M.J. Pullen's Blog, page 22

April 9, 2014

Surprisingly Dangerous Things about Being a Novelist

bwbearsignMost of the time, I love being a fiction writer. It’s something I have been passionate about my whole life, and as a bonus, it can be done while wearing pajamas and eating peanut butter and banana sandwiches in bed. For all its glamor, though, fiction writing is a risky business. Not spy risky, or deep-sea fisherman risky or anything, but still.


For one thing, I’ve read that something like 77% of accidental injuries occur in or near the home. Holy crap, I’m at home right now! Better get to the coffee shop.


Here are some other risks that come with the trade:



Apparently, not everyone appreciates it when you eavesdrop on their conversations to get ideas for characters and plot development. I especially don’t recommend it in biker bars or sorority parties. Or country clubs, especially if you’re not a member or guest. They really do have the juiciest gossip in there, though.
Good writers have to go where the story takes them, even if it means scaling the fence of the country club. Scrapes and sprains from climbing fences and dodging security are just part of the deal.
Writers are constantly in danger of flagging government watchlists for our questionable internet searches: for example, how to get blood out of various fabrics; where to buy a wide range of murder weapons, drug paraphernalia and sex toys. I personally Googled “Human Trafficking” and “Disneyworld Vacation” within a span of minutes just the other day. And since Disney tracks us all better than the FBI, I look forward to law enforcement meeting my family at the gates of the Magic Kingdom this summer. My kids will think that’s as cool as Mickey.
Living in your own little fictional world means you often aren’t always fully engaged in the actual world. I’ve had many a close call in traffic while trying to bring hero and heroine together in my head. (So worth it, btw.) And I’m not saying how I know this, but you really shouldn’t try to make notes for a story while on the treadmill.
Bears.
Like professional athletes, writers are prone to the many pitfalls of instantaneous fame and fortune. We’re often handed huge publishing contracts right out of college or even high school, and the money really goes to our head. It seems every week there’s a novelist’s multimillion dollar mansion on the auction block, or a poet laureate shooting a stripper’s boyfriend outside a club. It’s a shame.
All friendships are at risk when, anytime someone confides their deepest and most painful secrets in you, there’s a tiny little part of your brain thinking, “how can I use this in my work in progress?”
Carpal tunnel. It’s real, people.
Come to think of it, I don’t know how any writer manages to hold a marriage or other significant relationship together. Next to dictators, fiction writers are the most self-absorbed, capricious, emotionally leeching creatures on earth. We get lost in our own little worlds, neglect the housework, bring the laptop to bed, and send the kids to school in wrinkled clothes holding patched-together lunches. We pick fights when we have writers’ block to make ourselves feel better, and suck the energy and ideas of those around us so that we can transform them into our own art (or that might be just me). I’m not sure what special brand of insanity keeps Hubs around (and patient and supportive to boot) but I am so grateful it does.
Every writer is addicted to something. Even setting aside famous authorial liquor binges and illicit substances, I think we have a collective problem with nutrition. Read through a few writers’ profiles on Twitter or Facebook, you will quickly see that they read like a recipe for tasty, legal self-medication. We love wine, chocolate, and coffee. If that’s not available, we’ll take coffee, chocolate and wine instead. Occasionally a thriller writer will profess a love of cigars and craft beer. It’s not cool to say you’re addicted to raw vegetables, but I’m starting to think we’d be better off if it were. Or…. alternate suggestion: could it be that chocolate, coffee and wine are a lynchpin for literary civilization, holding it all together? Hmmm. We’d better hang onto them just in case.

So there you have it. Ten ways your fiction writer friends are laying it on the line for your reading pleasure, every day. Our fingers are tired and we might need rehab, but we’re just happy you’re happy.


And you can help, of course. Buy a book, share a book, review a book. Send us wine, coffee and chocolate (I can have wine and chocolate again in 176 days, but who’s counting?) . Or you could contribute to this fund, which supports writers and photographers who really do put their lives and freedom at risk every day to bring us news stories from around the world.


_______________________________________________


I’m M.J. (Manda) Pullen, an author and mom in the Atlanta, Georgia area. When I’m not falling off the treadmill or running from bears, I blog about writing, publishing, parenthood, life and the many lessons I’ve learned the hard way.


If you enjoyed this blog, please follow along or join my Inner Circle monthly email list. At the end of each month I do random drawings with various prizes for list subscribers, the friends who refer them, and everyone who comments on the blogs. Good luck with that!


My current roster of books includes The Marriage Pact series, a trilogy of Contemporary Romance/Women’s Fiction novels. You can find them for all eBook formats and in paperback here.


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Published on April 09, 2014 11:30

April 8, 2014

Inside My Jazzercise Brain

If you’ve been following any of my attempt-at-health-related blogs, you know that I love Jazzercise. Love, love, love it. A few of my friends, guy friends especially, have teased me about this, and I think maybe it’s the name. It harkens many of us back to an era when “Mousekercising” was a thing you did with Mickey and Donald, and “Jazzercising” was the grown-up version you did if you had boobs, leg warmers, and a braided headband. Or, you know, this….



The sad thing is, I don’t think this looks that bad anymore. I’m 38 and I have two little kids. I’m excited at the idea that I still might have a boogie body. If you tell me I’ve got one, I’ll be happy to move it.


One of my favorite things about Jazzercise is that a dance workout forces me out of my own head in a way that walking, running and even yoga can’t seem to do. Put me on a treadmill and in 15 minutes I’ll be making a grocery list in my head and rationalizing why I should cut my time short and run a quick errand instead. When I go out for a walk or run, I often slow to a stroll after the first mile, contemplating the universe and whether I should get highlights in my hair (answer to both = yes). And I know yoga is supposed to quiet the mind, but my mind doesn’t always get the memo, even mid-Savasana. The second my mind gets quiet, I start to snore, which the person on the mat next to me doesn’t always appreciate.


In Jazzercise, however, my thoughts are less free to wander to my to-do list or my work-in-progress. Jazzercise moves so quickly and requires focus on your body all the time. When my thoughts wander, I lose the beat, lose the steps, and lose momentum. If that happens, I’m in danger of falling down, spraining an ankle, or dancing smack into the person next to me. It forces me to take a break from the day-to-day stressors and focus on me for 60 minutes.


Which isn’t to say I don’t have some semi-psychotic crazy interesting thoughts during Jazzercise. They’re just a little more contained. Here’s a sampling from some recent classes:


jazzershoesWarm Up


I can’t believe I made it today. I am sooo tired. I wish I hadn’t waffled about whether to come or not, since by the time I got here there was no space in the back. I hate being at the front of the class. Now I have to pay attention and stay on the beat so I don’t throw anyone else off. And everyone can see that my thighs stop moving a couple of seconds after the rest of me. Oh, well, hopefully it won’t be too bad.


Cardio


This isn’t so terrible. We’re starting with a song I know, so that’s good. [sings to self] Wait: am I wearing the good sports bra, or the back-fat sports bra? Oh, crap. Right foot first, dummy. I’ll just march for a second until I’m back in sync with the group. Oh, wait. Missed it. Aaaaaand got it… just in time for the move to change.


Oh, oh oh! I love this song! This is that one that makes me feel like a badass. Skip, skip, jump. Skip, skip, jump. Chasse, front crossover. Elbows up – love that move. I am kind of a badass. You know, for… me. I guess I am pretty glad I came today. How’s it going back row? Can you keep up with me? Whew. Must remember to breathe. Oops. Sort of hit the wall. I don’t think anyone noticed. Just keep going.


Time for hip hop. You know, I’ve never been a huge hip hop fan but when you dance to something I think you appreciate it differently. That’s right, I’ve got the knee-lift thing down. Check me out getting a little funky – I wonder if Beyonce needs a new backup dancer? She’s gotta have an opening for an overweight white girl who occasionally trips over her own feet and has to be home at 7:30 to tuck in her kids, right? Hmm… I don’t think I’d love being on the road so much.


Now this song, this one I’ve mastered. I’ve got your back-ball-change right here, suckers. I even know when the moves to the music. I am on it. Repeater knees, attitudes, hip lifts. Check, check, check. Maybe I could be an instructor? It seems like a fun job. They’re always so nice. Would be perfect with my writing schedule. Of course I’d have to come every time then, not just when I felt like it. And I think you have to be good at counting. I’m terrible at counting. And it takes me six weeks to master any move involving a single-knee bend. They probably frown on falling off the stage, too, or cussing profusely into the microphone when you miss the beat. With everyone looking up at me, I’d always be wondering if I had something in my nose. Also, public jiggling.


Maybe not. I’ll just try to make it to class three times a week for a while.


Strength


Lighter weights or heavy? The eternal question. Should I push myself today? What the heck – I’m feeling pretty good. Let’s go heavier.


[30 seconds pass]


Oh Dear God why did I choose these weights? Burning. So much burning. People were simply not designed to hold their arms over their heads for this long. What am I preparing myself for? Waitressing for very tall people? Hurling boulders? Ugh.


Whew. Arms done. Now glutes, which is fitness-person speak for “butt,” and legs. This is the part where we start using all the fancy French dance names for everything while we’re bending and raising. I’m pretty sure they use the French to make us sound more graceful than we are. In my Costco-brand workout gear, sweat rolling in my eyes, I have a sneaking suspicion that “Arabesque” en Francais really means “Ass Torture.”


The instructor just said, “Channel your inner ballerina.” Hmmm. I’m pretty sure I ate my inner ballerina in 1987. Bitch would not stop twirling. I can release my inner long-haul trucker, though. Is that close enough?


Abs. I don’t want to think about my abs. I’m still not convinced that I actually have abs. What I have that passes for stomach muscle is actually just the rolls of fat working in concert on the false promise of a jelly doughnut. It took me a month to figure out a reverse crunch wasn’t a kind of cereal. Still, often when we do abs we’re listening to Bruno Mars. I’m just going to grit my teeth and pretend that Bruno is here in the room, singing just for me, about when he was my man. And holding a doughnut.


Stretch


Oh, wow. Stretch already. That flew by, didn’t it? Of course I’m not fooled, I know there’s always one last song after the stretch. The Jazzercise denouement (yeah, writers do the French thing too, for exactly the same reason). But that’s okay because I’m sort of high on endorphins and I feel pretty forgiving. I have totally earned my banana and almond butter rice cake.


At least I can pretend it’s a jelly doughnut.


_______________________________________________


I’m M.J. (Manda) Pullen, an author and mom in the Atlanta, Georgia area. When I’m not looking up the French translation for “my ass hurts,” (mon mal de cul) I blog about writing, publishing, parenthood, life and the many lessons I’ve learned the hard way.


If you enjoyed this blog, please follow along or join my Inner Circle monthly email list. At the end of each month I do random drawings with various prizes for list subscribers, the friends who refer them, and everyone who comments on the blogs. Good luck with that!


My current roster of books includes The Marriage Pact series, a trilogy of Contemporary Romance/Women’s Fiction novels. You can find them for all eBook formats and in paperback here.


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Published on April 08, 2014 03:55

April 5, 2014

March Giveaway Winner – Amy R.

amazongiftcardCongratulations, email subscriber Amy R., who won a $15 amazon.com gift card in my monthly drawing for March! Amy won by being a subscriber to my email list. You can also get entries to the monthly drawing by commenting on my blog (be sure to include a good email when you comment), and if friends list your name as the referral when they sign up for my email list.*


The prizes vary from month to month and are based mostly on my whim and caprice.


Good luck!


*Results are courtesy of random.org.


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Published on April 05, 2014 13:23

April 2, 2014

Bless Me Internet, for I Have Sinned – Sugar Detox Day Ten

Well, here I am on the last night of the last day of the ten-day sugar detox. During the ten days, I kind of impressed myself by being able to avoid sweet and sweetened foods altogether. My few slips were mostly unintentional, finding sugar in unexpected places (like salad dressings and unflavored half and half). I think those served as teaching tools, forcing me to read labels and think carefully before ordering certain things in restaurants. My one moment of voluntary sugary weakness came yesterday, after I’d been up all the night previous with a restless kiddo. I was spreading almond butter on a gluten-free wrap and (hold onto your horses), I added a drizzle of honey. That’s right, honey, honey. You would have thought it was a line of cocaine the way I felt about doing it.


It’s amazing what being tired, stressed and hungry will do to your ability to make healthy choices. In counseling, we used to say never make decisions when you are HALT (Hungry, Angry, Lonely or Tired), and I think the same is true for eating healthy. I found my toughest choices came when I was ill-prepared or rushed. Even if I didn’t violate the sugar detox, I sometimes made other questionable choices that were fatty or empty calories. (Chips, etc.) This morning, after wrestling the boys into the car and off to preschool, I found myself starving on the way to visit the osteopath with no time to run home or to the store. I ended up grabbing a breakfast sandwich at Starbucks because it was one of the lower-calorie options I could eat on the run.


Since I also took myself off wheat before and during the detox, the sandwich was the first real bread I’d had in a couple of weeks. All I can say is wow. Just wow. I couldn’t believe how bad I felt – groggy and disconnected – within half an hour. I wanted to crawl in the backseat of my van and take a nap at 10 a.m. Even with the coffee. I had a hard time focusing on what the doctor said in the first half of our session together, and my brain felt…. foggy. I know it sounds crazy, but needless to say when the doctor suggested I stay off wheat, gluten and sugar for a few more months, I didn’t take much convincing.  At least on the wheat. We’ll discuss whether I can survive without Guinness and chocolate later. :)


Basking in my ten minutes of foodie triumph.

Basking in my ten minutes of foodie triumph.


For now, I’m going to go out on a positive note and share today’s planning-ahead accomplishment, thanks to a fab idea from my doctor: these cool salads in jars! You put the dressing on the bottom, then protein and veggies, lettuce on the top. You can make them ahead of time and just shake them up when you’re ready to eat. Mine are asian pears, walnuts, goat cheese and arugula — I’m sure there are six million other recipes for these on Pinterest. What a cool idea.


I want to say thanks again to everyone who followed and supported me during the detox. Many people asked me about it, made comments, and even tried to make my life easier and I so appreciate it. Since it appears this is turning into a longer road for me, I’ll try to continue posting periodically about the challenges of eating kale and blueberries when what you really want is a Big Mac and chocolate shake.


Have you ever given up a food you love – for Lent, for health reasons, or when the Twinkie factory workers went on strike? How did you deal with it?


_______________________________________________


I’m M.J. (Manda) Pullen, an author and mom in the Atlanta, Georgia area. I blog about writing, publishing, parenthood, life and the many lessons I’ve learned the hard way. I miss chocolate.


If you enjoyed this blog, please follow along or join my Inner Circle monthly email list. At the end of each month I do random drawings with various prizes for list subscribers, the friends who refer them, and everyone who comments on the blogs. Good luck with that!


My current roster of books includes The Marriage Pact series, a trilogy of Contemporary Romance/Women’s Fiction novels. You can find them for all eBook formats and in paperback here.


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Published on April 02, 2014 20:17

March 31, 2014

Manda’s Wine and Queso Diet (Sugar Detox Day Eight)

Monteluce Winery - my kind of party

Monteluce Winery, Dahlonega, Georgia


As I mentioned on Friday, I spent the weekend at a Bachelorette Party in the mountains. At the bride’s request, this was not a frilly limo-tour of bars with fruity cocktails and male dancers, or even an extravagant spa weekend; but two nights in a rustic cabin down a muddy road with a relaxed foray in an SUV to some of North Georgia’s beautiful wineries on Saturday. It was a jeans and sweater kind of affair (though she did sport a veil and pink feather boa — we’re not barbarians). That preference is one of many reasons I love this girl, and I’m so happy she is marrying one of my oldest and best friends.


I was a little concerned about how the sugar detox would go over the weekend. I love wine, I love food in general, and vacations are a time of major weakness for me when it comes to eating. It doesn’t take much social pressure to get me into a celebratory slice of cake or a bag of M&M’s; but it takes a hell of a lot of discipline to pull me OUT of that bag once I’m in. Frosting is like crack to me.


My health coach friend Meghan suggested that I sip on some red wine as my weekend indulgence. And that’s what I did. Well, that’s what I did if you replace the word “sip” with “guzzle,” and “some red” with “a liter of red and a few glasses of white.” To really make it accurate, you have to tack on “and eat your weight in chips and queso.”


This is my kind of luncheon.

This is my kind of ladies’ luncheon…


I opted not to even track my weight watchers points: partly because we were in the middle of nowhere and the WW app on my phone was useless without cell service, and partly because who wants to say “excuse me girls, I just need to go see how unhealthy what we’re eating really is…”? I decided to try to make sensible choices for most of the weekend, and to keep avoiding wheat plus any sugary foods aside from the wine. Other than a few bites of flatbread chips and a citrus vinaigrette on my beet salad, I think I managed both of those restrictions pretty well. As for tortilla chips and dairy, though, all bets were off. Cheese = yes. Pimento cheese, cheddar cheese on toothpicks, melted cheese with jalapenos… ah, the nectar of the gods. Well… the nectar of the cows.


So when I stepped on the scale this morning, I held my breath. Salty chips, queso, a half-pound of guacamole, 10,458 nuts. SO much wine. And no Jazzercise. (We did see a Jazzercise studio while we were up there, but I was in no condition to dance at that moment.) But the scale was kind this morning: I was actually down two pounds since Friday. Woo-friggin-hoo, y’all!


So I’m smiling today and getting ready to write my new book: Wine, Cheese and Lose! by M.J. Pullen. Coming soon to a bookstore near you.


_______________________________________________


I’m M.J. (Manda) Pullen, an author and mom in the Atlanta, Georgia area. I blog about writing, publishing, parenthood, life and the many lessons I’ve learned the hard way. I once accidentally killed a pet mouse by feeding him too much cheese, and am now trying to avoid giving him his revenge.


If you enjoyed this blog, please follow along or join my Inner Circle monthly email list. At the end of each month I do random drawings with various prizes for list subscribers, the friends who refer them, and everyone who comment on the blogs. Good luck with that!


My current roster of books includes The Marriage Pact series, a trilogy of Contemporary Romance/Women’s Fiction novels. You can find them for all eBook formats and in paperback here.


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Published on March 31, 2014 08:17

March 28, 2014

Sugar Detox Day Four Plus – Pass the Whine

The sugar detox has been going on since Monday, and I started feeling some of the less pleasant effects Wednesday evening (post-blog). A headache, annoying but not severe, hovering around my temples. It felt like a dehydration or caffeine withdrawal headache, except I’d been pounding water and I’d had a couple of cups of coffee that morning. That’s around the same time I started fantasizing in earnest about raiding the M&Ms we use as potty rewards for our youngest.


As every parent knows, there’s a special shame that comes with stealing from your kid. When, for example, you furtively eat the cookies that came with their kids’ meal at the restaurant the night before. The ones you took away amidst a tantrum of protest in the name of good health and the idea that they should eat the wholesome parts of their meal first. Maybe you promised they could have them later, maybe you pretended to throw them away, maybe you snatched them out of the meal before they saw them and told them the restaurant had run out of cookies. Maybe you even made a big speech about eating healthy and how cookies are for special treats, not a random Wednesday night after corn dogs or chicken nuggets. But now it’s Thursday morning and you’re eating them on the sly, in the car or maybe even hiding in the bathroom. You despicable hypocrite.


I haven’t done that, not this week anyway. I’ve resisted the M&Ms and the ubiquitous packet of gummy bears that always seems to be in our pantry even though I never buy them. (I think they’re reproducing in there – having sticky little gummy bear orgies.) I dug through the garage freezer looking for frozen bananas and didn’t stop to drool over the Girl Scout cookies. I even asked the waitress yesterday if the salsa had added sugar before digging in. I’ve been a rock of detoxification.


Trying to decide if I can fit a wine barrel in my purse.

Trying to decide if I can fit a wine barrel in my purse.


Until the wine.


When I decided to do the detox this week, I didn’t think about the fact that I’m going to a bachelorette party in the North Georgia mountains this weekend. We’re going to be visiting some wineries to do tastings, which is one of my favorite things to do at a winery. That and a good game of Vineyard Hide and Seek….


So I asked Meghan what to do. Is wine allowable when you’re off sugar?


Here’s what she said:



So, wine, made from a sweet fruit, does have some natural sugar content, but not a ton, especially when compared with beer. Beer is higher in carbs and sugar, so avoid this if possible. Obviously, ordering a club soda at a winery for a bachelorette party would be very boring – I get that! Try to stick with red wine. It has a lower sugar content. Champagnes and dry wine also have less sugar than sweeter wines or dessert wines (clearly, hence the name). 

On a whole, during a detox, it’s ideal to give your liver a vacation by avoiding alcohol. But in this case, sip on some red. :)

Soooo… that’s the plan. I’m not sure I’ve ever “sipped” anything in my life, but I’m going to give it a shot. I’ll let you know how it goes on Monday. And over the weekend, if you hear a desperate-sounding woman scream, “Just give me a full pour!” from somewhere in the North Georgia mountains, you’ll know already.



_______________________________________________


I’m M.J. (Manda) Pullen, an author and mom in the Atlanta, Georgia area. I blog about writing, publishing, parenthood, life and the many lessons I’ve learned the hard way. I drink too much wine and only occasionally steal cookies from my children.


If you enjoyed this blog, please follow along or join my Inner Circle monthly email list. At the end of each month I do random drawings with various prizes for list subscribers, the friends who refer them, and everyone who comment on the blogs. Good luck with that!


My current roster of books includes The Marriage Pact series, a trilogy of Contemporary Romance/Women’s Fiction novels. You can find them for all eBook formats and in paperback here.


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Published on March 28, 2014 04:15

March 26, 2014

Sugar Detox Day Three – Pantry of Doom

Passover is coming up in a few weeks, a time where Jewish households everywhere will scour their pantries, refrigerators and even freezers to root out all the chametz (usually defined as anything containing grain or leavening agents of any type, with the notable exception of matzah). It’s sort of a short, religiously-based Atkins diet.


Whatever chametz is not eaten by the time Passover starts will be donated to the poor, stored in separate part of the house, or ‘sold’ to non-Jewish friends, who typically ‘sell’ it back at the end of the holiday. So it’s usual that around this time of year, I begin to inventory what’s in the pantry so that we can eat as much pasta, bread, frozen bagels and pizza before the holiday as possible to get it out of the house. It’s sort of the opposite of the Atkins diet and as I write this I’m beginning to understand why I always feel swollen and chubby by the first night of Passover.


Since I’m already starting to avoid wheat and doing the sugar detox at the same time, I thought I’d take a couple of minutes this morning and pull some of the items from the pantry that have added sugar, just to see. There’s no direct relationship between chametz and added sugar, but I was just curious how many things I won’t be able to eat during the detox, and where that leaves us in terms of stocking up and paring down in preparation for Passover (and the overall movement toward healthful eating).


As I read the labels, I started pulling out things that surprised me with their sugar content. I pretty much skipped over anything in the pantry that would obviously have sugar in it. Maple & Brown Sugar oatmeal, yogurt-covered raisins,  etc. Those things are sweet, so of course they have some sugar in them. I would know without looking that I need to avoid them during the detox.  I did include the “healthy” Blueberry Morning cereal and the Clif Peanut Butter granola bar, not because they had any sugar, but because of how much (it was the third ingredient on the cereal and second on the granola bar). But, but… I bought that granola bar at Whole Foods!


Where’s Indiana Jones when you need him?


And that’s one of the things I noticed as I looked at the pile. (There was more in the pantry but I stopped in exasperation). I realized how many of these items I’d bought as healthy substitutes for other foods. Turkey Jerky (the plain kind, no flavor) was supposed to be a high-protein, low-fat snack. Fat free balsamic dressing. The Veggie sticks my kids have practically lived on since they started solid foods. The hummus chips and Terra veggie chips that I think of as healthy alternatives to potato chips or wheat crackers. The cans of beans I planned to use to make chili this week. Chicken broth. When I pull many of these foods from the pantry on a normal basis, I consider their salt content, but I don’t usually think of sugar. Okay, I wasn’t surprised by the sugar in the canned pasta and sauce (the corn syrup in the fat free ravioli did peeve me a bit), but the plain old beans and lentil soup really threw me off.


It seems that when we take the fat out of something, it’s often replaced by more sugar (or artificial sweeteners) to make up for missing taste. But maybe sometimes it’s better just to have a little fat (especially good fats like the olive oil in balsamic dressing) and feel satisfied. If you look at each food individually, the amount of sugar may seem negligible, or at least better than… say, a fresh-from-the-oven chocolate chip cookie. A cookie sounds amazing right now, by the way. I could do terrible, terrible things to that sleeve of Girl Scout Cookies I know is in the garage freezer. Damn those cute little girls and their delicious friggin’ cookies.


Okay. Wait. Where was I?  Oh yeah. If you view sugar, not just as a harmless packet of calories, but as an addictive substance; and you consider that each little amount of it leaves you craving more… well, no wonder I so often finish a meal only to begin fantasizing about dessert. Or the next meal. Or a meal made with dessert. Maybe some sugar is okay, in moderation, but when it’s in everything, how do you know when you’re being moderate? How many of my cravings for sweets are not random cravings, but actually withdrawals from sugar I didn’t realize I ate?


Ugh. Anyway. To end on a victorious note, I’m happy to say that I sat for nearly four hours at writing group last night with a plate of homemade chocolate oatmeal cookies sitting right under my nose and didn’t even touch them. Not a single, delicious crumb. That’s saying a lot, because I think this detox has heightened my sense of smell, almost like pregnancy would. By the end of the night I felt like I could basically deconstruct the recipe for the cookies by smell alone. To my writing group friends: if you caught me sitting too close, or sniffing your jacket or sweater inappropriately last night, it wasn’t you. It was totally the cookies.


_______________________________________________


I’m M.J. (Manda) Pullen, an author, mom and hard core sugar addict in the Atlanta, Georgia area. I blog about writing, publishing, parenthood, life and the many lessons I’ve learned the hard way. And I am absolutely not going down to the garage freezer for Girl Scout Cookies.


If you enjoyed this blog, please follow along or join my Inner Circle monthly email list. At the end of each month I do random drawings with various prizes for list subscribers, the friends who refer them, and everyone who comment on the blogs. Good luck with that!


My current roster of books includes The Marriage Pact series, a trilogy of Contemporary Romance/Women’s Fiction novels. You can find them for all eBook formats and in paperback here.


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Published on March 26, 2014 10:19

March 25, 2014

Sugar Detox Day Two – Harder than it Sounds

First off, I want to thank everyone for the support on my Sugar Detox adventure. Since last night’s post, I’ve been amazed at all the kind comments and private messages you guys have sent me. SO many people, women in particular, seem to have had similar and scary chest pain/ER experiences. Some of these turned out to be heart-related but many did not. It’s amazing how many different issues create that terrifying symptom — and as I commented to one friend, the ER is really only equipped to help you if it’s a heart attack or pneumonia or a gunshot wound. From there we become our own health detectives…


So far, the detox is going well. The hardest thing up until this point hasn’t been dealing with the symptoms or the cravings, but in actually avoiding the sugar. I got so mad yesterday morning when the very first, innocent thing I consumed for the day was a cup of coffee with almond milk… I’d bought a carton of unsweetened but had a tiny bit of regular left and BAM. Sugar. Didn’t even think about it until I had drunk half the cup. I tried some cinnamon almonds today that have never tasted sweet to me before and spit them out in my hand as I read the package. They don’t have sugar (yay!) but they have sucralose (that’s worse!). It seems our natural tastes have veered so far toward sugar, salt and fat that we can’t even eat normal, healthy stuff like almonds and cinnamon without chemically enhancing them with fake sugar.


Okay, okay, the beverage industry and my many friends who work at Coke (love you guys, I really do) can go ahead and start pounding me with all the stuff about artificial sweeteners being supposedly fine for you… and I’m going to do what I do with a super-drunk person at a cocktail party: nod, smile, and switch to water as I slooooowly walk away. They may not be universally bad for everyone (though I think the jury’s still out on that), but for me personally: they don’t taste good, don’t help with weight loss, and seem to wreak havoc with my system. It drives me crazy because they’re in everything, from drinks to yogurt to gum to the damn cinnamon almonds. Maybe I have a weird allergy or something. Yeah. Allergy. Please don’t leave a flaming Coke Zero on my front lawn! [Can you tell I got accosted by a beverage industry group on Twitter recently for re-posting one of Meghan's articles on fake sugar?]


Anyway, I have been noticing already what a slave I am to convenience when it comes to food. I don’t want to have to purchase raw ingredients straight from the farm and make my own goat’s milk ranch dressing at home in a cruet to keep all the crap out of my body. Who the heck has time for that? I also can’t drop $300 a week at Whole Foods for groceries, so the processed stuff IS easier and more affordable. It goes on sale! There are coupons! I love coupons!!!


And for a once-in-a-while choice when you’re in a rush, great. But I am noticing that I turn to fast food, quick carbs and processed crap way more often than I realized, even when I think I’m making a healthier choice. Who would think the Greek yogurt and dill dip in the produce section has sugar added? It does. Why? Are we such flavor-weenies that we can’t handle the taste of plain old yogurt without chocolate sauce and sprinkles?


I’ve overheard some commercials on TV from a company doing taste tests and advertising “Greek yogurt without the tart” (or something like that). Sorry. What? Greek yogurt is tart. It’s part of the charm. It’s what makes it different from, you know, non-Greek yogurt. It’s like  a rite of passage for dieters to learn to eat that stuff, and then brag to your friends that you eat it plain — without any of the wussy fruit compote chaser. Sort of like learning to drink straight bourbon, except you can still drop your kids off at school after you do it. I haven’t researched it because I have no idea which company that is — don’t tell me, I already have Coke mad at me, I don’t need gangs of roving yogurt executives showing up in the middle of the night flinging live and active cultures at my house — but I find it hard to imagine you can remove the “tart” from yogurt without adding sugar or some kind of sugar substitute. But that’s what people wanted, I guess…


Maybe taste-testing is part of the problem. I get why companies do taste-testing and why they want their products to taste the best. I used to work in marketing – I get that big time. Any advantage over a competitive product can mean the difference in a company’s survival – and the financial solvency of its workers, including that spunky redhead in marketing. But what about our survival? Never mind for a minute about carbs and fats and fiber: our bodies were designed to consume foods on a wide flavor spectrum, too – salty, sour, sweet and especially bitter (as in dark berries, nuts and leafy greens). Many cultures and naturalists believe that bitter flavors are critical for signaling good digestion and the bitter foods are often high in antioxidants. But in America, at least, we have moved heavily over to consuming sweet and salty things and left bitter and sour flavors in the dust. Just like when my two year old pushes all the fresh veggies around on his plate and devours the bread and cheese. It’s understandable, but that doesn’t mean it’s healthy.


So of course companies will add sugar and salt to everything. They’re natural preservatives and they make us want to eat more of their products. What’s to argue with?


MicrophonePhoto2

“Hi, I’m Manda, and I’m a Sugarholic. I guess my low point was when I woke up naked in a vat of chocolate ganache, next to a pastry chef I’d never met before…”


The problem for me, besides that it makes dieting harder and staying healthy far less affordable and manageable, is that I appreciate treats less when I get them. Everything I eat has already been finely tuned to optimize taste – sweet, salty, fatty or their shadow substances – and then I get used to those tastes. They don’t thrill me anymore, so when I want something sweet, I have to go for something with even more sugar and fat to satisfy that craving. A scoop of vanilla ice cream isn’t going to cut it – it’s too similar to that delicious yogurt I had this morning. Hit me with the brownie explosion! Why have a handful of nuts when you can dive into a bag of potato chips? It takes more and more of the stuff to give you the same happy effect, and then you feel terrible afterward, so you eat more of it to feel better… You can see why people are labeling this an addiction.


As I round out today’s blog, I’m becoming aware that I sound a lot more expert at all this than I really feel. You should know that all my talk about bitters and greens and the evils of sugar is mostly theoretical at this point. I’m trying to wrap my arms around a lifelong struggle and break myself of some terrible, careless eating habits in the process. I hope you find it helpful to share in the journey with me and that you’ll be sure to talk to Meghan and B.J. with any questions. (Don’t ask me. I once put Dr. Pepper and vanilla pudding mix into a batch of brownies. I have terrible judgment.)


I’m also becoming aware that I’d sure as heck better make this professional writing thing work, because I am ruling myself out as a job candidate for…. well, basically the entire food and beverage industry. What happened to that spunky redhead in marketing? :)


_______________________________________________


I’m M.J. (Manda) Pullen, an author, mom and hard core sugar addict in the Atlanta, Georgia area. When I’m not mainlining hot fudge, I blog about writing, publishing, parenthood, life and the many lessons I’ve learned the hard way.


If you enjoyed this blog, please follow along or join my Inner Circle monthly email list. At the end of each month I do random drawings with various prizes for list subscribers, the friends who refer them, and everyone who comment on the blogs. Good luck with that!


My current roster of books includes The Marriage Pact series, a trilogy of Contemporary Romance/Women’s Fiction novels. You can find them for all eBook formats and in paperback here.


 


 


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Published on March 25, 2014 13:22

March 24, 2014

Sugar Detox Day One – Why I’m Here (and Trying to Stay that Way)

My friend Meghan at Merge Into Health recently drugged me and forced me to sign up for convinced me to try her 10-Day sugar detox program. I’ve been trying off and on for years to eat better and lose weight, with only marginal success. Something always gets in the way: I slip and fall headfirst into a pizza, or I get trapped beneath a pile of groceries and the only way out is to eat my way through a bag of Oreos. Or I have a kid. Great for the heart and soul, not so hot for the waistline….


This looks like a healthful meal, but it's actually a ransom note to the family of the Rice Cakes demanding a bag of unmarked Oreos.

This looks like a healthful meal, but it’s actually a ransom note to the family of the Rice Cakes demanding a bag of unmarked Oreos or I’ll finish what I started…


Well, a couple of things have come up recently that are forcing me to take a more serious look at my weight and health. The miscarriages, I’ve written about. Not necessarily due to being overweight (I’m not that much heavier than when I got pregnant with the first two), but my doctor did mention it as a possible contributing factor. Also, there are the chest pains, which I haven’t written about until now. They started in mid-January, with an attack so bad I actually hauled myself to the ER for a few hours on an otherwise beautiful Sunday afternoon. That day and in the weeks that followed I was hooked up to many monitors and took many official-sounding cardiac tests, none of which concluded anything at all. But the chest pains remain. They come, they go. They come back and stay for a few hours, then go away for a day or two, then come back all tanned and refusing to tell me where they’ve been.


I’m almost positive I have ruled out panic attacks. I used to treat people for panic attacks and if I can’t recognize one when I have it, there’s something else really wrong with me. So, according to the experts (a.k.a. everyone I’ve talked to about it plus the Internet) that narrows it down to these possibilities: esophageal ulcers, reflux, asthma, stress, sore muscles, inflamed tissue, a heart valve that periodically collapses for no reason and then recovers (!!!), pneumonia, allergies, angina (the cardiologist says no on this one, but I’m keeping it in because it sounds like a stripper name – Ladies and gentlemen, on the Center Stage…. Angina Vena Cava Jones!!), clinched back muscles, food sensitivies, clinched chest muscles, over-caffeination, quivering pulse, and last but not least…. sugar addiction.


Thus, the sugar detox. Everything I’ve heard from my health conscious friends (I call anyone in my acquaintance who actually uses a gym membership or eats leafy greens ‘health conscious’) is that the amazing amount of sugar in our modern diets – from both sweets and the myriad foods processed with sugar – is killing us slowly in creative ways we haven’t even thought of yet. That’s right, Sugar is really a mystery novelist, murdering us for money. Whether you go in for all the granola-nut, gluten-free, kale-centric diet stuff or not, it’s hard to make an argument for sugar as a health food. And it’s hard to argue that we don’t consume an awful, awful lot of it. Just go to your pantry and see how many random non-sweet things have it added.


I did, and I cried, and then I told Meghan she was C-R-A-Z-Y over our bi-weekly breakfast. Whether I had a cream cheese muffin in my hand as I said this is unconfirmed. My philosophy has always been that I’d rather live an enjoyable life than a extra-long one. Seriously, I don’t want to live in a world without chocolate. If loving Reese’s pieces mixed with hot buttered popcorn is wrong, I don’t want to be right. So, I’ll die 45 minutes sooner. A Toblerone is worth it.


Of course, that was before I spent the afternoon attached to a heart monitor at the hospital and came home to write a letter to my children in case I didn’t survive the night.


I did survive the night, though, and I’ve survived many nights since. While I haven’t figured out what the chest pains are yet, I’m pretty sure I haven’t been having a heart attack for two months. Still, whatever it is, my weight isn’t helping. My diet isn’t helping. Sugar isn’t making my life better, and if there’s a chance that whatever’s going on for me is partly due to sugar addiction, I’m going to try to break the cycle.


So, today I started trying to rid myself of the White Powder for ten days. This includes anything made with added sugar: sweets, sauces, most pastas, most bread, salad dressing (seriously??) and lots more. I’ll try to share as I come across the more surprising ones. I’m guessing that this will make me pretty cranky at first, so I’m just going to go ahead and apologize in advance for Wednesday’s post.


The sugar thing is part of an overall move toward better diet and exercise. Since the chest pains started, I have also been trying to cut back on wheat (which does seem to make things worse) and to a lesser extent, dairy. I’m using Weight Watchers Online to watch my portion sizes on the non-sugary, non-wheat stuff that often tends to be fat-heavy. And of course, I’m Jazzercising my ass off (more on that coming soon).  I’ll keep you posted. Wish me luck!


And in the meantime, please feel free to post your own theories about my random chest pains in the comments. The more hair-brained and elaborate, the better….


_______________________________________________


I’m M.J. (Manda) Pullen, an author and mom in the Atlanta, Georgia area.  I blog about writing, publishing, parenthood, life and the many lessons I’ve learned the hard way. I totally was never going to be that person who talks about food all the time.


If you enjoyed this blog, please follow by signing up for the weekly RSS or my Inner Circle email list. Each month I do random drawings with various prizes for list subscribers, the friends who refer them, and those who comment on the blogs. Good luck with that!


My current roster of books includes The Marriage Pact series, a trilogy of Contemporary Romance/Women’s Fiction novels. You can find them for all eBook formats and in paperback here.


 


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Published on March 24, 2014 19:18

March 19, 2014

Corned Beef, Consignment Sales and Working from Home

CornedBeefCabbageandGuinness

Corned Beef and Cabbage: Where a semi-Celtic lass and Eastern European Jewish boy can always find common ground. And also, Guinness.


Happy St. Paddy’s – a couple of days late! This year I made corned beef and cabbage for the first time, and it was painfully delicious. Painful because, well, it’s not exactly health food, is it? But soooo good. I don’t know exactly where my ancestors are from (though I suspect many are from the Scottish Isles in truth). But with my red hair and ruddy complexion, I can pass for Irish, and on May 17th I often do. And as for Hubs, well, corned beef an cabbage is the better part of a Reuben, so there you go!


He and I have become a bit Celtophilic since we made a trip to Ireland a few years ago. We toured the Guinness brewery while we were there and it brings back fond memories every time we sip a pint. So if you didn’t get a chance to toast anyone Monday night, I’m holding up a glass right now. Slainte!


I’ve been swamped the last couple of days doing one of the most ridiculously time-consuming activities on the planet: preparing a bunch of used children’s items for a giant local consignment sale. That means I get to work for days straight washing, sorting, ironing, hanging, inventorying and tagging little individual shirts and pajama sets… only to realize after pulling an all-nighter that one of every three items has a stain, tear or damage that can only be seen in the morning light, and therefore has to be pulled and donated. Which is probably what I should have done with all these clothes anyway. I ran a quick calculation in my head and I figure I stand to make about 70 cents an hour with this project. For ironing.


I don’t iron my family’s clothes at any other time — my kids often go to preschool wearing clothes that look like they were fished from underneath the passenger seat of the van (which in my defense, is rarely true); but for that 70 cents, baby, I iron. It’s funny, I actually taught a class recently on time management and prioritizing high-value activities. If anyone in that class is reading this blog: do as I say, not as I do. :)


A small part of the inventory, still reeling from their first time under the iron.

A small part of the inventory, still reeling from their first time under the iron.


I do know many people who do those consignment sales regularly and actually do make it worth their time. (If you are one of those people, please share your delusions tips in the comments). Those people must be far more organized and efficient than I am. And maybe their kids don’t go sliding down the hill in the front yard on their knees every day like mine do. Perhaps there’s a gene I’m missing, which makes sorting and pinning little tags on clothes relaxing.


But if you’re like me, and work (for pay) from home, you know that every little activity that doesn’t directly involve either your business or time with your family had better make its value known, fast. We entrepreneurial types, who don’t have the accountability of a boss standing over us, have to ask ourselves “what does this cost?” every time something or someone wants our time. If I have lunch with a friend or go to Jazzercise, that equals two hours of non-work time, which could be up to 2,000 words not written. Which is okay in both those cases, because it’s good self-care and feeds my writing. But there are hundreds of less-valuable things pulling on me every day. There are things that I think I ‘can’ or ‘should’ do, because I work at home, which I would never consider doing if I worked at an office.


The trap I often fall into, being at home, is to compare myself with SAHPs (Stay at Home Parents). SAHPs are heroes in my eyes, and they do an amazing job I’ve only ever been able to partially embrace. Having done a little of both, I can say that the job of being an at-home parent is much harder than the job of being an at-home writer on almost every level. As an at-home parent, for example, you get far less free time than I do. On the other hand, when you do get some time to yourself, there is a bit more freedom to choose how you spend it. I’ve known at-home moms and dads who keep impeccable houses, who have organized every family memory into scrapbooks, who take on volunteer jobs at their kids’ schools every single week and pack perfect, healthful lunches. Parents who make it to the gym every single day, come hell or high water. Etc., etc., etc.


But I’ve never met a parent, at-home or otherwise, who could do all of those things successfully. Being a parent is stressful, hard, wonderful work. None of us are perfect at it, none of us can be the best at every aspect. Trying to produce income for your family on top of that adds another layer of challenge. And when you work at (or out of) your home, people tend to assume that your time is always free and flexible. They call for long chats in the middle of the afternoon, or ask for favors they wouldn’t ask of someone who clocked in at an office from 8 to 5. I love having the flexibility to be there for my friends and family; I’ve also learned that I have to set boundaries for myself around the blocks of time that I need to successfully write. Of course, I also block off times for my family during which I don’t touch my phone or computer so that they know how important they are, too.


On weekdays, I can (and do) take breaks for lunch and coffee with friends; I volunteer to help at the boys’ school once in a while (not “room mom” though – wow, that was a mistake!). And I’ll own it: I even occasionally run to the grocery store in the middle of the day while my kids are at school. Sometimes it really is nice to be able to get a cart full of groceries without once having to say “Let go of your brother’s head,” or “Take the plastic bag out of your mouth.”  But I also work at night after my family is asleep and in the morning before they wake up. I work weekends while the boys are playing in the yard with Hubs. I work whenever the opportunity presents itself. Because I can. Because I love it. Because every minute, every word, is an investment in my creative process and (fingers crossed) in my family’s future.


It’s all about choosing the activities that pay off for you. Now if you’ll excuse me, there are a thousand safety pins and wire hangers calling my name…


_____________________________________________________________________


I’m M.J. (Manda) Pullen, an author and mom in the Atlanta, Georgia area. When I’m not turning my home into a weird sort of voluntary sweatshop, I blog about writing, publishing, parenthood, life and the many lessons I’ve learned the hard way.


If you enjoyed this blog, please follow by signing up for the weekly RSS or my Inner Circle email list. Each month I do random drawings with various prizes for list subscribers, the friends who refer them, and those who comment on the blogs. Good luck with that!


My current roster of books includes The Marriage Pact series, a trilogy of Contemporary Romance/Women’s Fiction novels. You can find them for all eBook formats and in paperback here.


 


 


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Published on March 19, 2014 10:39