Jo Knowles's Blog, page 20
January 2, 2012
Defining "Work" and Another Invitation
For the past few years, my family has been fortunate enough to attend a fabulous New Year's Eve party hosted by our friends Holly and Theo. Each year, the party has a theme.
This year, the theme was "Retro Future." While not completely "retro", I went as a Slitheen. I don't think anyone had a clue what I was supposed to be. But I thought my husband did a nice job on the zipper. :)
(If we're Facebook friends and you'd like to see more pics of the party, you can go HERE)
The day after the party, a group of us gather to write down our goals and dreams for the year. We share them, modify them as we listen to feedback, and basically reassure each other that our dreams are not crazy. Our dreams are waiting to come true. And I always leave feeling hopeful for all of us.
From last year's list, here are the dreams I listed that came true:
1. Finish Living With Jackie Chan and sub to Joan
2. Sell Living With Jackie Chan
6. Sell foreign rights and audio of ANYTHING—I didn't sell foreign rights but I did sell my first audio for See You At Harry's :-)
7. Carve out more time for myself
8. Express ANGER—I don't think I expressed ANGER but I did act more assertively when I felt like I needed to speak up for myself both in my personal and professional life, with great results. So, I'm counting this as a goal met.
9. Spend more time working with writing friends
12. Get less nervous at public speaking
13. Start exercising regularly
14. Worry less—I am worrying a LITTLE less but I still need to work on this
15. Have more fun
16. Have a party
17. Renew passport—I did this but then it came back because we used the wrong form!
So, 12 out of 18. Not too bad. Right? I'm pretty pleased.
Like the party, I also choose a theme for the coming year. Last year, I declared it The Year Of Being A Writer. I invited you to join me. I feel like I met this goal about halfway. I have, by what feels like a miracle, managed to move from writing part-time to writing full-time. This is truly a dream come true. But what I haven't managed to do is actually, um, write what I would call "full-time." Because what I have found myself doing with my time once spent doing freelance work is goofing off more on Twitter and Facebook, doing household chores during the week to free up the weekend, and other various procrastinating techniques that have kept me from finishing a challenging revision.
Well, no more of that. This year, my theme is THE YEAR OF DOING THE WORK. I mean that literally, yes. I want to spend a set minimum of time writing Monday to Friday, like I would any other job. But what I also mean is doing the work that is meaningful to me. Do you know what I mean?
I will try to explain.
I want to get back to those pre-published writing days when, while in the writing mind, I was truly IN the writing mind. I wasn't thinking about what my agent or editor might think of the sentence I just wrote. I wasn't thinking about reviews. Or sales. Or best-of lists. Or snarky GoodReads.
I was thinking of story. Of character. Of words.
There was a purity to that time and I want to get it back. I want to get lost again in the pain and the beauty and the journey of wherever my characters need to go. My agent said my theme should be THE YEAR OF WRITING DANGEROUSLY. And I guess this is sort of what I mean. But "dangerous" seems to have taken on new meaning, and I want to banish it. I don't want writing honestly and fearlessly to feel dangerous. I want it to feel like it used to: natural.
What I know is that I have been given a gift. An opportunity of a lifetime. And I want to honor it by writing as truly, as deeply, as best as I can.
Yesterday, before I left the House of Magic, Holly pulled me aside and gave me this:
And that pretty much says it all.
Thank you, Holly. And all my writing friends. I am so glad we are traveling on this journey together. I hope whatever your own theme is, you'll share it so we can help each other stay on our paths.
I had some very sad news last night and I now know with certainty that this year is going to have it's downs as well as its ups. But I know, too, that love will guide us through. And I am truly, truly grateful for that love.
Happy New Year <3
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Monday Morning Warm-Up:
What is your theme for the year?
This year, the theme was "Retro Future." While not completely "retro", I went as a Slitheen. I don't think anyone had a clue what I was supposed to be. But I thought my husband did a nice job on the zipper. :)
(If we're Facebook friends and you'd like to see more pics of the party, you can go HERE)
The day after the party, a group of us gather to write down our goals and dreams for the year. We share them, modify them as we listen to feedback, and basically reassure each other that our dreams are not crazy. Our dreams are waiting to come true. And I always leave feeling hopeful for all of us.
From last year's list, here are the dreams I listed that came true:
1. Finish Living With Jackie Chan and sub to Joan
2. Sell Living With Jackie Chan
6. Sell foreign rights and audio of ANYTHING—I didn't sell foreign rights but I did sell my first audio for See You At Harry's :-)
7. Carve out more time for myself
8. Express ANGER—I don't think I expressed ANGER but I did act more assertively when I felt like I needed to speak up for myself both in my personal and professional life, with great results. So, I'm counting this as a goal met.
9. Spend more time working with writing friends
12. Get less nervous at public speaking
13. Start exercising regularly
14. Worry less—I am worrying a LITTLE less but I still need to work on this
15. Have more fun
16. Have a party
17. Renew passport—I did this but then it came back because we used the wrong form!
So, 12 out of 18. Not too bad. Right? I'm pretty pleased.
Like the party, I also choose a theme for the coming year. Last year, I declared it The Year Of Being A Writer. I invited you to join me. I feel like I met this goal about halfway. I have, by what feels like a miracle, managed to move from writing part-time to writing full-time. This is truly a dream come true. But what I haven't managed to do is actually, um, write what I would call "full-time." Because what I have found myself doing with my time once spent doing freelance work is goofing off more on Twitter and Facebook, doing household chores during the week to free up the weekend, and other various procrastinating techniques that have kept me from finishing a challenging revision.
Well, no more of that. This year, my theme is THE YEAR OF DOING THE WORK. I mean that literally, yes. I want to spend a set minimum of time writing Monday to Friday, like I would any other job. But what I also mean is doing the work that is meaningful to me. Do you know what I mean?
I will try to explain.
I want to get back to those pre-published writing days when, while in the writing mind, I was truly IN the writing mind. I wasn't thinking about what my agent or editor might think of the sentence I just wrote. I wasn't thinking about reviews. Or sales. Or best-of lists. Or snarky GoodReads.
I was thinking of story. Of character. Of words.
There was a purity to that time and I want to get it back. I want to get lost again in the pain and the beauty and the journey of wherever my characters need to go. My agent said my theme should be THE YEAR OF WRITING DANGEROUSLY. And I guess this is sort of what I mean. But "dangerous" seems to have taken on new meaning, and I want to banish it. I don't want writing honestly and fearlessly to feel dangerous. I want it to feel like it used to: natural.
What I know is that I have been given a gift. An opportunity of a lifetime. And I want to honor it by writing as truly, as deeply, as best as I can.
Yesterday, before I left the House of Magic, Holly pulled me aside and gave me this:
And that pretty much says it all.
Thank you, Holly. And all my writing friends. I am so glad we are traveling on this journey together. I hope whatever your own theme is, you'll share it so we can help each other stay on our paths.
I had some very sad news last night and I now know with certainty that this year is going to have it's downs as well as its ups. But I know, too, that love will guide us through. And I am truly, truly grateful for that love.
Happy New Year <3
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Monday Morning Warm-Up:
What is your theme for the year?
December 30, 2011
Happiness is going home for the holidays
To see cousins...
And a growing puppy...
A cat in a bag...
A jolly tree...
A Santa collection...
Our own Santa...
And family.
To admire (but not eat!) Kransakaka...
To don party hats...
And make music.
And to feel the true magic of Christmas that is really with us all year: LOVE.
And a growing puppy...
A cat in a bag...
A jolly tree...
A Santa collection...
Our own Santa...
And family.
To admire (but not eat!) Kransakaka...
To don party hats...
And make music.
And to feel the true magic of Christmas that is really with us all year: LOVE.
December 23, 2011
Yesterday I saw a pretty bird
Yesterday I saw a pretty bird
I don't know what kind
I was stepping out to get the mail
And I heard a sound in the bushes near my hand
I saw the fluttering wings first
And then a smooth gray body
A head, tilting at the sound of my footsteps
She was a graceful thing
As I walked to the end of the driveway
I heard a chirp and thought
Maybe she was calling out to me
Just for a moment
(I know she wasn't really)
But it felt like a little "good-day to you"
And it filled a lonely heart
Well, maybe not so lonely
Just in that moment
In the quiet of the day
In the cold stepping out as the sun sets
I gathered the mail
The morning paper holding news already old
And breathed in
Breathed out
Listened again
But my friend had flown away
I feel grateful though
For that moment we connected
For that pause in our busy days
This morning
There is a fresh blanket of snow on my bird's bush
I need to replenish the feeder
Fill the suet cage
And remember to pause and listen again
Breathe in
Breathe out
Let the snow fall on my eyelashes
Let it melt on my tongue
Maybe even make a snow angel
Or better
Just stand still in the quiet
And be
I don't know what kind
I was stepping out to get the mail
And I heard a sound in the bushes near my hand
I saw the fluttering wings first
And then a smooth gray body
A head, tilting at the sound of my footsteps
She was a graceful thing
As I walked to the end of the driveway
I heard a chirp and thought
Maybe she was calling out to me
Just for a moment
(I know she wasn't really)
But it felt like a little "good-day to you"
And it filled a lonely heart
Well, maybe not so lonely
Just in that moment
In the quiet of the day
In the cold stepping out as the sun sets
I gathered the mail
The morning paper holding news already old
And breathed in
Breathed out
Listened again
But my friend had flown away
I feel grateful though
For that moment we connected
For that pause in our busy days
This morning
There is a fresh blanket of snow on my bird's bush
I need to replenish the feeder
Fill the suet cage
And remember to pause and listen again
Breathe in
Breathe out
Let the snow fall on my eyelashes
Let it melt on my tongue
Maybe even make a snow angel
Or better
Just stand still in the quiet
And be
December 19, 2011
December 15, 2011
Thankful Thursday-Audio Excitement
My family are HUGE audio-book fans. HUGE. Until we started carpooling, we nearly always had a book playing in the car.
Ever since I sold my first book, my secret wish has been to have one of my own books on audio. In fact, last year, it was one of my "dreams" I listed on my "Dreams for 2011" list.
So, it's a thrill to announce that SEE YOU AT HARRY'S will be available on audio!!!!
I wasn't sure when it was OK to share, but since it's available for pre-order at various online sources, I guess now's the time! *dances*
:-)
December 14, 2011
Remembering
I continue to sift through all of these wonderful old family photos and feel the powerful mixed emotions that come with the memories they evoke.
I love this one so much. My brother, chewing the ice off his mitten (my son does the same thing). My sister, looking like she's falling asleep against my dad's neck. Or maybe just closing her eyes against the glare of the sun. But either way, getting comfort from the warmth of his face against her forehead. Me, quietly hanging out on my dad's back, happy as a clam to be there, hands rubber-banded inside my snow jumper.
I'm sure this was taken at Gunstock, in Gilford, NH, where we all learned to ski. And this day, we were probably there to watch the ski jumping, my dad's old sport.
My father and brother were the most incredible skiers. You know the ones. The graceful gliders who move silently across the snow as if they are dancing with the mountain? Skis impossibly close together, effortlessly turning with the dips and moguls as they soar down the mountain, no fear, blissfully unaware of the watching eyes on the chairlift above them. Only enjoying the connection between ski and snow and the delicious wind on their faces.
I don't see many skiers like that any more, actually. But every so often I do. And I remember those childhood days. I remember my brother, especially, and all his grace. And I try again, to find my own.
I love this one so much. My brother, chewing the ice off his mitten (my son does the same thing). My sister, looking like she's falling asleep against my dad's neck. Or maybe just closing her eyes against the glare of the sun. But either way, getting comfort from the warmth of his face against her forehead. Me, quietly hanging out on my dad's back, happy as a clam to be there, hands rubber-banded inside my snow jumper.
I'm sure this was taken at Gunstock, in Gilford, NH, where we all learned to ski. And this day, we were probably there to watch the ski jumping, my dad's old sport.
My father and brother were the most incredible skiers. You know the ones. The graceful gliders who move silently across the snow as if they are dancing with the mountain? Skis impossibly close together, effortlessly turning with the dips and moguls as they soar down the mountain, no fear, blissfully unaware of the watching eyes on the chairlift above them. Only enjoying the connection between ski and snow and the delicious wind on their faces.
I don't see many skiers like that any more, actually. But every so often I do. And I remember those childhood days. I remember my brother, especially, and all his grace. And I try again, to find my own.
December 13, 2011
December 12, 2011
What the tree tells us
I see...
Ornaments I made as a child with my "other mom," Annie-Ruth
The plaid ribbons I bought to help fill our first, low-on-ornaments tree
Victorian tinsel my parents discovered at a special store in North Conway
Beautiful glass "bubbles" my mother-in-law gave us for our first Christmas
The cover of a tin can, lined with pipe cleaner, and my son's 4-year-old smiling face glued on
A chickadee in a nest, hidden in the branches
Norwegian horses to remind me of my mother
The paper snowflake tiny Adelia, who is now in her 20's, made when we first met
My first ornament, Little Red Riding Hood, faded, but still smiling
Peace flags
The star my husband made to top the tree
Delicate candy-canes twisting to reflect the light
Stained glass made by my brother's loving hands
A cardinal perched on a branch
The tacky teddy bear, hidden in the back
A heart
No three
A memomory
No more than that
A reminder
Love is here
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Monday Morning Warm-Up:
If you have a tree or other decoration you get out this time of year, look, then look again. What do you see?
Ornaments I made as a child with my "other mom," Annie-Ruth
The plaid ribbons I bought to help fill our first, low-on-ornaments tree
Victorian tinsel my parents discovered at a special store in North Conway
Beautiful glass "bubbles" my mother-in-law gave us for our first Christmas
The cover of a tin can, lined with pipe cleaner, and my son's 4-year-old smiling face glued on
A chickadee in a nest, hidden in the branches
Norwegian horses to remind me of my mother
The paper snowflake tiny Adelia, who is now in her 20's, made when we first met
My first ornament, Little Red Riding Hood, faded, but still smiling
Peace flags
The star my husband made to top the tree
Delicate candy-canes twisting to reflect the light
Stained glass made by my brother's loving hands
A cardinal perched on a branch
The tacky teddy bear, hidden in the back
A heart
No three
A memomory
No more than that
A reminder
Love is here
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Monday Morning Warm-Up:
If you have a tree or other decoration you get out this time of year, look, then look again. What do you see?
December 8, 2011
Thankful Thursday-Restaurant Memories
Recently my sister shared a bunch of photos she digitized from old slides of our childhood. With See You At Harry's grounded in memories of the restaurant my parents ran, it was fun to come across a few from those days.
Here's my dad scooping some black raspberry for my sister. Those boxes of candy canes are for the peppermint stick ice-cream sundaes my dad made. He always stuck two mini canes on top.
And here are my brother and sister. It looks like they are playing "restaurant." :-)
And here's me. Enjoying. :)
I'm also extremely grateful to Katherine Sokolowski, a 5th grade teacher who blogs at Read, Write, Reflect, who wrote this beautiful review of See You at Harry's.
Excerpt:
"Most of all, I loved Charlie for the fact that he reminded me so much of my son Liam. Liam, who came in to ask why I was crying as I read that book and if it made me sad, why would I continue to read it? I told him what I will tell you. Sometimes things are so beautiful that they bring the tears to your eyes. This book is beautiful."
Thank you, Katherine!
Here's my dad scooping some black raspberry for my sister. Those boxes of candy canes are for the peppermint stick ice-cream sundaes my dad made. He always stuck two mini canes on top.
And here are my brother and sister. It looks like they are playing "restaurant." :-)
And here's me. Enjoying. :)
I'm also extremely grateful to Katherine Sokolowski, a 5th grade teacher who blogs at Read, Write, Reflect, who wrote this beautiful review of See You at Harry's.
Excerpt:
"Most of all, I loved Charlie for the fact that he reminded me so much of my son Liam. Liam, who came in to ask why I was crying as I read that book and if it made me sad, why would I continue to read it? I told him what I will tell you. Sometimes things are so beautiful that they bring the tears to your eyes. This book is beautiful."
Thank you, Katherine!
December 6, 2011
I still believe
This is me with my mom and my grammy in the background.
When we were little, Santa actually SHOWED HIMSELF on Christmas day. That is a Barbie suitcase. I still remember what it smelled like. Hint: Plastic. Also, I remember my mom made her outfit. She was proud of those ruffles. I don't blame her.
I really wish Santa still came knocking on the door shouting "ho ho ho" on Christmas Day. That would be really spectacular.
When we were little, Santa actually SHOWED HIMSELF on Christmas day. That is a Barbie suitcase. I still remember what it smelled like. Hint: Plastic. Also, I remember my mom made her outfit. She was proud of those ruffles. I don't blame her.
I really wish Santa still came knocking on the door shouting "ho ho ho" on Christmas Day. That would be really spectacular.
