I recently listened to Anne Lamott’s TED Talk about the 12 things she’s learned from life and writing. Anne says, “Go outside a lot and look up. My pastor said you can trap bees on the bottom of mason jars without lids because they don't look up, so they just walk around bitterly bumping into the glass walls. Go outside. Look up. Secret of life.” Last weekend, my husband and I went for a walk through a beautiful wooded area near our home. Twenty four hours earlier, I had learned that I am . . .
Years ago, my uncle and his family were in town for the holidays. We didn’t get to see this side of the family very often, so our time together was always too short but so sweet. It still is. I’ll never forget this particular visit because I very much irritated my dad by using a “nice” bath towel, rather than letting one of our guests use it. This was wildly confusing to me, mostly because I didn’t realize we had varying levels of bath towels, some of which were intended for specific people . . .
I hate peas. There, I said it. I cannot stand peas. I think they are disgusting, both on their own and mixed with other ingredients in a dish. A few weeks ago, I made a recipe that called for peas. Being the rule follower that I am, I bought a bag of peas and included them in the dish. That evening, while having dinner with my husband, I was complaining incessantly about how much the peas were ruining my entire culinary experience. “Why did you include them in the recipe?” My logical . . .
I arrived at the restaurant first and sat down at a table that gave me a view of the door, hoping I would recognize him when he walked in. It was our first date—a blind one. We had seen photos of each other and emailed back and forth, but this was the first time I would see him in the flesh. My nerves were frayed. When he walked in, I stood up, suddenly realizing that I hadn’t planned how I would greet him. Without much thought, I opened my arms wide as I stepped towards him. I imagine I . . .
Several weeks ago, I had my first conversation with a literary agent. A real literary agent! She had contacted me, inviting an introductory phone call, and I was just beside myself with excitement. I spent hours researching her and her agency before gathering questions and talking points for our call. When it came time to speak with her, I couldn’t have felt more prepared. The conversation was wonderful; we connected well within a steady flow of thoughtful questions and storytelling. If you . . .
My husband and I have a dog, Roger. He scares easily, hates being alone, and yawns more frequently than any living being I’ve ever met. We have big love for this little pup. However, one of the most miserable experiences to share with Roger is driving on the highway. He hates it. The car goes too fast, the noises are too loud, and there are no sufficient places to hide. When we make the 5-hour drive to visit our Chicago-area family, Roger’s anxiety takes up most of the space in our . . .