As it turns out, there's a limit to how much political insanity I can deal with during a day. By evening, I've usually had my fill of it all -- so I'm spending less time online. Bright spot! That gives me more time to read.
The last two books I've read are shelter in the storm; beautifully written tales that make me eager to read the next works from both authors.
In The Beast is an Animal, Peternelle van Arsdale transports you to a world unlike any you've ever encountered, and makes it feel like home. You know this place, even though it's populated with magical creatures, evil and wonderful. Yes, it's a young adult novel about soul eaters. Don't let that stop you from buying it -- much of today's best writing is classified as young adult, and the best fantasy reflects reality.
Truly. I mean, if you've never dealt with a soul eater, then you've never been employed.
Peternelle also publishes a great newsletter; you can sign up for it here. As she says, "C'mon. Give it a try. Life is too short to live with regrets."
I have one regret about the next book I'm recommending -- I regret that I waited so long to read it.
Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Ng made all the top lists when it was published -- I bought it for my daughter Mary some time ago, and recently "borrowed" it from her. She's not getting it back. This one goes on my favorites bookshelf.
It's the story of a Chinese American family dealing with the death of a child and it should come with a warning: Don't read the last few chapters while on a plane. Not that I cried -- a lot -- while sitting next to a complete stranger or anything. (We're not talking sniffles. We're talking tears rolling down my face.)
The next book from Celeste -- Little Fires Everywhere -- is due out next month, Sept. 12. I will be reading it ASAP. Maybe I'll let Mary borrow it. Hmmm. No. Probably not.
Celeste also has a cool story online from the 2015 Twitter Fiction Festival. (She was an invited author the year I was in the festival as a contest winner. And I was pretty dang excited to be in her company, even loosely and virtually.)
Interestingly, both The Beast is an Animal and Everything I Never Told You explore some of the same topics -- family, loss, the challenge of being an outsider, the power of love to both hurt and heal.
Gorgeously conceived, written and edited books have always been an oasis for me. Given the days we live in, these two books are absolute gifts, instant transport to another time and place. Take a break. Read the books.
Creativity tips, exercises, and the occasional reminder that you're a freakin' creative genius. Own it! Jan Sokoloff Harness, author of "Look Up: Your Unexpected Guide to Good"
Thursday, August 3, 2017
Friday, July 14, 2017
Friday Fun: The Struggle is Real
"If you look at page 16 of your brief ..."
You might watch the video and think, That's funny, but it can't be true. Let me assure you: When I was a creative director, this was my life.
Thanks to Pat for sending me the link!
Monday, July 10, 2017
#MondayMotivation -- Thunder Thighs
There are times when we believe something is out of our control -- and it's not. Case in point:
Thigh gap has never been an issue for me. When I was a child, I was chubby enough that my thighs rubbed together when I walked. If you've never experienced this kind of chafing, let me tell you right now: It hurts.
When I would complain, my mother would sympathetically tell me not to fret: "You just have the Eisen thighs," she'd say. "I do too."
Now, Eisen is mom's maiden name -- so "Eisen thighs" was our family's code for thunder thighs. And, while it didn't stop the chafing, it did make me feel better. There was nothing I could do about my legs. Clearly, I was genetically doomed.
I carried this concept with me for, oh, 55 years or so. As my weight and exercise levels varied over the years, it never once occurred to me that I could do anything re: those Eisen thighs.
So imagine my surprise one day when I got ready for yoga and realized that ... hmmm .... Mom was wrong.
Normally I wouldn't mention this at all -- much less in a blog post. Weight and health and exercise and body image are very personal and I try to tread this ground lightly. However, this example extends far beyond my legs.
As you start your week, stop for a moment and consider this: What "truths" have you carried with you for years without question? Are they still true? Were they ever? It's a new week, my friends. Don't let old ideas hold you back from new possibilities.
P.S. You don't even want to know how many photos were taken before Tom got one that I deemed acceptable and non-thunder-thigh-ish. I'm wearing single-digit-sized Lululemons and still struggling with how my legs look. We're awfully hard on ourselves, aren't we?
Thigh gap has never been an issue for me. When I was a child, I was chubby enough that my thighs rubbed together when I walked. If you've never experienced this kind of chafing, let me tell you right now: It hurts.
When I would complain, my mother would sympathetically tell me not to fret: "You just have the Eisen thighs," she'd say. "I do too."
Now, Eisen is mom's maiden name -- so "Eisen thighs" was our family's code for thunder thighs. And, while it didn't stop the chafing, it did make me feel better. There was nothing I could do about my legs. Clearly, I was genetically doomed.
I carried this concept with me for, oh, 55 years or so. As my weight and exercise levels varied over the years, it never once occurred to me that I could do anything re: those Eisen thighs.
So imagine my surprise one day when I got ready for yoga and realized that ... hmmm .... Mom was wrong.
Normally I wouldn't mention this at all -- much less in a blog post. Weight and health and exercise and body image are very personal and I try to tread this ground lightly. However, this example extends far beyond my legs.
As you start your week, stop for a moment and consider this: What "truths" have you carried with you for years without question? Are they still true? Were they ever? It's a new week, my friends. Don't let old ideas hold you back from new possibilities.
P.S. You don't even want to know how many photos were taken before Tom got one that I deemed acceptable and non-thunder-thigh-ish. I'm wearing single-digit-sized Lululemons and still struggling with how my legs look. We're awfully hard on ourselves, aren't we?
Monday, June 12, 2017
#MondayMotivation -- Embrace Your Structure
When I start a new job for a client, the first thing I do is create a header:
Draft 1/ Job Name/ Date
This will amaze you but, now and then, the first draft isn't the final draft. Yeah. It's true. When that happens, I change the draft number and the date as the project moves forward. The process helps with version control and communication with multiple clients/editors.
That's great, but here's the primary benefit:
Creating the header provides a structure that works for me -- it marks the moment my brain shifts from one client to another, from one job to another, from doodling copy in my head to putting words on paper.
On the other hand, outlines don't work for me and they never have. When I was in school, and a teacher expected an outline before the full paper, I had to write the paper first and then create the outline from it.
Now, maybe outlines work for you. Maybe thought clouds help you write. Maybe your desk has to be absolutely clean. Maybe you need to turn email off, or have music on.
The right structure boosts creativity. This week, embrace your structure!
P.S. As it turns out, the Table of Contents for my book -- a necessary part of the book proposal -- feels like a damn outline to me. I'm now writing what I want for the book, and will go back when I'm done and structure it. Woot!
Wednesday, June 7, 2017
Lost: One Creative Mojo
Dear Readers,
For the past year-and-a-half, I've been working with a book agent on the East Coast -- hammering out a book proposal. The project started as a longer version of my ebook and morphed into a real book, Thank God It's Monday! A week-by-week guide to banishing the Monday morning blues.
Unfortunately -- and despite the fact that several editorial boards liked the book and my writing -- the consensus was that I don't have the platform to sell 20,000 books. Basically, I haven't been on Oprah. I haven't delivered a TED talk.
The agent told me he was regretfully "throwing in the towel" on May 2. I sent the appropriate, and heartfelt, thank you note to him for all his work; we had a lovely farewell chat on the phone; he strongly encouraged me to finish writing the book and self-publish; I thanked him, hung up and gave up.
That's right. The creative instigator's creative mojo meter plummeted to zero. I told the family and a few of my closest friends -- and they were all wonderfully supportive and encouraged me to keep going; this was just a bump in the road.
I heard them, and I tried to believe them. Whenever I gave someone the disappointing update, I purposefully added encouraging comments about self-publishing.
"It's fine! It's all fine!"
But it wasn't. I couldn't even bring myself to tell everyone who knew about my work with the agent that it was over. I still haven't (so if you're on the "didn't know" list, consider this post your update).
One of the people I couldn't stand to tell was Jody Summers. Jody and I worked together years ago and have remained close. She's an incredibly talented writer, understands my writer's mind, and had been a huge cheerleader throughout the months of work on the book proposal. I knew she would be disappointed for me. I didn't want her to be disappointed in me.
Basically, I felt like I had failed at something really important and I just didn't want her to know.
Finally, two weeks after the talk with the agent, I put my big-girl panties on and sent Jod an email update. She immediately responded with kindness and encouragement:
My creative mojo meter inched up a bit. Jody still believed in me and the book. Everyone else I had told still believed in me and the book -- including the agent and several editors at prominent publishing houses. Maybe I should press on.
I went online, reviewed Amazon CreateSpace, and got to work formatting the existing copy. Heck, knowing that I had a lunch date with Jod (deadlines are wonderful), I even started writing new copy.
The mojo meter moved minutely in the right direction. I'd write, but then I'd chop it apart. The words weren't flowing. And my words typically flow.
Then, yesterday, Jody and I had lunch. I brought pages from the CreateSpace site as proof that I was doing something. But, God bless her heart, she wasn't concerned about the copy. She was concerned about me, my reaction, and whether I was taking care of my own creative soul.
And, since she knows me and knew the answer to that question, Jod also:
For the past year-and-a-half, I've been working with a book agent on the East Coast -- hammering out a book proposal. The project started as a longer version of my ebook and morphed into a real book, Thank God It's Monday! A week-by-week guide to banishing the Monday morning blues.
Unfortunately -- and despite the fact that several editorial boards liked the book and my writing -- the consensus was that I don't have the platform to sell 20,000 books. Basically, I haven't been on Oprah. I haven't delivered a TED talk.
The agent told me he was regretfully "throwing in the towel" on May 2. I sent the appropriate, and heartfelt, thank you note to him for all his work; we had a lovely farewell chat on the phone; he strongly encouraged me to finish writing the book and self-publish; I thanked him, hung up and gave up.
That's right. The creative instigator's creative mojo meter plummeted to zero. I told the family and a few of my closest friends -- and they were all wonderfully supportive and encouraged me to keep going; this was just a bump in the road.
I heard them, and I tried to believe them. Whenever I gave someone the disappointing update, I purposefully added encouraging comments about self-publishing.
"It's fine! It's all fine!"
But it wasn't. I couldn't even bring myself to tell everyone who knew about my work with the agent that it was over. I still haven't (so if you're on the "didn't know" list, consider this post your update).
One of the people I couldn't stand to tell was Jody Summers. Jody and I worked together years ago and have remained close. She's an incredibly talented writer, understands my writer's mind, and had been a huge cheerleader throughout the months of work on the book proposal. I knew she would be disappointed for me. I didn't want her to be disappointed in me.
Basically, I felt like I had failed at something really important and I just didn't want her to know.
Finally, two weeks after the talk with the agent, I put my big-girl panties on and sent Jod an email update. She immediately responded with kindness and encouragement:
Hi, Jannie:
They are wrong. It’s a great
book idea and it deserves to be born. Want to schedule lunch?
This is only a step in the
journey, Jan. Don’t give up. Get some time away from it, but don’t let it go.
Jod
My creative mojo meter inched up a bit. Jody still believed in me and the book. Everyone else I had told still believed in me and the book -- including the agent and several editors at prominent publishing houses. Maybe I should press on.
I went online, reviewed Amazon CreateSpace, and got to work formatting the existing copy. Heck, knowing that I had a lunch date with Jod (deadlines are wonderful), I even started writing new copy.
The mojo meter moved minutely in the right direction. I'd write, but then I'd chop it apart. The words weren't flowing. And my words typically flow.
Then, yesterday, Jody and I had lunch. I brought pages from the CreateSpace site as proof that I was doing something. But, God bless her heart, she wasn't concerned about the copy. She was concerned about me, my reaction, and whether I was taking care of my own creative soul.
And, since she knows me and knew the answer to that question, Jod also:
- Gave me the book Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert to read for guidance.
- Reminded me of the value of morning pages -- I am always at my most creative when I do them every morning, and I haven't done them for some time.
- Suggested that I be kinder to myself, and go on solo artist dates. Alone time, in new environments, is inspirational. I know it. I forget to do it.
The waitress brought our check nestled inside a book -- a hardback that guests can inscribe if they want. I wanted.
I haven't started reading Big Magic yet, but I'll tell you what the magic is for me: It's you. It's Jod. It's everyone who reads my writing, and encourages me to keep going. You are the magic -- and you are the reason my creative mojo is coming back.
So here we are, my friends. I'm going to do the morning pages and take myself on artist dates. I'm going to read Elizabeth Gilbert's book -- and write my own, at my pace, when it's fun. I may finish it this summer, this year, or next year. But I will finish it.
So here we are, my friends. I'm going to do the morning pages and take myself on artist dates. I'm going to read Elizabeth Gilbert's book -- and write my own, at my pace, when it's fun. I may finish it this summer, this year, or next year. But I will finish it.
Why? Because I believe with all my heart that this book can help people. It's 52 quick chapters of stories and inspiration and ideas and exercises that can make life happier and help people regain the creative spark we all had as children. It's a wonderful reminder of our own wonderful potential. And I'm a damn good writer, so it will be a fun read.
Lunch with Jody reminded me: One person can make a huge difference. Today, she was that person for me. With the book, I hope to be that person for many others.
Hugs and happy day,
Jan
Thursday, June 1, 2017
#Creativity Tips: Instant (Creative) Gratification
When was the last time you went on a completely new creative
adventure? I recently veered way off my usual path to take part in the first InstantlyKC Instant Film
Workshop – and it was amazing.
I went with Kate,
who takes gorgeous photos with digital and instant cameras. So, naturally, I started
by telling the instructors – Leslie
Adams and Anne Hollond
– that Kate was the photographer. I was just there for fun.
Well, by the end of the workshop, I was singing a different
tune. Turns out, with the right coaching and camera, I am a photographer. (And it is fun!)
After a brief introduction to different instant cameras and
their features, Leslie and Anne took the workshop participants on a guided tour
of the West Bottoms, a fascinating area in Kansas City, not far from downtown. The
skies were gray and rain threatened, but the lighting turned out to be terrific
for instant photography. As we wandered around (and you can wander, even with a
guide), I took a few hesitant shots like this:
And then grew progressively bolder:
Not all of my photos were, shall we say, perfect, but I
captured a few images I really love! This one is my favorite:
To top it all off, Anne and Leslie gave us wonderful little
albums as a workshop keepsake.
I was going to wait and tell you about the workshop when
they have the next one scheduled, but ... I’m all about instant gratification
now. So I couldn’t wait. I’ll post again when the next InstantlyKC Instant Film
Workshop is on the calendar!
For now, look around. Picture the possibilities. What can
you do this summer that you’ve never done before?
Friday, May 5, 2017
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)












