May 15, 2013
by Kate
15 Comments

motherhood, motherhood, haiku

Happy late Mother’s Day, my friends. I meant to write a post on Sunday. I *thought* about posting. I even *planned* my post. But then I fell asleep on the couch.

It was a much needed nap after an exciting (but very busy) previous week, which was full of readings in celebration of mothers’ stories. Both the Motherhood & Words reading and the first Twin Cities Listen To Your Mother event were huge successes. No one who attended either reading could deny (not that they’d want to) the power inherent in writing and telling our stories, or the incredible high you get from supporting other who are doing the same.

I’m grateful to have had the fabulous Caroline Grant and Katrina Kenison fly across the country for the Motherhood & Words reading. Thank you, Katrina and Caroline! What grace and poise and talent these two women possess. What an honor to share a podium with them.

 

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And then last Thursday, I was thrilled to be a part of the inaugural Twin Cities Listen To Your Mother show at the Riverview Theater in Minneapolis. Holy kit-kats, people. There was a crowd of almost 500 people! I laughed, I cried, I got chills. My fellow readers blew me away.

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(Photo by the wonderful Jen of Jennifer Liv Photography.)

 

Of course you know that I’m not about to stop celebrating your mother stories just because Mother’s Day has passed. No, no, no. I’m just getting started. It’s time once again, my friends, for the annual Motherhood & Words Haiku contest.

For those of you who are new to Motherhood & Words, a little background: I launched the contest in 2008, when Zoë was just a couple of months old and I developed a raging case of mastitis. D was traveling, so I was on my own, juggling an infant and a four-year-old. It wasn’t pretty, people. And in fact, it was such a traumatic experience that I felt I needed to honor it in some way.

What better way to do that than with a haiku?

Thus the annual Motherhood & Words haiku contest was born. You can read the 2008 entries here and the winners here.

Since then, we have celebrated toddler haiku, “what no one told me” haiku, “what surprised me about motherhood” haiku, and “something my child said to me” haiku. This year, the topic is—wait for it…wait for it…

a moment you won’t forget.

It could be a motherhood moment that you cherish, that made you collapse with laughter, or that shattered you with grief. Think small frame, detail.

I’m honored that the fabulously talented Jill Christman has agreed to be the judge of this year’s contest.

Remember: three lines – 5 syllables, 7 syllables, 5 syllables. Please put your entry in the comments below. The deadline is Monday, May 27th!

Don’t be scared. Haiku!!

May 2, 2013
by Kate
17 Comments

I had him at chicken cacciatore

It was June, 1998. D and I had just started dating, but it felt like it might turn into something serious. He was playing for the Minnesota Thunder professional soccer team at the time, and was traveling a lot, but between trips, I invited him over to my tiny studio apartment for dinner.

At this point in my life I had been working in restaurants for several years, and I loved good food. I spent most of my disposable income on meals that I couldn’t really afford, and Saveur and Bon Appetit magazines lined the shelf in my kitchen. When the a new issue arrived in my mailbox, I devoured it, marking every recipe that caught my eye with a sticky note.

That night, I made chicken cacciatore, and D and I sat across from each other in my bedroom/living room, eating with my low coffee table between us. We each took one bite and then another, and then I waited to see what he would say.  Finally, he looked up at me and smiled so wide that his dimples made their dents in his darkly tanned cheeks. “This is so delicious,” he said in a swoony kind of way. And I smiled right back at him, full of pride.

In the introduction to The Cassoulet Saved Our Marriage, editors Caroline M. Grant and Lisa Catherine Harper write, “…cooking for and eating with those we love most remain some of the best ways we celebrate them.” That was exactly what I was doing for D when I made him that first meal: celebrating him, the possibility of us.

Cassoulet is chocked full of wonderful essays about how we use food to celebrate our families and honor tradition, but also how we create our own traditions with food. In “Lobster Lessons,” Aleksandra Crapanzano describes how she woos her boyfriend’s great-aunt Margaret away from her regimen of bland, overcooked food to dishes that have Margaret hoarding savory recipes until the following summer, when she’ll see Crapanzano again. In “Rachel Ray Saved My Life,” Melissa Clark undergoes a transformation from someone who doesn’t cook even at her own dinner parties to someone who creates a Mother’s Day spread that dazzles her foodie mom. (And made me cry a little.)

But Cassoulet also contains essays about contentious relationships with food. I loved Elrena Evans’ essay about navigating the complicated terrain of food and body image. When Evan’s toddler stops eating, “fails to thrive,” Evan’s own history of eating disorders rises to the surface, and she vows to take her daughter’s developing issues with food day-by-day, baby step-by-baby step.

This book is a perfect gift for anyone who eats or cooks (everyone!) And it’s a perfect way to pause during a hectic day and be reminded of what’s really important in life: family, food, health.

That summer of 1998 when D and I began dating was filled with evenings at a small table at what still is one of our favorite restaurants. We held hands and sipped bottles of smoky wine, our spoons clanking as we fought over the last bite of crème brule. The following November, we moved in together, and by December we were engaged.

It was bound to happen fast. I had him at chicken cacciatore.

 

You can come meet Caroline Grant, co-editor of Cassoulet, on Saturday—this Saturday!!—at the Loft Literary Center, where she will be reading with Katrina Kenison and me at the 7th Annual Motherhood & Words Reading!

 

Where: Open Book, 1011 Washing Avenue South, Minneapolis

When: Saturday 5/4 7 pm

 

It’s free! And of course there will be lots of yummy food and wine. Bring your friends.

And if you’d like to be entered to win a copy of The Cassoulet Saved Our Marriage, leave a comment below by Monday, May 13th describing an experience with food and family that has stayed with you.

 

 

 

 

April 22, 2013
by Kate
2 Comments

spring flurry

I’ve been MIA here for the last couple of weeks, and I’m sorry about that. Stella, Zoë, and I were all sick—laid out!—a couple of weeks ago, and then I was traveling. Then last week I was trying to catch up from the sickness and travel.

Two weekends ago I was in Denver to lead a workshop at the Writers Studio Literary Festival at Arapahoe Community College, which is a wonderful event. Check it out next year if you are nearby. The students were fabulous, talented, brave. And Kathryn Winograd, who coordinates it, is a superstar.

On Saturday after the workshop, I headed up to Boulder to spend time with my dear friend, Emily, who I’ve known since 2nd grade. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since we last saw each other; as soon as we’re together it’s as if no time has passed. I love that kind of friendship. So much history.

On Sunday, Emily hosted a book reception for me at her house, and I got to meet many of her Boulder friends and hear a little of their lives. We talked writing and motherhood, both the gorgeous and the hard stuff. We laughed a ton.

And now that I’m back, I feel like I’m living in a time-accelerated movie. Too much to do to get ready for upcoming readings and panels, not to mention teaching and editing. All exciting things, but add my development job and family and exercise, and well, it’s a lot. So I’m trying to practice deep breaths and hoping for my new prescription glasses to arrive soon, so I don’t get a headache every time I sit down at my computer.

I’d love to see you at one of these readings in May:

7th Annual Motherhood & Words Reading – Saturday, May 4, 7 pm at the Loft Literary Center, Open Book, Minneapolis. I’ll be joined this year by Katrina Kenison and Caroline Grant. It’s going to be a wonderful evening, so please come if you can. Free and open to the public. Wine reception to follow the reading and Q & A.

Listen To Your Mother – Twin Cities – Thursday, May 9, 7 pm at the Riverview Theater in Minneapolis. This is going to be so much fun. There are 14 of us reading (3-5 minutes each), and I can tell you how fabulous the pieces are. We had our first rehearsal on Saturday and we laughed, cried, laughed again. And the special guest for the event is the wonderful Lorna Landvik. You can learn more and get your tickets here.

Join me if you can!

April 4, 2013
by Kate
8 Comments

whoop!

Great news! I’m thrilled to announce that Use Your Words is Pregnancy & Newborn magazine’s book club pick for April. Whoop! You can read my interview with them here.

Also, Pregnancy & Newborn just launched its first Motherhood Essay contest. This is where you come in, my friends. The winner will receive $300, and two runners up win $100, and all three of the top picks will be published in the magazine! Check out the guidelines here! ) Submit! Submit!!

March 21, 2013
by Kate
28 Comments

it’s good for everyone

I don’t usually post about self-help books. In fact, I’m sure I never have. And that’s because I don’t usually read them. But when I was contacted by a publicist at New World Library about Renée Peterson Trudeau’s new book Nurturing the Soul of Your Family, I said yes, send me a copy.

In some ways I feel like I’m in a new stage of life – both professionally and as a mother. Professionally I know what I want to do: lead more workshops and retreats, work more closely with writers, increase my editing load. I’m poised to take that leap, and I’m just trying to be patient and wait things out until I can manage it. I’m keeping myself open to opportunities that will help me move in the direction I want.

Similarly in my role as a parent, I finally feel as though I can step back and take stock. The girls are now nine and a half and five. They are largely self-sufficient. Of course they still need me, but it’s different than that desperate, clinging kind of neediness of very small children. They are people. I like them. And I want to make the most of our relationship. I want to enjoy the time we have together instead of hurriedly dragging them from one thing to the next. That’s why I said yes to Trudeau’s book.

The book is made up of five sections that will help readers to honor themselves and their families through reconnecting with what’s really important in their lives. The chapter that resonated with me most was the one on self-care. I know how challenging it can be to take time to renew when you have kids and are working and juggling a hundred things. But as I always tell my students, taking that time to sit by yourself with a cup of tea (or glass of wine) and write your truth can make such a huge impact on your life.

A couple of weekends ago, I was in Boston for the AWP Conference. As always, it was a weekend filled with interesting panels and wonderful conversations with writer friends I don’t see often enough. It’s exhausting, of course—how could it not be with 11,000 people milling about?—but it always energizes me and gets me excited to dive back into my own work. Usually, I leave the conference a little early in order to get back home. This year, I arrived late instead, so I had all day Sunday to myself: no conference obligations at all.

I got up early that day and went for a run along the Charles River, which was lovely. I didn’t have a timeline or any plan, so I just ran and breathed and let my thoughts unfurl the way they do when I run far enough. (I was determined not to give myself away as a Midwesterner so I refrained from greeting passing runners with my typical, smiling “morning!” and head nod. I think it worked.)

After my run, I packed up my things and then wound my way through Boston streets to The Museum of Fine Arts, where Cézanne’s The Large Bathers was on display. I happened to get there just as an art historian was talking about the painting, which was fascinating.

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Then one of my lovely students (whom I’d never met in person) picked me up, and we spent the afternoon together, walking through the Cambridge Cemetery, talking, enjoying a late lunch together before she took me to the airport, where I sipped a glass of wine and read my friend Amy Shearn’s wonderful new novel, The Mermaid of Brooklyn. It was a perfect day—all about self-care.

And when I got home, I was delighted to spend as much time as possible with my girls and D. I felt renewed, and because I had taken care of myself, I was ready to take care of my family. This is one of the points that Trudeau makes so well in her book. When you really begin to take care of yourself and give yourself the space to think and be, you are, she writes, “wiser and more effective in all areas of your life…”

Each chapter of Nurturing the Soul of Your Family ends with exercises for readers to try. While I didn’t feel I needed to work through the book in that way, I know these prompts will be helpful to many readers.

I’d love to hear how you create space in your life to nurture yourself. Is it writing? Exercising? Please leave a comment below by April 3rd for your chance to win a copy of Nurturing the Soul of Your Family. 

March 15, 2013
by Kate
27 Comments

magical journey

I was first introduced to Katrina Kenison through her anthology, Motherhood: Twenty Stories of Contemporary Motherhood, which I discovered when I was prepping for my very first Motherhood & Words class, seven years ago. I have been a fan of Katrina’s work ever since.

Perhaps you’re familiar with her wonderful books Mitten Strings for God: Reflections for Mothers in a Hurry and A Gift of an Ordinary Day: A Mother’s Memoir. Perhaps you read her blog (one of my favorites). If you don’t know Katrina’s work, I’m going to change that today. I’m honored to have Katrina here at Motherhood & Words to discuss her wonderful new memoir, Magical Journey: An Apprenticeship in Contentment.

Magical Journey is a lovely memoir about loss, love, and compassion. Kenison reflects on the inevitable changes wrought by time: the death of a dear friend, children leaving home, recognition of her own physical vulnerability, and surprising shifts in her marriage. But the book is also a call to action: love, embrace gratitude, be open to change. That is the part of the book that I appreciate most. I know I’ll come back to it again and again.

Thank you for being here, Katrina!

KH:  One of the narrative threads I love in Magical Journey has to do with writing. You say, “I’m coming to believe that there is room in the world for all our stories, not only the heroic narratives of extraordinary people who inspire us with their accomplishments, but also simple stories of ordinary struggles.” I love that. Can you talk a little about how your process as a writer and your understanding of the importance of stories worked its way into the narrative?

KK:  Not long ago, my son Jack said to me, “Think of all those people who have amazing things happen to them, but who aren’t writers.  And so all those incredible stories never get told.”  We pondered that for a while.  And then he said, “And then there’s you, Mom.  You don’t do anything.  Nothing happens to you, and you write about your life, and people read it.”

It made me laugh of course, but I’ve thought about this a lot.  What matters, really, is not that the story itself is extraordinary but that the voice telling it is strong and clear and committed to sharing a unique experience of being alive.  Everyone has a story worth hearing, but there is an art and a practice to the telling.  Writing is hard work.  It takes time and craft and an extraordinary willingness to be alone with ourselves and grapple with the challenge of translating inner states of mind into words that come alive on the page.  My process isn’t pretty.  I am very slow, I do a lot of hand-wringing.  I sit in one place for eight or ten hours at a time, and I end up with a paragraph or two.  I worry sometimes that Jack is right, that nothing happens.  And then, if I hang in there long enough and bring every bit of attention I have to bear on the work of finding the right words, I discover that I can tell a story about sitting still.

 

KH:  How was writing Magical Journey different than or similar to writing your other books?

KK:  I took risks in Magical Journey I wouldn’t have dared take before. In part, that’s because I’ve discovered I can trust my readers to go with me into some dark places, and that in being willing to be vulnerable, and even a little exposed, I clear a space for others to be vulnerable, too. When I bring my own self-doubt into the light and onto the page, it loses some of its grip on me.  So, I wrote this book as if no one would read it.  And then, when the manuscript was done, I took a deep breath and decided that if what I’d written could help anyone else feel less alone, it would be worth sharing it.

 

KH:  Your practice of yoga is an important part of your life and an important narrative thread in Magical Journey. Can you describe the ways that writing and yoga work together in your life and affect your writing and/or writing process?

KK:  They’ve become intertwined.  So much of yoga is about showing up on your mat, day after day, and working with what you find there – this body, these feelings, this pain in the knee, those unbidden memories.  We learn to be with what is, without judgment.  And we learn to stay.  Well, welcome to the life of a writer.  Yoga has helped me silence my inner critic.  I can sit down to write with the goal of writing, rather than the goal of perfection, which is liberating.  And I know, firsthand, the benefits of showing up, sitting down, being disciplined in my practice

 

KH:  Was there anything—either in terms of what emerged or the process of writing this memoir—that surprised you?

KK:  It is all a surprise.  I began to write with lots of questions.  “Who am I now that I’m not a 24/7 mom anymore?” And, “How can I make peace with the fact that nothing lasts?” And, of course, the big one, “What next?”  I had no idea “what next.”  Nor did I know when I began where I would end up.  The writing was the journey.  It wasn’t a journey that required a plane ticket; it was a journey that led me, day by day and over the course of a long, difficult year, to a deeper place within myself.  Emerging, finding myself coming to the end, I realized I’d written my way into a new place – a place of greater faith and acceptance, of gratitude and, yes, contentment.

 

KH:  All memoirists must decide how to approach writing about family and friends, and I’m wondering if you can talk a little about what it’s like to write and publish writing about your husband and sons and your dear friends. How do you balance your need to create as a writer with others’ need for privacy?

KK:  It is definitely a fine line.  I think, in fact, that I’m done with memoir for a while. I’ve subjected my family to enough of it.  And I’ve learned that even with the highest and best intentions on my part, it is still treacherous territory, writing about our loved ones, especially in instances where names can’t be changed. Relationships are more important than books, and I’ve made changes in my work, simply to offer a bit more distance and comfort to those I care about.

 

KH:  What was the most challenging part of writing this book? 

KK:  Trying to tell a story in which, as my son points out, not much happens.  It really is memoir of the inner life, and not only that, it’s the inner life at a stage that is considered the opposite of “sexy”: midlife and menopause, a time we think of as the end of youth, of ambition, of intense experience.  What I wanted to express was that inside us matronly, wrinkled, often invisible women, there is a lot going on.  As we age, the inner life continues to be just as intense and as confusing and as passionate as it ever was.

Other than the month I spent doing yoga teacher training at Kripalu, I didn’t go anywhere or do much, so I also faced the challenge of creating a narrative structure around very small, ordinary events – cleaning a room, spending a couple of nights with a friend, taking a walk on the beach.  Not the stuff of high drama, and yet as worthy of notice and writerly care as any exalted moment.  In fact, these ARE the exalted moments, if we are truly present in our lives and paying attention.

 

KH:  Now that Magical Journey is out in the world, how does it feel to see this part of your life in print and have people react to your experiences? What are some of the responses you are getting?

KK:  The response has been amazing.  Most gratifying of all has been the outpouring from women who say, “You write what is in my heart.”  I’m deeply moved to hear I’ve given voice to some of the feelings that can seem very isolating and lonely, but that are in fact universal, just not much discussed.

The truth is, no one gets to the middle of life without experiencing heartache of some kind – death, divorce, illness, endings.  We’ve all lost someone.  All our children grow up and leave home, at least we hope they do. We’ve all spent too much money on wrinkle creams and been disappointed by the results.  We’ve all wondered if our best days are behind us, and if we have what it takes to create something new in our lives.  We all yearn to live more fully, more gratefully, with more grace and love and self-assurance.  And most days, we fall short.  My decision to put this simple truth out there by telling my own story seems to have stuck a deep chord. I am getting a lot of letters, not only from mothers and not only from women in their fifties, but from women of all ages and all walks of life.  There is much to be said for sharing our innermost struggles – suddenly, brought out into the light of day, they seem so much more manageable.

~~~

Thank you so much for taking the time to answer my questions, Katrina! I’m thrilled to announce that Katrina will be reading on Saturday, May 4th in Minneapolis at the Loft Literary Center as part of the 7th Annual Motherhood & Words Reading! Please mark your calendars and join us if you’re in town.

If you are interested in a winning a copy of Magical Journey, please leave a comment below by Wednesday, March 27th.  I’d love to hear your reactions to Katrina’s thoughts about writing.

March 13, 2013
by Kate
6 Comments

life/death

Today I am celebrating the birthday of my twin nieces. One year ago today, they were born full term, to our great relief. Even from the outside, the pregnancy was a stressful one. My sister experienced bleeding so intense that she thought she was miscarrying on more than one occasion. And I knew too much about the risks of prematurity with multiples and the effects of being born too soon. But she didn’t deliver early. The babies didn’t need to spend months in the NICU. And now we have these two delightful baby girls in our lives, and I’m so grateful for them.

But as so often happens in life, my day of joy for my nieces and my sister and brother-in-law was tempered by other news. This morning I received an email from one of my students. There was nothing in the subject line, and I assumed that she was checking up on some feedback I owed her for an editing project. (I’ve been a little slow.) But instead, it was a message saying that her baby girl, who was just born, months too soon, had died. I haven’t met this woman in person, but I feel so close to her, and I know she’s heartbroken. I’m heartbroken for her. And I’m sending my love out, hoping that she can feel it.

Tomorrow, I’m going to post an interview with the talented and lovely Katrina Kenison. Her new memoir, Magical Journey, is the perfect book for the way life and death exist side by side, the way we must celebrate each joy-filled moment even in the face of devastation and heartbreak. Please check back for the interview. And in the meantime, holds those dear to you close if you can.

March 6, 2013
by Kate
11 Comments

five

My little Zoë, who is not so little anymore, turned five yesterday. FIVE! She’s still little—I know this—and I know I still have a few more little girl years left with her. Nonetheless, there is something about FIVE that seems so big, so kindergarten, so “I’m over you, Mom!”

I can imagine the drama and sass in our future; this kid already has more than her share of attitude. But I’m hoping her sweet ways will carry us through. And she is a sweet, sweet kid. I love the way her voice gets super (painfully) high when she’s talking to the dog or to her twin one-year-old cousins. I love how, at dinner, if we are saying something that we’re thankful for, she always says, “I’m thank you for my sister. I’m thank you for Aguita. I’m thank you for our family.” I love her eccentricities: the aversion to underwear because it’s “uncomfortable” even though she often rocks tights to bed and wears two or three too-tight-in-the-sleeves shirts at the same time; I love (okay, only sometimes) her refusal to receive help brushing her hair even though she can’t reach the back of her head, so she ends up looking like she lives in a boxcar. I love her mostly-age-appropriate lying (sometimes it goes too far) and the way she loves to snuggle with me (meaning she grabs me in a head-lock and makes me lie down next to her, my head on her chest.) I love that she is learning her letters and paid Stella ¢26 to help her write them properly. I love that she sings on the way to school, even though I’ve had to resign myself to more top 40 than I’d like.

This past weekend, we celebrated Zoë with a family party then a kid party (CRAZY!) and then a preschool pizza and cupcake party after her circle of life celebration. (If you have never been to a preschool Montessori circle of life celebration, which D had not until yesterday, you must make it a priority. My favorite part was when her classmates got to say their wishes for her—110 presents, 1021 presents, chocolate cake, and “I just want to give you a birthday hug!”)

Just wishing a happy birthday to my baby, my big girl. I love you!

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February 23, 2013
by Kate
12 Comments

a gift

I’m Western Wisconsin for my annual Motherhood & Words retreat at Faith’s Lodge.

This is generally a hectic time of year for me and this year is no exception. In the days leading up to the retreat, I was on deadline with a big federal grant at work, prepping for the retreat in the evening, and stealing moments as I made dinner to go through the copyedits for Ready for Air, which are due back to my publisher on Monday. On Tuesday I had a moment of panic, thinking that I wouldn’t get it all done. But somehow I did, as I always do.

On Thursday, after I had packed up the car with clothes and computer and groceries and skis, and headed out to pick up two of the participants who had flown in from out of town for the retreat, I already could feel the stress begin to drain away. Even though I am on the whole weekend, and it’s not really a retreat for me, it’s still one of my favorite weekends of the year. There is nothing like being surrounded by women digging deep, writing what they previously hadn’t been able to get down on the page, working their way toward some kind of truth.

This year there are five new participants and five returning, and they are all amazing. Their words— raw, powerful, heartbreaking, hopeful—spill from their mouths, filling the room, seeping into my heart. As their teacher, I can’t help swell with pride, amazed by their bravery, their vulnerability, their tremendous skill.

This afternoon, after my last individual conference, I will be spent, but alive, and I’ll clip on my cross-country skis and head out into the deep, fresh snow to ski loops on the trails until I am breathing deeply. Then I will return again to the lodge, ready for more of their words (and for some delicious food and wine).

What a gift to call this my work.

February 15, 2013
by Kate
10 Comments

a little blog love

A few weeks ago, Lisen Stromberg honored me with a blog award, the Liebster. Lisen writes the blog An Angel of PrismWork, and I’m grateful to her for her moving prose. When you have a chance, please read this powerful piece about her son.

So, to accept the Liebster Award, I have to do three things: First, I have to answer the 5 questions posed by Lisen. Then, I have to nominate 5 blogs I really like for the award, and those 5 blogs should have under 200 followers. (I’m not sure I know how many followers each of my nominees has, so I’m disregarding that piece.) Finally, I have to pose 5 questions for my nominees to answer.

Here are my answers to the five questions Lisen posed:

1.  That perfect place. Describe it in all its glory and you in it.

My mom’s cabin in Northern Minnesota. I grew up there in the summers, and when the sun is glinting off the lake, it’s one of my favorites places in the world. But it’s also a fabulous retreat in the winter. We were up there last weekend with friends, and there is nothing like clipping on my cross country skis and heading off into the woods. The trees hung heavy with snow as we glided among dark pines and naked aspen. It’s so quiet that you can hear the snow fall, the air filled with an electric fizz of colliding snowflakes.

 

2.   Share, if you will, that one regret because we all have at least one if we are honest with ourselves.

There are a few things I regret, especially situations when my initial inaction created stress and financial burden later on. But even in those cases, I learned so much through the struggle that I’m not sure I can call them true regrets.

 

3.     Share a poem that inspires you and tell us why.

I just received a stunning poem in the mail from a friend whose son died last year.  It’s “Kindness” by Naomi Shihab Nye, and each time I read it I get chills.  You can read it here at the Writer’s Almanac. It’s such a beautiful poem, a reminder to not take anything for granted, to open myself again and again to compassion, to embrace empathy.

 

4.     What one thing are you especially proud that you did last year?

Published my first book! (And sold my second!) I guess that’s two, but what the heck.

 

5.     We all have hero, who is yours?

I know this sounds cheesy, but my husband, D, is my hero. He is the most resilient person I know, continually striving to be the best he can be without ever becoming arrogant or superior.  I could go on and on, but I’ll leave it at that so I don’t embarrass him.

 

The five blogs I chose for the next round of Liebster Awards are:

  • Mama Sweat by Kara Douglass Thom – Kara writes about writing, fitness, and motherhood.
  • Only You by Cecilia writes about parenthood, writing, and finding one’s voice.
  • Remains of the Day by Andrea Lani, who writes about writing, arts, and family. She can craft anything!
  • Angie Mizzell, who writes about freeing yourself and finding the path that feels true to you.
  • Bumbles and Light by Rebecca, who is a photographer and writer documenting her expat life as a mother and artist in Chicago.

And here are my five questions for them:

1)    What is one thing you’d like to accomplish (professionally or personally) in the next year?

2)    Who is the one person who has had an important influence on you? Describe.

3)    What essay or poem or short story do you return to again and again? Why?

4)    In what ways has parenthood shifted your perspective on some aspect (you chose) of your life?

5)    Describe your ideal day.

Check them out!