isn't too soon to make a decision.
It isn't too late to make a change.
Say what you need to say.
Do what you want to do.
Life doesn't wait. We shouldn't either.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Keep It Real Tuesday
`
`
Too often I'm too self-conscious and reserved to live in the moment and follow an impulse.
'
For instance, I don't often jump to a staged area, especially one that is milling with people, let down my guard, and proceed to act like an idiot.
`
But that's just what I did a couple weeks ago, when some friends and I went to a fashion show. After the event we took turns playing model and photographer. The above is one of the resulting photos of me, and it makes me laugh.
`
The self-conscious me wants to criticize parts of it. But the me I'm trying to actively be realizes that's just me having fun and keeping it real. It was good for me.
`
I'm going to act like an idiot more often, I think.
**The slices in the photo happened during the photo uploading process here on Blogger. I couldn't get them to smooth out. :( My apologies.
 |
| Striking a... you know. |
`
Too often I'm too self-conscious and reserved to live in the moment and follow an impulse.
'
For instance, I don't often jump to a staged area, especially one that is milling with people, let down my guard, and proceed to act like an idiot.
`
But that's just what I did a couple weeks ago, when some friends and I went to a fashion show. After the event we took turns playing model and photographer. The above is one of the resulting photos of me, and it makes me laugh.
`
The self-conscious me wants to criticize parts of it. But the me I'm trying to actively be realizes that's just me having fun and keeping it real. It was good for me.
`
I'm going to act like an idiot more often, I think.
**The slices in the photo happened during the photo uploading process here on Blogger. I couldn't get them to smooth out. :( My apologies.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Inspire Me Sunday
We can't change what we don't confront.
Unknown
`
Is there something in life you're not confronting?
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Writing on Thursday
When I was first a writer, and wasn't yet comfortable calling myself one, I shared details about my projects. I guess to make them seem tangible, attainable. Or to even prove that I had some. I had to back up my claim, you know?
As I've moved along the last several years, and my projects have grown, I've come to keep the details of them close to me. It helps my creative process to stew on my own. And I don't want others to see what's in my pot, because, inevitably, they'll want to stir it. Or add seasoning. Serve it up before it's ready.
But it's been a while since I've talked about what I've got going on, so I thought I'd do that today.
After the beginning of the year, I was working on my third women's fiction book. About that time a literary agent contacted me about wanting to read my work. *cue hysteria* We had a few exchanges while I worked, because at that point nothing was agent-worthy, as life went on and time passed. Now here I am months later, a significantly different person after significant life changes who hasn't touched her third novel in too long.
In the spring, though, I had an idea for a narrative non-fiction book, personal and of-the-moment, which is something else I've always wanted to write. Madame Agent liked the idea, and wanted a detailed proposal. *insert more life and distraction* Additional time has passed, but here I am writing again, with new verve for the non-fiction idea. It's what I've been working on.
What's awesome is that so many things are aligning with the project. This blog and Facebook have already structured a platform for what I'm doing. I've been getting feedback from friends and readers, who are informing my content. Bits of life are coming together to support my theme, and I almost have my proposal ready.
If you're still out there, Dear Agent, don't give up on me!
Meanwhile I continue to work on my column, contribute articles, edit, create copy for others, and various freelance-type stuff. (I also have a full-time job, two kids, and a quiet but contented social life.)
So that is what's up with me and writing.
What about you?
If you're not a writer, what other projects do you have going?
As I've moved along the last several years, and my projects have grown, I've come to keep the details of them close to me. It helps my creative process to stew on my own. And I don't want others to see what's in my pot, because, inevitably, they'll want to stir it. Or add seasoning. Serve it up before it's ready.
But it's been a while since I've talked about what I've got going on, so I thought I'd do that today.
After the beginning of the year, I was working on my third women's fiction book. About that time a literary agent contacted me about wanting to read my work. *cue hysteria* We had a few exchanges while I worked, because at that point nothing was agent-worthy, as life went on and time passed. Now here I am months later, a significantly different person after significant life changes who hasn't touched her third novel in too long.
In the spring, though, I had an idea for a narrative non-fiction book, personal and of-the-moment, which is something else I've always wanted to write. Madame Agent liked the idea, and wanted a detailed proposal. *insert more life and distraction* Additional time has passed, but here I am writing again, with new verve for the non-fiction idea. It's what I've been working on.
What's awesome is that so many things are aligning with the project. This blog and Facebook have already structured a platform for what I'm doing. I've been getting feedback from friends and readers, who are informing my content. Bits of life are coming together to support my theme, and I almost have my proposal ready.
If you're still out there, Dear Agent, don't give up on me!
Meanwhile I continue to work on my column, contribute articles, edit, create copy for others, and various freelance-type stuff. (I also have a full-time job, two kids, and a quiet but contented social life.)
So that is what's up with me and writing.
What about you?
If you're not a writer, what other projects do you have going?
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Keep It Real Tuesday
Views of Me
I think of my curls as an unruly, inconsistent, frizzy mess.
My best friend says my wild hair is part of my charm.
I see me in the mirror and focus on flaws. Stretch marks, blemishes, untoned bits I take for flab.
A male friend of mine says I have a "bangin'-ass body and a great smile."
I hear something I say and cringe, want to take it back, edit, improve.
You reply anyway, and I realize you heard my wit and intelligence.
I have believed those who underestimate me.
Greater numbers of the people in my life see my value.
`
`
All of this is a lesson that the me I feel I am isn't the me you all see. I'm trying to reconcile one with the other.
I'm trying to see that it's all her. This woman. Janna. Me.
I think of my curls as an unruly, inconsistent, frizzy mess.
My best friend says my wild hair is part of my charm.
I see me in the mirror and focus on flaws. Stretch marks, blemishes, untoned bits I take for flab.
A male friend of mine says I have a "bangin'-ass body and a great smile."
I hear something I say and cringe, want to take it back, edit, improve.
You reply anyway, and I realize you heard my wit and intelligence.
I have believed those who underestimate me.
Greater numbers of the people in my life see my value.
`
`
All of this is a lesson that the me I feel I am isn't the me you all see. I'm trying to reconcile one with the other.
I'm trying to see that it's all her. This woman. Janna. Me.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Inspire Me Sunday
Find life experiences and swallow them whole. Travel. Meet many people. Go down some dead ends and explore dark alleys. Try everything. Exhaust yourself in the glorious pursuit of life.
Anonymous
`
Are you pursuing life?
`
Tell me how.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Birthday on Thursday!
 |
| confetti photo from free-extras.com |
If I could throw a party and invite all of you, I would! Thanks for making another year of my life richer.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Keep It Real Tuesday
Dark Driving
It was getting to be evening. Eight-thirty or nine or so, I don't much remember, because time wasn't on my mind.
What I do remember is that I was nestled in dark, driving on a two-lane country highway. It was a straight stretch, nothing curvy or hilly or difficult to navigate. No cars around.
Which was why I followed the impulse and took my glasses off.
The road blurred; I could see only that it was illuminated by my headlights.
First there was discomfort. This isn't what good, safe drivers do. This doesn't keep me aware, ready for one of those populous deer, or some other animal, or a parked and watching police officer who catches me crossing over the center line.
I couldn't even see the numbers on the speedometer, my vision is that bad.
But then came liberation. Liberation. I felt it from my hands, as they held the wheel, to my feet, near the pedals.
Because I knew where I was going. And I trusted myself, and I trusted what is bigger than me. I trusted the moment. It came to me that nothing bad was going to happen.
Actually, something good happened.
I gave up control.
And that gave me a great peace, just driving in the dark.
It was getting to be evening. Eight-thirty or nine or so, I don't much remember, because time wasn't on my mind.
What I do remember is that I was nestled in dark, driving on a two-lane country highway. It was a straight stretch, nothing curvy or hilly or difficult to navigate. No cars around.
Which was why I followed the impulse and took my glasses off.
The road blurred; I could see only that it was illuminated by my headlights.
First there was discomfort. This isn't what good, safe drivers do. This doesn't keep me aware, ready for one of those populous deer, or some other animal, or a parked and watching police officer who catches me crossing over the center line.
I couldn't even see the numbers on the speedometer, my vision is that bad.
But then came liberation. Liberation. I felt it from my hands, as they held the wheel, to my feet, near the pedals.
Because I knew where I was going. And I trusted myself, and I trusted what is bigger than me. I trusted the moment. It came to me that nothing bad was going to happen.
Actually, something good happened.
I gave up control.
And that gave me a great peace, just driving in the dark.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Inspire Me Sunday
But the point is to live.
The Myth of Sisyphus
'
I want to live how my heart and soul are happiest, I think that's the point.
'
I want to live honestly and authentically.
'
I want to be fully aware of myself, but more aware of others.
'
I want to mind my path, but be open to detour.
'
I want to be moral, but not innocent.
'
I want to freely give, without being frivolous.
'
I want.
'
I need.
'
But, whatever, the point is to live.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Writing on Thursday
I write a column for the Children's Miracle Network of Greater Kansas City newsletter. This is what appears in the October issue.
`
`
“In everything give thanks.”
`
I’ve a blue and rustic wooden sign emblazoned with those words. In everything, it says.
`
We give thanks for the good of life, don’t we? The things that bring us joy. For what we want and have attained, for things that make us look and feel great. For doing well. For that which makes us laugh, what makes our hearts love, our spirits grow.
`
But give thanks for adversity? For disappointment? For sickness, loss, fear, heartache?
`
Well, yes. We should. Because it’s the adversity that makes us stronger. Disappointment pushes us forward. Loss leads to cherished memories. Heartache redirects to healing, and loving again.
`
It’s all of what makes us who we are.
`
We should be thankful for everything.
`
`
I stand by these words, even with the gamut of emotion and change in my life the last couple years.
`
I am thankful.
`
Are you?
`
`
“In everything give thanks.”
`
I’ve a blue and rustic wooden sign emblazoned with those words. In everything, it says.
`
We give thanks for the good of life, don’t we? The things that bring us joy. For what we want and have attained, for things that make us look and feel great. For doing well. For that which makes us laugh, what makes our hearts love, our spirits grow.
`
But give thanks for adversity? For disappointment? For sickness, loss, fear, heartache?
`
Well, yes. We should. Because it’s the adversity that makes us stronger. Disappointment pushes us forward. Loss leads to cherished memories. Heartache redirects to healing, and loving again.
`
It’s all of what makes us who we are.
`
We should be thankful for everything.
`
`
I stand by these words, even with the gamut of emotion and change in my life the last couple years.
`
I am thankful.
`
Are you?
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Keep It Real Tuesday
Wanted
`
Newly divorced mom, writer, daughter, sister, friend
seeks reflection, determination, small bits of courage,
acceptance of life (and years) past,
willingness for the future,
relaxed expectations, self-confidence,
good intention, creation, growth of spirit, fun,
understanding, love,
peace,
and happiness.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Writing on Thursday
I need to take some time off from Something She Wrote. A month to start, maybe.
Thanks for understanding.
Be good, be well.
Thanks for understanding.
Be good, be well.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Keep It Real Tuesday
You know what's real about life? Its unpredictability. The ins and outs, the surprises. The way we expect or want one thing and end up with its opposite.
But you know what else? Even in its unpredictability, life (and all its parts) means something significant.
These day-to-day things we go through, the good and bad, the comfortable and unsettling, it all works together to create a larger plan. We can't know it, that plan, but we have to trust it. We have to believe in it. To do anything else would be unproductive. To do anything else would give disappointment too much power.
So we hold our heads up and we live life.
And that's all I've got today.
But you know what else? Even in its unpredictability, life (and all its parts) means something significant.
These day-to-day things we go through, the good and bad, the comfortable and unsettling, it all works together to create a larger plan. We can't know it, that plan, but we have to trust it. We have to believe in it. To do anything else would be unproductive. To do anything else would give disappointment too much power.
So we hold our heads up and we live life.
And that's all I've got today.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
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