72 Words

I place a near-empty mug of green tea on my desk and lean back in my chair.

On the computer screen is my latest essay.

I wrote the first draft a year ago, then let it sit awhile.

Wrote the second, third, fourth, fifth, six, and seventh drafts about six months later, over the course of a few weeks. Then let it sit awhile.

This morning I pulled it up again. Now it's almost done. It's missing one tiny paragraph - the portion of the essay I always struggle with, the part right before the conclusion. Three to five sentences, no more than 72 words, yet so critical.

Walking helps.

Okay, I'm heading to the streets of Georgetown to get lost in the crowds.

Friday Reading

A few articles online:

Have Cause, Will Travel: I wrote this piece on alternative summer tours (check out The Buried Life, a group of guys helping people accomplish things they want to do before they die – is that not the coolest?).

How to Pitch Whole Life Times: a piece I wrote for MediaBistro.com for those interested in writing for green publications.

How to Pitch California Lawyer: a piece I wrote for MediaBistro.com for those interested in writing for a legal publication (they have a backpage essay).

And finally What Counts?: it’s the gray column underneath the picture of The Buried Life guys. The theme this month is eco-friendly summer travel.

Happy Friday!

One Word Meme

I’m catching up on Memes today.

First: SusieJ tagged me for items in my purse:

Reader’s Digest (July 2007 issue)
Wallet
Shea butter
About a million pens with chewed caps
A notepad

Second: Susan tagged me to recycle a post. I'll pick one and post it tomorrow.

Third: SusieJ tagged me for the One Word Meme:

1. Where is your cell phone? Dunno (apparently not in my purse where it’s supposed to be!)

2. Relationship? Team

3. Your hair? Loose

4. Work? Writing

5. Your sister? In-laws

6. Your favorite thing? Backrubs

7. Your dream last night? Unpleasant

8. Your favorite drink? Coffee

9. Your dream car? Bike

10. The room you’re in? Bedroom

11. Your shoes? Barefeet

12. Your fears? Pain

13. What do you want to be in 10 years? Author

14. Who did you hang out with this weekend? Family

15. What are you not good at? Drawing

16. Muffin? Coffee

17. One of your wish list items? Relocating

18. Where you grew up? Hudson

19. Last thing you did? Kissed (Ron goodbye when he left for the office)

20. What are you wearing? Tanktop

21. What aren’t you wearing? Socks

22. Your pet? Dog

23. Your computer? Laptop

24. Your life? Good

25. Your mood? Content

26. Missing? California

27. What are you thinking about right now? God

28. Your car? Clunker

29. Your kitchen? Abundant

30. Your summer? Travel

31. Your favorite color? Green

32. Last time you laughed? Yesterday

33. Last time you cried? Yesterday

34. School? Creative

35. Love? Yes

Okay, tag, you're it!

Timing

Five new entries are up here: Wasa's site (where I also blog). They all uploaded at once this afternoon. Nothing...and then poof! Five posts. I'm working on the timing. But if you haven't visited yet (or even if you have) c'mon over and share some thoughts in the comments. I touch on everything from car crashes to demolished pies to Oprah and The Eagles.

Selah

In a few days Ron and I will head off to our retreat house. We're trying to think of a name for it. The Rough House was one idea. Cute and funny, but it doesn't quite convey the purpose of the place which is to take refuge and enjoy the land and mountains and trees and all of God's creation. When we were there last month we walked from room to room and prayed a house blessing. We stood on the decks and in the yard and read many Psalms. I kept coming across the world Selah. It occurs 71 times in the Psalms and three times in Habakkuk. It's exact meaning is unknown, but some potential ones: (1) to lift up hands in prayer; (2) a cry of worship like Amen or Hallelujah. I like those definitions, but they are the least common. It tends to most often be defined as a musical direction, like a crescendo. If Ron and I could carry a tune in a bucket that might work, but we can't even sing Happy Birthday on key. So I don't know . . . we're still thinking. Any ideas? Maybe something will come to us as we enjoy spending time together under the sky and the stars.

A Conversation with Rebecca Walker

A couple months ago I had the chance to interview Rebecca Walker.

We met the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in Washington DC. It was a beautiful relaxing day – well, for me. I headed to the hotel a few hours early and spent the afternoon reviewing portions of Baby Love and tweaking my questions. I sipped an iced-tea. Rebecca was in the middle of her book tour, rushing around from interview to TV spot to NPR. I was her eighth (and final) interview of the day (unless you count her reading that night).

About three questions in she started laughing and saying that all the interviews were flashing through her mind. When I said I must be asking questions she’d heard a million times before she said, “No, actually your questions are a little bit different…more literary!” Well, what can I say? It was a piece for Literary Mama. For the official profile, visit this link. But for fun, here are a couple tidbits of our conversation that didn’t make the final cut:

On deciding to have kids…

Jenny: Do you think having a child is the biggest decision a person can make in life?

Rebecca: It’s hard to think in terms of the biggest decision, but it’s a pretty big decision, yeah. I mean, it alters things so much just in terms of your day-to-day life. I feel so rooted in life now because there’s this other person that is completely dependant on me. I just wrote this little essay that basically says, “I can’t die now.” For me, I don’t mind, but for him it would be a nightmare, you know? So it is a big decision and it does change everything. But it’s also a big decision to move to Hong Kong and make wooden fish and decide you’re going to be a nun or a monk. You know what I mean?

On women judging other women…

Jenny: And what about all the judging? There’s so much judging here in America on all the issues you touch upon in your book. Breast verses bottle. Cesarean verses vaginal births.

Rebecca: We have so many options that everyone gets polarized into these different camps. People get so caught up in believing their way is the right way. Then the mother-to-be gets sort of batted around between opposing ideologies struggling to figure out which feels organic and authentic to her. And I think that it’s kind of a blessing that we have those options, but it can also be kind of a curse.

And finally a little chat about birth stories…

Jenny: I love the fact that you chronicled Tenzin’s birth story. It made me want to call my own mother and say, I know that I was born at night 33 years ago, but tell me the real story. Do you think this will help him?

Rebecca: I hope it’ll help him understand certain things about his life and our life and the decisions I made and why. I hope he will see how I longed for him for so long. And how un-ambivalent I am about him being in my life.

Letting Go

Off we went.

Yesterday we drove down the freeway, off the ramp, over the hills, past the haystacks, around the curves, through the potholes, above the gravel, by the lake, and about the bend (to somebody’s grandmother’s house).

A one hour drive.

The house had a For Sale sign in the yard. It was the right size and (sort of) within our price range.

Except.

Except, except, except.

We talked about the commute. Two hours in a car each day isn’t going to work (especially if we have kids). We talked about the layout. A bedroom where you have to walk through the kitchen and family room to reach the bathroom didn't feel quite right. And the lake. The lake was visible but not accessible. That’s no fun.

Also where in the HECK were we?

We had no idea. We were pretty sure we were still in Maryland.

When we first began house hunting four years ago I could go for months on end looking at real estate. Eventually I’d get discouraged and take a break. I think I’ve hit my limit. This time around we looked at one little old house and I already feel defeated.

I keep telling Ron I’m hanging on by my fingertips. Each time I think an answer will reveal itself it doesn’t. So I grip even harder.

I wonder what would happen if I just let go?

Full Moon

From Barbara Kingsolver’s book of essays High Tide in Tucson:

"I’m particular to lunar cycles, ever since I learned as a teenager that human females in their natural state—which is to say, sleeping outdoors—arrive at menses in synchrony and ovulate with the full moon."

That is one of the coolest things I've learned in long time. Your beliefs may be different than mine, but I can’t help but read that and marvel at God.

Look out your window tonight.

The moon’s a getting’ bigger.

Smooth Talker

Me: I can’t think of anything to blog about. It’s driving me crazy.

Ron: I gave you a bunch of ideas.

Me: Like what?

Ron: Blog about "Blogger’s Block."

Me: That’s boring.

Ron: Blog about _____.

Me: ____? I'm saving that for an article.

Ron: Blog about the fact that we’ve crossed our 1-year anniversary of living on the east coast.

Me: When it comes to that topic, all I can think about is how much I still want to move back to California.

Ron: How about the movie Fast Food Nation?

Me: Should I blog that I cried when the cows were killed?

Ron: No, blog about the food industry and how it’s all about dollars and cents. That’s what I’d do if I had a blog.

Me: You should start a blog! You could call it Smooth Talker.

Ron: No, no, no (laughing). All I’d do is end up blogging about my quirky life theories.

Me: I know, it would be great!

Many Mouths to Feed

I have a girlfriend who has a husband, three kids, two cats, plants, and a fish. I remember asking her once if she was going to get her kids any other pets. Maybe a hamster? A bunny? A puppy? She said, "I spend all day feeding living creatures and then cleaning up their poop, I can't add one more to our family!"

Ron and I don't even have kids - yet we still struggle to feed ourselves, the plants, and our dog on any sort of a sane schedule. I blogged about it today over here: Remembering the Golden Rule.

Baby Love and More

Blogger keeps eating my post. Third time’s a charm, right?

In addition to Love at 48th Sight a few more of my articles are out today:

Baby Love – my review of Rebecca Walker’s lovely and honest book about pregnancy and motherhood is online at LiteraryMama.com. This piece includes a tiny bit about my pregnancy/miscarriage journey.

Ask a Blogger – this column is running today. Thank you to The Urban Muse and others for submitting questions. (I’m still collecting them if anyone has any Qs on blogging.)

Wasa Blog – a couple more posts are up over here. Thanks to those who have stopped by and left a note.

In other news . . . a wonderful writing instructor, Amy Friedman, is teaching a class in France this summer. I wish I could go! Maybe you?

Love at 48th Sight

Ron and I didn't meet through Match.com, but we were set up on a blind date through mutual friends (thanks Sara and Cara!). We know couples with successful relationships that have met and married within weeks, and others that have taken a bit longer to find their way to love. Part of our story is in an article I wrote for Match.com's Happen magazine today: Love at 48th Sight.

Let it Rain

There was a drought in the land. Two farmers prayed to God for rain, but only one went out and prepared his fields. Who do you think had greater faith? --Facing the Giants

The past two days I’ve come across three different stories about women who miscarried or couldn’t get pregnant. Time went on. And on. And on. The women remained faithful. They are mothers now.

After a miscarriage it’s scary to continue pursuing the path of motherhood with my whole heart. But it’s time to prepare my fields for rain.

Laying Low

Sick yesterday. Sick today. Blah. I’m laying low alternating between sleeping, reading Plenty, and hoping a good movie comes on tv.

The Frog Piece

Two and a half years ago I waltzed out of a law office and into a new career as a freelance writer. Despite the fact that I held a JD and had five years legal experience under my belt, when it came to journalism, I was as green as a baby tree frog . . .

Thus begins my latest article online today at MediaBistro.com (it's not about breaking into freelancing, but I think of it as "the frog piece"). Thanks to all the writers who responded to an e-mail I sent out a few months ago asking for thoughts to add to it.

The article is here: Voice from the Other Side: Tips for Editors (30 freelancers sound off on rules they wish their editors would follow).

This is the first article I've ever been nervous about seeing in print -- but it turned out fine. Mostly, I want to say thanks to the editors who have taken a chance and hired me, especially to those who hired me when I was as green as a baby tree frog and barely had a clip to my name. I was (and am) so very grateful. Ribbet.

My Other Blog

Hey, I'm over here where (starting today) I'll be blogging four times a week. I’ll still keep up with Roughly Speaking, but as the new Wasa blog gets off the ground, stop on over and leave your comments there!

Blessings,

Jenny

Leaving

In bed, I open my eyes and see blue sky and pine trees out the bare windows. It is early morning, and I stretch out on my air mattress to yawn. After working five hours in the garden last night (until the sun left to go visit people on the other side of the world), I slept hard. Now the light is back, but even with the sun’s yellow glow to wake me, I feel a sinking feeling weighing down on my chest. It’s my last day here. Soon, I’ll be leaving the wild free land of Colorado to return to the busy city where Ron and I are renting an apartment.

We’ve lived in six different places since our wedding day four years ago. Sometimes we look at each other, perplexed, when we notice all our other friends own a house in the suburbs, work steady jobs, and have popped out a kid or two. They appear very organized. We feel as if we’re bumbling along clueless. Since our wedding day, we’ve both taken major career turns (thus the many moves), lost our child (miscarriage), and can’t seem to settle into a home in the city where we actually live and work. But somewhere along our journeys we decided to purchase a retreat in the mountains.

It’s small.
Humble.
Borderline rustic.

I love its absolute simplicity.

We can only visit for small pockets of time – weeks scattered here and there among vacations and holidays – yet it’s the one place I feel anchored. No matter what other job changes, moves, or challenges the future may bring, we’ll (God-willing) have this place to return to and regroup. As I spend time here tending to the daisies, building a fire in the wood stove, or writing at night by candlelight, I can practically feel the old, unnecessary parts of me shedding away and new areas of growth stirring deep inside.

As I begin the long winding trip down the gravel and dirt road, I offer up a prayer of gratitude. Ron and I will be back here soon enough, but still, it’s hard to leave. A flock of thirty wild turkeys – the ones that usually spend their morning drinking from the rain garden or pecking around the land for insects – run across the driveway in front of the car as if to say good-bye. It’s moulting season, and as they scurry off they leave behind a flurry of feathers.

Off My Desk and Into the World

On the web today:

Go with the Flow - a piece about a "growth spurt" I had during a yoga session the other day.

What Counts? - statistics on the environmental impact of Corporate America (it's the gray column underneath the picture of the Living Tower).

And this one is not online, but it's coming to a bookstore near you in September: A Cup of Comfort for Writers. (My essay is the last one. Whew! I just made the cut!) I'm trying to put together one or two readings, so stay tuned for details...

Another Addition to the Bookshelf

A few weeks ago I read this lovely book: Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life.

Ahhh, I enjoy reading funny, engaging, well-written books so much. Of course another part of me was thinking, "Why, oh why, didn't I think of this format as a book idea!" It's a memoir organized like an encyclopedia. Very cool.

Thank You My DC-Writing Group!

I enjoy my DC-based writing group so much. One of the members, Amy Rogers Nazarov (look for her work in Cooking Light among other mags), and I met on UPOD and she invited me to join the group -- thank goodness. It's been a huge help because we discuss issues like how to communicate with editors, finding new markets, and holding each other accountable.

The other members, Melanie, Scott, Jeff, Matt, Suz, Rina, and Michele were kind enough to let me tape record a session and really exaimine what it is about our group that works so well.

Read all about it here, on Media Bistro.com: Make Writing Group Magic.

Far From the City

A private one-on-one yoga session.

Incredible instructor, originally from Denmark. She's peace. She's joy.

90 minutes.

Sun salutations while gazing out her living room window; nothing but mountains and sky and pines.

After the session, outdoors on her patio, we sip hot tea, munch sliced watermelon, and have lovely conversation.

$25.

As in $25!

Meaning $25!

I love being in the middle of nowhere far from the overpriced city! Okay, for my "Yoga on the Go" post, visit Wasa's blog here. (I'd be curious to hear how you keep up good eating habits and/or exercise when traveling.)

Yard Girl

"Do you need any help?" Ron asks after he finishes putting together the reel lawn mower.

"Nope, I've got it," I say. "All I need to do is mow the patch around our rain garden."

(Do you like the red? I picked the color myself.)

I push. The mower gets stuck. I muster all my strength and push again. About three rows later I bend over, panting.

“I need a lunch break,” I announce. “This requires more energy than I thought it would.”

“Well, the grass is long,” Ron says, trying to make me feel better for pooping out so soon.

I eat a sandwich, fruit, and a glass of tomato juice.

“Much better,” I declare, and I bound back outside to give the ol’ reel mower another try.

Three more rows and I bend over, panting.

“I think I’m gonna barf,” I say. “I shouldn’t have eaten right before mowing.”

Shades of Green

Beth, who writes the delightful blog Shenanigans, has tagged Roughly Speaking as a blog that makes her think. Thanks Beth! Beth has a great story: she fell in love with an Irish man and followed him to Dublin, Ireland (and to think I’m grumbling about moving from LA to DC…hmm…at least I can fly back to California in five hours). Anyway, in order to pass on the honor, here are five blogs that make me think. They all have a “sustainable living” theme.

Gift of Green – a mother of two trying to change her lifestyle to one that’s more eco-friendly. Love this blog (and not just cuz she happened to quote my most recent article - though that was sure nice of her).

Diane’s Big Green Purse – a great read for green lifestyle tips (check out her May 28 posting with links to eco-mom bloggers).

Vegan Fare – a writer with a fascinating story about her journey to veganism. She just started her blog a few days ago, so hop on over and say hello.

Ideal Bite: A website/blog sorta like DailyCandy.com but for green people.

Green LA Girl – need I say more?

Exceptions to the Rules

Ron and I are retreating at our cabin in the mountains of Colorado. One day we visit my favorite “art store” in Durango. I call it "the art store" not because there are paintings (through there are some), but because there are beautiful beds and tables and cabinets all handcrafted by a man and his wife. Artists. Our place currently has two air mattresses a large, round wooden table and a couple chairs. We’re not in a rush to furnish our retreat space, but we have our eye out.

“Honey, look,” I say, holding up green woven placemats. “These would look good on our table.”

“Don’t we have a bunch of extra placemats at home we can bring out here?”

“But these go with our theme.”

“What’s our theme?”

“Buy everything new!”

~~~

Okay, okay. Really our theme is to minimally furnish the place with recycled and reused furniture. But every rule has an exception. Actually, if I recall my law school studies correctly, every rule has numerous exceptions. And then there are exceptions to the exceptions. Here’s what I figure: this store is full of crafts from local artists who, I might point out, are using reclaimed wood and recycled materials to build “new” furniture and make handcrafted accessories. So I can buy that stuff, right? Right!