out of words

I finished a new novel last week, which means I’ve spend the past few days floundering…I started a poem last night and pulled up a couple of unfinished picture books but can’t find my flow—yet. I really need to work on my tendency to use busyness as a way to avoid serious reflection—and ACTION. I recently watched a series about a family coming undone (US on Masterpiece) and realized two things: 1) I revisit my own childhood trauma often when I’m writing, and 2) being proficient/productive can lure you into complacency when it comes to personal growth. My mother had her first major stroke when I was a toddler; she had a second stroke when I was in high school and I still remember the terror of not knowing what was going to happen. The novel I just finished has a little girl struggling with her great-aunt’s recent stroke; at first Ruby finds reasons to avoid her aunt but eventually she needs Ida’s help and so learns to accept her aunt’s limitations. I wrote another stroke victim into The Phantom Unicorn but this time around I wanted to include Ida’s recovery process. At first Ruby was being raised by a single mother, just as I was, but then I changed it to a single father. Which made me wonder how often I have two-parent families in my books…my parents’ divorce was traumatic for me and shaped my understanding/practice of family. I always try to include a range of family configurations in my books because every child doesn’t come from a “nuclear family.” But I rarely depict the kind of ideal family I wish I’d had as a kid…why? I was invited to a friend’s home on Friday—she cooked and talked and shared her own family history. And I was fascinated by how close-knit her family is but also a little disturbed. It was clear that she had reproduced her family culture in her own home/life and it was all too clear (to me) that I’ve done the exact same thing. I *never* have people over for dinner. A tea party, maybe, but those are rare. I’m happy to go out to meet folks at a restaurant—I met up with some Chicago kid lit authors last week and thoroughly enjoyed the three hours we spent at the pub. On Saturday I had tea at a friend’s home and found it reassuring to hear her reflect on her parents (deceased) and the way their values continue to show up in her own life. I suspect most of us look back on our lives and search for signs that we’ve become our parents somehow. In Us, I started out feeling sorry for the clueless husband desperately trying to hold his family together. But he kept having flashbacks that revealed he wasn’t clueless at all—he just kept making choices that alienated and/or hurt his wife and son. We didn’t learn anything about his parents but we could see all the ways his anxious, fussy, routine-loving personality made his artistic wife and son uncomfortable. He was so busy counting his steps and trying to keep everyone on (his) schedule that he missed opportunities to be spontaneous and emotionally present. Having a routine helps me manage my anxiety and my endless lists keep me on task; the pandemic didn’t diminish my productivity at all since crisis seems to activate my imagination. But I don’t want to leave lockdown without learning the lessons COVID has tried to teach us. As an introvert, my homebody life wasn’t terribly disrupted and I had the privilege of working remotely. But now the world is opening up again…so how will my “new” life be different? I’m serious about slowing down, setting boundaries and saying “no” more often; I took on a dozen gigs this month but I won’t take on anything else for the summer or fall. I have to start The Enchanted Bridge next week and I’ve got a couple other novels to finish. Moonwalking, A Song for Juneteenth, and The Witch’s Apprentice (look at our gorgeous cover!) are still in production and I’m waiting on feedback from my sensitivity readers. I can manage all of that; I have no trouble staying busy. But I think I’ll revisit Chani Nicholas’s Year Ahead astrological reading this week. We’re halfway through 2021 and no one knows how the second half of the year will unfold. Another surge caused by another variant? Am I ready to get back on a plane? If we’re meant to “build back better,” how will I improve myself and my life? Time to upset my routine, I think, and consider how to create in real life—not just in fiction—the family/home life I always wanted but never had. We can’t change the past but the future is up for grabs…so REACH!