Happy Places

I have two happy places in my head.

Oh come on, admit it - we all like to live in our heads more than in reality, right? Well, if you're a writer or a reader this may be true. (Or maybe it's just me...)

When I feel happy, content, and truly alive, it's when my mind is in its happy place. The first happy place is my writing/reading world. The second is my history world.

First, an explanation. Going to my happy place does not mean I retreat from reality or others around me. I don't go into some kind of weird trance and completely ignore my surroundings. Instead, my happy place is more of a mindset.

When I am deeply immersed in writing and in the writing/reading world - reading writing blogs or books or connecting with other writers or readers - I feel content, energetic, motivated, and most of all, at peace. Why? Because I am looking at the world through the lens of this happy place. Life is clearer, sharper. It makes more sense. It's the same when I'm immersed in a history project.

Today I came back from the library with a stack of books that I can't wait to read, and the bliss I felt while walking down the sidewalk (probably a little lopsided since it was a BIG stack), was incredible. All was right with the world. I wanted to go home and write or read (but of course, I couldn't due to the day job) because I wanted to be completely submerged in my art. I wanted to spend the afternoon reading Daphne du Maurier's Jamaica Inn or Susanna Kearsley's The Winter Sea with my cats at my feet. I wanted to write my novel and enjoy the process instead of dreading it.

In short, when I'm in my happy places, anything is possible. I don't think about my shoddy health or the bills that have to be paid or the appointments I have to keep. All that stuff matters, but it doesn't matter a bit when my mind is set on what I love to do.

It's been this way for as long as I can remember. From my first days as a writer, I still have fond memories that conjure up a state of happiness. The same can be said for my love of history. The two loves - history and writing - are so closely entwined that I come to think of them as the same sometimes.

This all boils down to one thing: these happy places represent my passions. I am at home here.

And like they say, there's no place like home.

I Proudly Admit It

Yep. I am a writer. And I am weird.

I have no problem admitting this to the world.

So there.

Being Positive

Why is it so hard to stay positive?

I had another really bad flare up on Monday that kept me home, pretty much bedridden, for most of the day. I didn't go to work the next day, either, thus further diminishing my already dwindling paid leave.

To say that I was frustrated was a tremendous understatement, especially since I had already taken a sick day last week. But such is life.

While discussing all of this with my husband last night, he said, "You have to stay positive. Once you tell your brain, 'I'm done', then it's all over. How do you think people survived the concentration camps or being tortured? They didn't give up."

Point taken.

I'm realizing more and more that we under utilize our brain's capacity to influence our health. A negative outlook on our health surely isn't doing us - or me - any favors. But how do you keep that mindset when you're in agony? How do you stay positive when your joints and body hurt so bad that you can barely move?

I'm searching for answers to this as I do not want to live the rest of my life with a negative attitude about my health.

So I'm asking you, oh wise blog followers, for advice.

How do you stay positive?

One of THOSE Posts...

If you're reasonably healthy, please take a moment to realize just how wonderful a gift that is. Because really, it IS a gift.

I am not reasonably healthy. I maybe have one or two days a week where I feel really good. The other days I may feel decent, but not great. More often than not, I teeter between a good and bad day. I can feel great in the morning and lousy in the afternoon or vice versa.

And then once every few weeks, I get hit with a flare-up of my rheumatoid arthritis, or my headache gets out of control and turns into a migraine, or I wake up with nausea and weak limbs and can barely get out of bed (like this morning), or I am hit with such exhaustion that I can barely keep my eyes open, let alone work.

Let's just say that I never, and I mean never, have any leftover vacation/sick days every year. In fact, I often have to take unpaid leave. I'm incredibly grateful that my company offers sick leave because I'm one of those people who desperately needs it.

Some days, like today, it really gets to me, though. I'm home from work and that just irritates me. Every morning, I gauge how I feel - do I feel good enough to go, or bad enough to stay home? Most of the time, I go because I was raised to 'be tough' and 'work through it.' (That's the Midwestern farm work ethic in me). But when I can't hack it,I feel guilty for staying home, even when I know that there's no way I could make it through 8 hours of work.

I hate to disappoint people. I hate to have other people do my work. I hate that my being gone is an inconvenience to them. I hate how it looks - like I'm a slacker. (For the record, I don't think any of my co-workers think this - they have watched me wrestle with my myriad health problems). But I feel like a slacker when I don't go. So on top of feeling physically lousy, I feel mentally lousy because I beat myself up for missing work. Not exactly the best combination.

I'm working on accepting that I am not a healthy person. I'm learning to deal with my limitations. And I'm trying to be kind to myself.

But it's hard.

I'm usually positive in my posts, but sometimes, I gotta get real - and this is my reality. People who enjoy good health may not understand, but those who don't, will (I hope) understand.

So let me just put it all out there: I'm a chronically ill person. I have several issues (rheumatoid arthritis being the latest). I don't want to tell you how many times a year I go to the doctor. I don't want to show you the huge stacks of doctors' bills. Yes, I have tried to get well. Yes, I have tried alternative and modern approaches. No, I'm not lazy. No, I'm not a hypochondriac. No, it's not all "in my head." It's real and it sucks.

But this is the life I have, and despite all of this, it is a good life. I have so many blessings that I can't possibly count them all. An understanding, loving husband and daughter. Terrific family and friends. My writing. And so, so many more.

That is what I try to focus on, but on some days, like today, I feel the need to vent. Normally I would do this in my personal journal, but my hope today is that I can shed some light on living with chronic illness for those who don't know about it. That's why I'm making this post public. In our hyper-work-saturated culture, where putting in overtime and working ourselves to exhaustion is the expected norm, I have to accept the fact that my body will literally not allow me to do it. It just won't.

And you know what? That's okay. It really is. I just have to convince myself that it's okay. Acceptance sometimes is far harder than dealing with illness itself.

But I'm trying.

And one day, I'll get there.

Centered

It's been a little crazy at my house. My mother is living with us for a few months while she searches for a job. We're happy to have her and help her out. After all, that's what family is for.

But it's been a little hard to write lately. My mom and I have always talked about anything and everything under the sun, and just because she lives with us now does not mean those conversations stop. Heavens no. They have picked up in frequency, and I really enjoy them.

By last night, however, I knew I had to barricade myself in my room and do some writing. Why? Because I felt discombobulated. (That is one of my favorite words.) Out of touch. Restless. Grouchy. My brain screamed at me to write, yet here I was, putting it off, making excuses, and doing anything and everything not to sit down and get the words out.

Finally, though, I managed to get my fingers moving. When I was finished, it was literally like the world had righted itself again. I didn't feel frazzled or edgy. No. I felt centered. Balanced.

I breathed a sigh of relief and dropped off to sleep, happy and content.

How about you? Does your brain have a way of telling you it's time to quit procrastinating and start working?

Tips from Russell Crowe

I've always been a fan of Russell Crowe. He's enormously talented and I love his movies. I happened to see a video on YouTube of him being interviewed for "Inside the Actor's Studio." This was done a few years ago, but something he said about character really struck me, and I realized that it can pertain to writers and our characters, as well.

Here's one nugget of gold: "Serve the character, not yourself." In other words, take yourself out of the equation. In your novel/short story/etc., have your character do what your character would do - not what YOU would do in that particular situation.

Here's another really good piece of advice:

"You fall in love with your character, you miss out on the opportunity of showing up their faults. Be objective about the character - it's those faults that make that person an individual...make he or she a human being."

Bingo. In acting as well as in writing, our characters need to be fully human. Don't fall in love with them and overlook their faults. Your character will come out as one-dimensional and unbelievable.

I love the parallels between creative worlds - acting, painting, writing, photography, etc. There's so much knowledge to be gained from taking a glimpse into a creative career that is not your own.

Randomness Post #7,921

Okay. I really haven't done 7,921 randomness posts, but it feels like I've been doing about 7,921 different things lately that are just really random. Lucky you. You get to share in that randomness again today.

1) I have had a sinus headache/infection/want-to-chop-off-my-head pain for the past three weeks. The doctor thought I had an infection and gave me some antibiotics plus a prescription of Prednisone. I do not like steroids because of their weight-gaining side effects. I have enough trouble in that department, thank you very much, and I am attempting to get rid of the stupid infection by just using the antibiotics.

2) Which brings to mind another point that really irritated me about the doctor's office. I told her I was on methotrexate for my rheumatoid arthritis. Since my rheumatologist did not want to put me on Prednisone, I called him when I got home and told him about it. They said NOT to take my regular dose of methotrexate this week if I was going to take the Prednisone. WHY didn't my regular doctor tell me this? I would have been double-dosing myself with imuno-suppressants! Grrrr. This, dear friends, is why you must ALWAYS be pro-active with your health.

3) Speaking of health, I have dropped some weight due to my new eating plan. It's actually pretty easy - I don't have to eat any special foods or anything like that. I went to see a nutritionist and she has me on 140 carbs max a day. Each meal has to be balanced with a serving of grain, protein, fruit, veggies, and milk. Portion sizes are a must. It's pretty basic nutrition and it is working. I pack my lunch every day and I'm already back in a pair of jeans I haven't been able to wear for two years.

4) Tonight's fun activity will be a home viewing of Skyfall, the latest James Bond film. We went to see it in the theater and as I am a huge James Bond fan (and Daniel Craig fan), I bought the DVD when it came out this week. If you haven't seen it yet, I highly recommend it.

5) We're about to have a big change at my house. My mother is going to be staying with us while she searches for a job. It's going to be fun and challenging and interesting. However, the key to all this is communication - frequent, honest, and open - and lots of prayer. That's the only way to make this work.

And I think I need to follow this mantra, too.  Wise Yoda was, yes!

6) I'm trying to finish my novel and have been attempting to write every night. I hope to get more done this weekend.

7) My daughter has a huge crush on the bass guitar player for the rock band, Shinedown. We are going to see them in concert in March. My daughter drew a picture of him and wanted to Tweet it to him. Since I gave up Twitter two months ago, I set up another account just so I could send that Tweet to him. Though I hope I don't get sucked into yet another social media website, it was totally worth it just to see her excitement over the possibility that her idol was going to see her drawing.

8) I'm not blogging very much lately. I think this is because a) I don't have much to say; b) I'm too busy with other social media stuff like Pinterest and Facebook. The blog has suffered as a result. Sorry.

9) For Valentine's Day, my husband asked me if I wanted flowers or dinner. I said dinner (because I very rarely eat out anymore due to my new eating habits). Yesterday, though, he surprised me by dedicating a song to me on Facebook. Since my hubby is quite the typical tough guy, this touched me much more than a bouquet of roses. I love being married to my best friend.

10) The weather can't decide what to do around here. Some days, we hit 52 degrees and only need a jacket. Then the next day, it plunges back into the 20s and snows. I am oddly looking forward to spring already.

11) Going to the library and picking out new books to read still gives me a thrill after all these years. I'm headed there over my lunch break and can't wait. I hope the thrill never goes away.

12)  It's Friday. Hurrah!

An Announcement

Sometimes, life works in ways you don't expect.

Let me tell you a story.

Early in January, I was surfing the 'Net and looking for potential freelance jobs. I visited the website of The History Press, a book publisher specializing in local and regional history. I'd had my eye on them for some time and was impressed with their dedication to publishing history books that university presses and big publishers missed.

On a whim, I sent them my resume and asked if they had any freelance opportunities available. I mentioned that I had focused on local history with my master's thesis on the German POW camp at Fort Robinson, Nebraska, during World War II.

Within ten minutes, I had a return email. I started reading, and my heart stopped.

It was from an acquiring editor.

"Would you be interested," she said, "in sending a book proposal on the German POW camp at Fort Robinson?"

Here is where life is interesting in more ways than one. I have long thought I needed to write the book on this camp. I did most of the research for my thesis and just needed to compile it for a book. But I kept putting it off. Now, however, I was being asked to write a book proposal on it for possible publication.

I didn't hesitate when I said I'd love to submit a proposal, and I worked on it that weekend, submitting it on a Sunday night.

The editor loved it. She told me she would submit it to the editorial board during their weekly meeting.

So I waited.

Then the phone call came.

"Well, it's not a yes, but it's not a no, either," she said. "They want to know if you can incorporate all of the major camps of Nebraska so that we can market to the entire state. Would that be possible?"

Instead of just a marketing to a small corner of northwest Nebraska, my book could reach far more people across the state. This meant more work on my end, but I didn't care. This was a golden opportunity. "I can definitely do that," I said.

She said she would call me back with their decision. Thirty minutes later, the phone rang.

"They accepted it!" she said. "Congratulations!"

That, my friends, was a good day.

I am now happy to announce that I have a book deal for a non-fiction book on the history of the Nebraska POW Camps during World War II. It will be published in mid 2014.

Finally, that master's degree in history is paying off.

I do believe that maybe I'll crack a smile the next time I pay my monthly student loan... =D

Why Choosing the Correct Word Is Important

Make sure you use the right word!

Staying Power

I was digging through my closet the other night, trying to find a file that I need for an upcoming project. To my delight, I came across some files that I hadn't looked at in years (though I never did find the one I actually need). One file was full of my early writing projects, and I quite literally had forgotten all about them.

I have been writing stories for a very long time. That's practically all I did in junior high and high school, and I loved being able to use the stories I wrote for school assignments. When I pulled out the following story, though, I started laughing:

I used to read a lot of romance novels during that time. When I say a lot, I mean that was practically all I read. In retrospect, this was not very good for a shy teenage girl to do since it gave me a rather distorted notion of what a real relationship is like - i.e. not every good man is going to be drop-dead gorgeous with bulging biceps and treat you like a queen - but at the time, I was in love with love.

I submitted this short story, Forever Yours, to my freshman English teacher. I got an A+. Do you recognize the picture? It 's from a television show called Paradise that used to be on CBS in the late 1980s. The main character was a gunfighter-turned-father who had to take care of his sister's orphaned children. His love interest was the local banker, a woman as feisty as she was smart. It was one of my favorite shows probably more for the rocky romance between these two than the gunslingers that used to wander through town.

My story was, naturally, a romance, and the hero was - you guessed it - a former gunslinger on the run, which is why this picture worked so perfectly. In my story, he rescues the damsel in distress, a woman taking a trip on her own to Nebraska to find her father, and the two fall in love.

Corny, yes. But oh, how I loved writing it.

God had a plan for me to find this the other night. Why? Because recently, the Self-Doubt Demon has been sticking its horns into me. I didn't think I could write fiction any more. I've been so focused on my non-fiction projects that downshifting to fiction is a challenge these days and I've been wondering ridiculous things. Do I still have what it takes? Why aren't the words flowing so well anymore? Should I stop? 

Yet fiction remains my passion. When I think about writing my stories, when I dream of my characters and their struggles and conflicts, my spirit lightens and I can't wait to dive back into that world again.

So when I found this treasure trove of memories - finished short stories, snippets of ideas for novels, research, etc. - I realized how I could never walk away from this writing gig. It's been a part of me for so long that I honestly do not know what I'd do or how I'd function without it.

Sure, it's hard sometimes. Sure, the Self-Doubt Demon needs slaying every once in awhile. But it's all worth it.

I actually think it's pretty darn awesome that I am still so in love with something I discovered in the sixth grade.

That's staying power.

That's passion.

And that's why I'll never give it up.

Chaos and Creativity

For some of us, being creative means being messy. When I take on a project, whether big or small, I inevitably make a mess wherever I happen to be working. I thought having an office dedicated to my writing would help me keep the clutter to one room, but I don't always feel like working in my office. Sometimes, I'll write in bed. Other times, like this past week, I set up shop in my living room because it's just too cold in my office upstairs.

And the clutter has followed me.

Exhibit A:

Why I can work surrounded by all this clutter mystifies me. I don't even notice the mess.

Inevitably, though, I will notice and get tired of it. That's when the cleaning spree happens. I sort paperwork, put books back on the shelf, vacuum, etc., etc..

But the mess always returns despite my best efforts to keep it at bay.

I think I've made my peace with it because this poster says it all:

Thank goodness!

Can you work in clutter or are you just the opposite?