Weeds

I love metaphors and analogies and fortunately, so does my therapist. In the year and a half we've been working together, we've used comparisons to wheels, bicycles, tangled vines, seedlings, and prison visitor rooms. My favorite, though, is the one we came up with at my last session: weeding. (Which is odd, because yard work is my least favorite type of chore ever.)

Let me explain.

Photo by FoeNyx, via Wikimedia Commons.

Photo by FoeNyx, via Wikimedia Commons.

There are two basic ways to remove a weed from a garden: rip it off or dig it out. When you rip off the weed, you're removing only the top part of the weed. The roots remain, and the weed regrows. To truly remove the weed permanently, you need to dig it out--and dig deep under the root to make sure you remove the entire thing.

In essence, that's why I'm trying to do with my health.

In the past, I've focused only on losing weight. In essence, I was ripping off the top of the weed. The roots--the causes of my weight gain/overeating--remained. So of course, the weed regrew, and I gained the weight back.

This time around, I'm digging out the weed by its roots and damn, those roots are deep. This weed has been growing for decades. It's going to take a lot of work, a lot of dirt, and a lot of time to dig it out. The result, though, will be longer lasting: true health--physically, mentally, and emotionally.

The Story Behind the Story: Newton's Law

As a writer and a reader, I'm curious about where writers' ideas come from, in part because I'm always looking for new sources of inspiration for myself. My guess is that others share this curiosity. To that end, I've decided to supplement my monthly "Fiction First" stories with blog entries that explain the story behind the story, starting with this month's story.

The Prompt

"Newton's Law" is my first-ever attempt at a romance story, and I wrote because I had to. Last year, I was introduced to an outfit called NYC Midnight, which runs writing contests of various sorts throughout the year. Every contest--whether short story, flash fiction, or screenwriting--is based on prompts provided by NYC Midnight. It's one of the things I like about the contest: the prompts give me a starting point and help level the playing field. For the first round of the 2013 Flash Fiction Challenge, my prompt was to write a romance story that is set in an apple orchard and includes a fake mustache.

As is the case with every NYC Midnight contest, I spent the first few hours in a panic. (Did I mention the contests are timed? For the Flash Fiction Challenge, I had 2 days--one weekend--to write a 1,000 word story.) I had never written romance before. I had not read many romances, either. (A total of three--all written by my friend, Judy Genandt--if you don't count the romance novels we read aloud in the hallway during Finals Week my freshman year of college.)

Then there was the setting. I don't think I have ever been in an apple orchard in my life. If I have, it did not leave any kind of lasting impression. That was an easy fix, though, thanks to Saint Google. A few image searches later, I had an idea of what an apple orchard looks like and I started writing.

Writing the Story

The narrator's voice came quickly. I could hear her telling me her story, her voice dripping with sarcasm, and I simply took dictation. The title came quickly, too. I wanted to play on the apocryphal story of Isaac Newton and the apple falling on his head. (Hence, the apple farm sign and family name in the story.) The title, though, and the plot were inspired by Newton's other works--specifically, his laws of motion. Newton's First Law of Motion says that an object in motion stays in motion and an object at rest stays at rest, unless an outside force is applied to it. If ever a natural law applied to Jane's story, this was it.

Her story, initially, was more romantic comedy than romance. That was a problem. NYC Midnight considers romantic comedy and romance two different genres. If I submitted my story as written, it would have been dismissed by the contest judges.

So, another visit with Saint Google helped me differentiate between romance and romantic comedy. One revision later (narrator's sarcasm intact), my story was closer to meeting the mark--and my deadline was up. Story submitted.

The version over at Fiction First is a revised version of that original story, which placed 7th out of 27 in the contest.

Click here to read the story "Newton's Law."

Enough Already!

I hate this time of year. Not because it's winter. I LOVE winter (though, I admit, Mother Nature is testing my limits with this one). No, it's the locust-like swarm of diet ads that I detest. All that "New Year, New You" crap. I mean, what was wrong with the old me? Why is the "old" me suddenly unacceptable because it's a new year? Really, other than the date and perhaps having to buy a new calendar, what's so different?

Some diet ads really get my goat. This is what I imagine my goat looks like. Photo by George Chernilevsky, via Wikimedia Commons

Some diet ads really get my goat. This is what I imagine my goat looks like. Photo by George Chernilevsky, via Wikimedia Commons

The ads that really get my goat are the Special K ones. You know the ones: women get on scales that have sayings instead of numbers, and the tagline is "What will you gain when you lose?" And it has that earworm oo la la song. It's not the song or the tagline that irritates me the most, or the fact that they don't call their plan a diet when it clearly is, or how nutritionally unbalanced their plan must be (eating Special K products for at least 2/3 of your daily food intake can't be nutritionally balanced. Just read the ingredients and nutrition label on any one of their products!)

No, what irritates me is the not-so-subliminal message it sends. The scale used in the ads registers positive personality traits like joy and confidence instead of numbers. (Such a scale does exist, and if anyone wants to buy me one, I would graciously accept the gift.) The intimation is that a person can only acquire these traits by losing weight, that only thin people have these characteristics. And that pisses me off. Why is it unacceptable for an overweight person to be joyful, confident, inspired, inspiring? That's ludicrous!

The worst part is, I used to buy into that idea and not so long ago. I believed that good things I wanted had to be postponed until I lost a certain amount of weight. I remember being explicitly told, "No one wants to be friends with the fat girl" and "No one wants to date the fat girl." It's a sign of how far I've come in my journey (and a testament to the effectiveness of my therapist) that I don't believe that anymore. (Most days, anyway. Those ol' demons don't go away quietly. They still pop up their heads now and again.)

If anything, I'm learning the opposite is true: effective (as in healthy, long-lasting) weight loss requires joy and confidence and inspiration first. That's why I failed every time before and why this time around is taking so much longer (much to the frustration and impatience of certain medical professionals and family members). Before, it was all about weight and deprivation--but I still hated myself and felt unworthy, so whatever weight loss I achieved didn't stick and the effort didn't last. This time, I'm turning it around--focusing my efforts on feeling worthy and accepting myself and making healthier choices, not deprivation.

It's a slower, rockier road that certainly won't lead to a New Year's weight loss commercial, but it will eventually lead to a happier, healthier, more confident me and I won't need a scale to tell me when I get there.

A Bucketful O' Goodness

Way back in my previous life as a high school teacher, my mentor/teacher mom told me to keep a bucket. It didn't have to be an actual bucket. A large envelope, a paper bag, a file folder, a lunch box--any kind of container would do. Every time a student, parent, or other teacher wrote me a nice note or sent me a complimentary e-mail, I was to put it in the bucket. The bucket would become the collection of hope to get me through the ocean of crap that teachers must wade through to do their jobs.

I followed her instructions and kept a bucket. When I moved on from teaching, I took the bucket with me. When I began working in corporate America, I created another bucket: a secret file folder in my desk drawer. I carried that bucket with me from job to job. It was my reminder that even though corporate America sucks, there are good people and good times to be found there. I still have that file folder tucked away in a desk drawer in my home office.

When I became a freelancer, though, I stopped keeping a bucket. I'm not sure why. Being a freelancer can be just as frustrating and discouraging as any other job--with the added bonus of social isolation. You'd think a bucket would be a necessary tool. Apparently, I didn't. I forgot buckets of good things ever existed.

I was reminded by a link posted on Twitter. I read the post and thought, "What a great idea!" Two days later, I realized, "Hey! I used to do that!" (What can I say? My memory isn't what it used to be.) That was followed quickly by, "Why did I stop doing that?" and then, "I should do that again!"

Given the frustrations that seemed to dominate my 2013,  2014 seemed like the perfect time to revive the ol' bucket-of-goodness habit. I dug out a pile of personalized note paper from my years as a teacher, appropriated the dog's old treat jar (don't worry--he will still gets his treats, just not from a jar), and prominently displayed them in my living room. You know the idiom "out of sight, out of mind"? Well, if I don't SEE the bucket, I won't FILL the bucket. 

I'm not limiting this year's bucket to work stuff, either. I want to fill it with positive progress reports on my journeys to health. I want to fill it with notes about finding what I'm seeking. I want to fill it with achievement after achievement on the road to accomplishing my dreams. I want to fill it with reminders that my life is more than my work, because it's all too easy for me to forget that little dictum. Of course, if I get any compliments or positive feedback related to my work life, I will put them in the jar too. Work is, after all, part of my life and should be represented. I just want that representation to be proportional in a healthy, balanced way.

Now here's where you come in. I invite you to keep your own bucket of good things for 2014, but really, I need you to remind me to READ all the good things in my bucket on December 31st. Maybe even blog the highlights. What do you say? Are you in?

The Word of the Year

A few years ago, I gave up on the idea of New Year's resolutions. I never kept them. Sometimes that was because my goals were unrealistic, but usually it was because I forgot what they were. I replaced the resolution habit with a new one: a word--one word--that would guide me through the year as a motto or a theme.

The first year I did this, in 2012, I chose the word enjoy. At the end of the year, I was able to make a long list of things I enjoyed. The next year, last year, I chose the word strive, and boy, oh, boy, did I end up doing a lot of striving.

That experience led me to think very carefully about the word that would guide me through 2014. I thought about my hopes and goals and plans for the year. I thought about what I'd like to make a long list of at the end of the year, what I'd like to end up doing a lot of this year. I asked myself what word would best describe what I'd be doing during the year, anyway.

And that's how I ended up at my decision. My word for 2014 is:

seek

This year I am seeking:

  • a better balance between work and life
  • to fill the parts of my life that feel empty
  • to improve my self-care habits (eating, exercising, housekeeping, etc.)
  • the time, energy, and space to finish Draft 3 of the novel
  • the courage and skills to start querying literary agents
  • the time and resources to fix up my house so I can sell it (eventually)

What are you seeking this year?