Workaholic, Schmerkaholic...(Vacation's are OK.)

With tears coursing from my cheeks to my keyboard pad, I finished my novel on the 16the day of the 6th month at 9:36am. Seeing as 3's my lucky number--and what better judge of success and possiblitiy is that?! ;)--I'm stoked on multiple levels. I'm now in the polishing/final touches stage, in eager anticipation of meetings with several agents in September. (Cross your fingers and toes, 3 times!)

I've since been enjoying a rather European-style summer, in which I work less and play, rest and travel more, without beating myself up (very often) for my "laziness" (which I don't rationally believe in). Granted, my rendition of "play" often involves writing...and working less still lands me at a reasonably hefty schedule. I am, however, starting to see the value in the Euro-way. When I lived in Paris, I grew tired of people asking me where I'd planned to go "for holiday." Christmas is months away, I kept thinking. It took me a while to catch on... Once I did, I loathed the idea of taking a month or so off work to do, in my opinion, nothing.

Having spent time with my family in Minnesota--relishing my beautiful sister's wedding--and in North Carolina for the 4th of July, I'm finding that respite effects my writing like much-needed "mental health days" home from school. According to a National Sleep Foundation study, the average American employee works 46 hours per week and 38% of Americans work more than 50 hours per week--factors linked with sleep problems, reduced lifespan, yadda yadda... I imagine self-employed/independent contractor types (present company, for example) work even more. Since pursuing work one enjoys improves longevity, I figure I've cancelled my heightened risk factors out...er, I hope. If not, I'll rely upon my European-style summers, which may last days, or weeks or more, and which I may opt to cancel at anytime.

Cinderella

A diversion from my "usual" writing-fare, but one that's near to my heart... My first music video, directed by my uber-talented friend, Scott David Martin, and starring Hannah Sullivan. Here's to all the "Cinderella's" out there! May all of your dreams come true...

If Dogs Were Editors...

...man, would we feel loved. My editor is more like Simon Cowell. But every now and again--okay, often--I read aloud to my beloved (did I mention deaf?) bull dog, Zoe. She may be slightly less literate than my Cowell-esque editor, but she sure does listen well (with her heart) and praise me as I walk through the door with my manuscript (with a number she calls, "squirmy-dance-with-wiggling-tail"). Though she occasionally snores mid-listen, she never leaves me feeling unworthy, unloved or "pedestrian" (my favorite feedback term I've heard applied to writers...). Granted, thumbs-up from my editor means a great deal and I find myself perpetually on my toes. I dig him, I should add, he's tres cool; but nothing beats a furry friend writing companion. (I'll address the bird another time...)



No matter who we are, what we do or what echelon of success we meet, life would rather stink without the unconditional support of loved ones...

Do We/Dreams Grow Up?

Strolling through the Assamese mountains in Northern India, crooning my latest spiritual-funk hits over radio waves and hosting a English/Hindi talk show with my BFF Jill...That's what the 5-year-old me dreamed of becoming when I grew up. I also considered mountain climbing, after watching "The Sound of Music," none too coincidentally. When I realized that climbers don't actually sing in fields with outstretched arms, and must wear atrociously ugly shoes, I moved on.

As a child, according to "Slate Magazine," author Amy Bloom aspired to become an "inspiring, heroic boy." Writer, Jane Smiley dreamed of becoming a nuclear physicist, and author, Vivian Gornick, hoped to evolve into a prince. I'm not surprised that these talented, accomplished writers held dreams that involved inspiration, imagination and even the impossible. (In the world of writing, impossibility fails to exist--unless as a significant plot point, of course. ;))

My parents sent me a box of childhood keepsakes recently, chock-full of mysteries I composed during grade school...(the "Mysterious Pizza Tree," and the "Mystery of the Big-Headed Man," for example.) They reminded me that most of my meanderings about my future pursuits took place in journal form, or between chapters of Mary Higgins Clark, Stephen King and Baby Sitters Club mysteries. My nose was perpetually glued to books. Perhaps whatever it is we dream of becoming as children remains our dream throughout our lives. We may stray from it and it may take various forms, but I suspect the heart of it never changes.

Agree? Disagree? I'd love to hear your thoughts...

(The below photo is a snapshot from a recent photo shoot I did for Dolly Couture. Like I said, dreams seldom change...)

Reject me!

When I first decided to pursue a writing career I attended a seminar on book publishing. The speaker (a successful literary agent) stood before the sea of hope-drenched faces with visions of book deals dancing above our heads, and said the "chances of getting a manuscript read by an editor or agent is about 5 in 100. Of that 5-percent, a few are published." Hope-bubbles popped around me and a few tall-postured front-row-seaters slouched in dismay. I, on the other hand, lit up like a Christmas tree. Those stats sounded terrific after a decade-plus as a model/actress! ;) If I could survive and thrive all of that, I figured publishing would be pie... (Yum.)

The book deal isn't why I write. But I do believe that persistence plus passion plus hard work pays off--for writers that often (yes, often) results in published books and paychecks. To that end, I embrace opportunities for rejection letters. ("Reject me, so I'm one 'NO' closer...!") Today I picked up a book at my favorite used book store entitled, "Rotten Rejections: A Literary Companion." HA HA HA! Even the title cheers me. *sigh*

A few worth sharing:

"We are willing to return the manuscript for the same (advance) as we paid for it."
(Given to Jane Austen in 1818...)

"...the American public is not interested in anything on China."
(Given to Pearl Buck, in response to The Good Earth, in 1931...)

"We found the heroine as boring as her husband had."
(Given to Mary Higgins Clark in response to "Journey Back to Love" in 1962...)

"The girl doesn't, it seems to me, have a special perception or feeling which would lift a book above the "curiosity" level."
(Given to Anne Frank in response to The Diary of Anne Frank, in 1952...)

In short: don't give up and keep on laughing. Worst case your rejection note may end up in a quaint, fun little book.

Happiness...& American Idol

Okay, I admit it. I'm an Idol-worshiper. KIDDING--watcher. ;) Granted, this season isn't as Adam-Lambert-thrilling as last year. Even so, I find myself lured to the tube Tuesday and Wednesday nights, eager to discover whether Lee has grown another echelon in confidence or if Crystal has let her dreds down. Happy to say they've been my favorites from the beginning. What I love most about Lee and Crystal is their evident joy and passion for singing. They've both been known to shed tears and I swear Lee has a perma-grin hiding under his subtly smiling lips.



Last night I read, "Happiness: Unlocking the Mysteries of Psychological Wealth," by Ed Diener and Robert Biswas-Diener. (Sounds hype-y, but it's not.) It's chock-full of extensive research findings pertaining to happiness. In a section about job-related happiness, the authors speak of working "in the zone." They compare happy workers to runners who lose themselves in blissful hyper-focus. (Hmm...never quite had that while running...)People who love their jobs/work/careers lose track of the time, wish they had endless hours to partake in it, and not due to harsh deadlines, mean bosses or financial gain.

I think most Idol fans are drawn to the bliss the up-and-comers find and reveal on stage. I've certainly felt similar passion while singing or performing a particular song...but I don't wish do any of it all day. My writing, however...alternate stories (ha, pun) altogether.

I'm wishing "the idols" the best tonight and a fond farewell to Simon (who gave a great interview on Oprah, by the way...). I plan to step out of my writing zone to watch the finale tonight. May we all find our zones and frolic happily about in them, without time clocks, calendars or ceilings to hold us back.

For love or money...?

I went to a book reading by Jennifer Lee Carrell at Vroman's last night. She's a fantastic thriller and historical fiction writer--her most recent novel, Haunt Me Still, a combination of both. She's as fascinating a speaker as her books are can't-put-'em-down-ers. Haunt Me Still is a modern-day thriller about an American theater director who gets wrapped up in the Bard's witch-hunted Shakespearian play, MacBeth, in London. (Carrell did inform me that typing/reading/writing the word does not beckon dark magic...whew!)

As she spoke of her writing process and journey as a successful writer (her pre-quel to Haunt Me Still, Interred With Their Bones, is an international best-seller) she said she always dreamed of becoming a writer, but figured there was "no money in it." She became a teacher instead. I heard Stephenie Meyer (author of Twilight) say almost the precise same thing during an Oprah interview.

In both of these ladies' cases, it seems that "love" eventually won out. Is this to say that one's destined path will eventually come into fruition if they remain open to it? Or that some people take longer to connect with their true passion than others? The whole love or money question always baffles me to an extent, likely due to my up-bringing. My parents raised my siblings and me to follow our hearts and pursue what we love. Prime example--my brother was on the path of becoming a doctor when he dropped it for art. My parents essentially said, "Yee-ha...Go for it!" He did and he's uber-successful. (Check www.aaronjohnsonart.com.)

My own path has been windy to say the least. When I told my mother I applied for a street singer's permit in Santa Monica she sent me a box of "hippie clothes" and a plaque that reads: "The most beautiful music comes from the heart." Since I've become a full-time writer, she and my dad periodically send books, book reviews from the local MN newspaper and stories I wrote as a child. (If that ain't love, I don't know what is...) When I modeled full-time, I made money at it. Same with acting, same with writing. Granted, I had periods of the proverbial "feast or famine," but for the most part, I've stayed afloat each time I've pursued my passion. (Similarly, I was flat-broke/living on Top Raman during a time I was lost for passion. Apathy is a potentially disease, in my opinion...)

I don't disrespect money as a motivation. I suppose I just don't understand it. I do agree that one must have money and that it plays an important role in life. It just seems to me that it carries more weight in people's lives than is helpful or necessary. I believe our world would hold less pain, anger, frustration, disappointment and cruelty if we lived lives based upon joy and fulfilment rather than climbing a particular status ladder or keeping up with the Joneses. Now is probably the most difficult time in recent years for Americans to pursue their passions, during the financial crisis, but perhaps it's also the most important.

I'd love to hear your thoughts...answers to the cliche but significant question: For love or money?