Do you ever want to hit the reset button and begin again? I certainly do, especially when it comes to my writing practice. As many of you know, November was National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), and although I wasn’t working on a novel, I resolved to at least touch my writing every day in November. Well, that lasted about two weeks and then life got in the way. We each have our own version of this, but you know what I mean—our resolutions disperse into the atmosphere like

Where I live in Loudoun County, the snow is falling thickly. According to the forecast, we are supposed to get up to 10 inches, which is a whopper of a storm for us in northern Virginia. So, for those who are able to stay home and receive this day as a gift of found time, I offer these 10 ideas for things to do on a snow day (the writer’s version): 1. Sit in bed with a cup of hot tea or coffee and peruse that book on writing you’ve been meaning to finish (in my case, Elizabet

Sometimes I think I do my best writing on my friend Summer Hardinge’s screen porch. As a writing workshop leader, I have long realized the importance of filling my cup by going to other leaders’ workshops. Summer and I are both Amherst Writers & Artists workshop facilitators, and we attend each other’s sessions as much as possible. But Summer has something I do not: an enormous screen porch (pictured below) that could be featured on the cover of Veranda or Southern Living. An

“If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans.” —Woody Allen On Thursday I made the five-hour drive to Milanville, Pennsylvania, with two writer friends. We arrived at the Highlights Foundation’s retreat center after dark, the final eight miles of the trip made stressful by rain, fog, and serpentine country roads. As is always the case at Highlights, we were greeted warmly and invited to sit down to a hearty, healthy dinner: baked lemon chicken, salad with homemad

In February I went to a yoga and meditation retreat in the mountains of Costa Rica. When I say “in the mountains,” what I mean is that our retreat center was perched on the side of one, and we were issued bamboo walking sticks upon our arrival to help us navigate the terrain. (Don’t feel sorry for me—the views, the food, and the retreat itself were fabulous!) On one of our hikes, a fellow participant remarked, “Every day you should do something that scares you” (paraphrasing

It’s the most common of clichés: “Inertia is a powerful force.” Mostly we tend to think of it in terms of exercise. Who hasn’t been in a decent groove with a workout routine, only to have it interrupted by vacation or illness or simply too much work? Then we try to get back into the routine, which is absurdly difficult. We vow to ourselves that we will never let it lapse again—but we do, of course. Life happens. I’ve been reflecting on inertia as I realize this is my first bl

I don't know about you, but I often find myself at this time of year—the twilight between Christmas and New Year's—wondering where the year went. More specifically, I find my thoughts turning to what I didn't achieve rather than what I did. Perhaps it's the after-effects of all that sugar, the post-Christmas letdown when everyone has gone home, or the early dark of the evenings. Whatever the cause, there is one remedy: to make an inventory of successes and achievements along

Yesterday afternoon I had a brilliant idea: I called my friend Rebecca to see if she wanted to have a writer’s date at the library. Miraculously, she was available and enthusiastic about the idea. As I write this, we are sharing a large round table tucked into a corner of the Oakton Library. The table is next to a floor-to-ceiling wall of windows that faces the parking lot, and the sun is streaming in, casting bands of shadow onto the table. Rebecca is laser-focused on her iP

This morning when I read the news I was overwhelmed with rage and sorrow. Two more black men—Alton Sterling and Philando Castile—killed by police over minor infractions in the past few days. Five police officers killed by snipers in Dallas at a #BlackLivesMatter protest. Senseless, stupid, bigotry; lethal violence. The worst aspects of our humanity on flagrant display. I wept over it all. I joined Campaign Zero. And then, as writers do, I pulled out my journal. Into its pages

Last Friday I took myself on an artist date, to use the lingo of Julia Cameron. I hadn’t planned on it. I thought I was just going to pop in on a quilt show where a lovely woman from my church, Gertrude Sherman, had three quilts on display. Feeling rushed and oppressed by my to-do list, “get in, admire Gertrude’s quilts, and get out” was my plan. The show was held at the cavernous Dulles Expo Center, where I had previously been to a few home & garden and RV shows. I paid my $

Recently I was discussing the “if money were no object” scenario with a friend, and I remarked, “if money were no object, I would go to a conference, retreat, or training once a month. I love learning and being with my tribe!” It just popped out of my mouth: not world travel, not a life of unadulterated leisure, not a mansion or a personal chef/trainer/housekeeper. Just feeding my brain and my spirit, being inspired and co-creating. I am already living my dream to some degree

It’s always tough to write about family. Well, not the writing part—the publishing part. Feelings can get hurt. Relationships can get damaged. Is it worth it? This was the dilemma I wrestled with recently when Rev. Russell Heiland, senior minister at Unity of Fairfax, invited me to be a guest on his blog. The webmaster who extended the invitation suggested I write in response to this question: “What would you say to someone who asked if you have been saved?” This is language

“A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.” ― Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own A few weeks ago a friend sent me an email that included this thought: "I have been thinking how much easier it would be to take writing seriously as a career if I had to go to an office and “work.” As it is, I always seem to put it behind other things that need to be done, like taxes, or painting the bathroom. I was thinking it would be really cool to have a writ

There’s nothing like a roof leak to show you where the cracks are—in your home and in your life. On a Monday morning a few weeks ago, we discovered water pouring down our family room walls. There had been a big storm the night before, and it was still raining. We rushed to put out buckets and towels, but the damage had already been done. So for the past few weeks I have been dealing with water and mold (yes, mold can form that quickly) remediation, insurance, roofing, and the

The first thing I want to say about Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear is “buy it.” Her advice is honest, authentic, encouraging, insightful, witty, and resourced, for she draws on the wisdom of not only her experience but those of writer friends such as Brené Brown and Ann Patchett, as well as Albert Einstein, Tom Waits, and Werner Herzog, among many others. After reading this book I felt understood, encouraged, inspired, and ready to pursue my writin

Last week I bought Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear. Gilbert is most famous for Eat, Pray, Love, but my favorite is her 2013 novel, The Signature of All Things. I’m about halfway through Big Magic, and so far I am convinced she has written it just for me! I suspect a lot of writers will resonate with her message. I will discuss more in a future post, but I wanted to share the passage below first. In an early chapter called "The Road Trip," Gilbert ac

Last Monday afternoon was the first meeting in 2016 of “Writing from the Heart,” a women’s AWA workshop in Purcellville. I like to start a new session with a “getting to know you” exercise. Sometimes it’s a verbal sharing of what we’re working on or what we like to write, and sometimes it’s a short piece of writing about ourselves. On Monday, I asked everyone to write for 5 minutes in response to this prompt (why don’t you try it, too?) “If I could write anything, it would be

On the cusp of a new year, most of us look ahead with a mixture of excitement and trepidation to what we wish to achieve in the months that follow. If we haven’t yet written our novel or lost 25 pounds or found a new job, we begin to formulate our resolutions to do so. But I find there is something rigid and punitive in the idea of “resolution,” and—as we know all too well—resolutions can be broken, often before the end of January. What if, instead, we adopted a practice? In