Rebecca Mildren's Blog
September 7, 2022
Review of The Witch and the Tsar
The Witch and the Tsar is a retelling of the Baba Yaga myth, set in Russia during the dark times of Ivan the Terrible. Instead of the child-eating Baba Yaga of cautionary fairytales, though, our wonderfully relatable heroine Yaga is more akin to the unfairly vilified “witches” of actual history: a healer, a midwife, an eccentric loner—in short, a woman. But as the half-human daughter of the Russian motherhood goddess, she’s also more than that, and she’ll do anything to save her beloved country from the Tsar’s reign of terror.
On the historical side, this book is refreshingly well-researched and full of exacting detail, while on the fantasy side, it is peopled with the Slavic pantheon of gods, who under Gilmore’s deft hand become a deliciously fickle and impulsive bunch. For me, it was the perfect creative combination of history and myth, a unique and unpredictable tale.
One of the most satisfying aspects of this book, which I think puts it in the company of other brilliant historical fantasies like Wecker’s The Golem and the Jinni, Neville’s The Eight, and Harrow’s The Once and Future Witches, is its thought-provoking depth and well-developed themes. The hauntingly vivid prose, the tough choices, the authentic humanity, and the unvarnished inhumanity all combine to make a memorable story that rings true even for our times. It’s not a quick and shallow escapist read, but a meaningful narrative with flawed but impassioned characters that stick in the brain and continue to challenge you afterward.
That said, it’s not all doom and gloom. Yaga’s chicken-legged house, Little Hen, is a whimsical joy. There’s a saucy talking owl, a protective dire wolf, spying ravens, and a cackling swamp critter. There is romance, both triumphant and tragic. There are witchy potions and earth magic, alternate dimensions, and feisty forest animals. And of course, lots of cold and snow, not all of it with natural origins.
Fans of The Bear and the Nightingale/Winternight Trilogy are sure to love The Witch and the Tsar. In fact, I actually liked it much more. As someone with Slavic heritage myself who has lived in Russia and speaks Russian, I found Gilmore’s imaginative perspective truer to history, culture, and language. The book tends toward dark fantasy and doesn’t shy away from the gory brutality of Ivan’s demented war against his own citizens, in tormented-Russian-soul fashion, but also showcases the fiercely loyal, courageous love for one’s country and people that is the other, brighter side of this coin. The author’s expert grasp of her subject matter, as well as her passion for it, really shine through. Highly recommend.
*I received an ARC from the author
On the historical side, this book is refreshingly well-researched and full of exacting detail, while on the fantasy side, it is peopled with the Slavic pantheon of gods, who under Gilmore’s deft hand become a deliciously fickle and impulsive bunch. For me, it was the perfect creative combination of history and myth, a unique and unpredictable tale.
One of the most satisfying aspects of this book, which I think puts it in the company of other brilliant historical fantasies like Wecker’s The Golem and the Jinni, Neville’s The Eight, and Harrow’s The Once and Future Witches, is its thought-provoking depth and well-developed themes. The hauntingly vivid prose, the tough choices, the authentic humanity, and the unvarnished inhumanity all combine to make a memorable story that rings true even for our times. It’s not a quick and shallow escapist read, but a meaningful narrative with flawed but impassioned characters that stick in the brain and continue to challenge you afterward.
That said, it’s not all doom and gloom. Yaga’s chicken-legged house, Little Hen, is a whimsical joy. There’s a saucy talking owl, a protective dire wolf, spying ravens, and a cackling swamp critter. There is romance, both triumphant and tragic. There are witchy potions and earth magic, alternate dimensions, and feisty forest animals. And of course, lots of cold and snow, not all of it with natural origins.
Fans of The Bear and the Nightingale/Winternight Trilogy are sure to love The Witch and the Tsar. In fact, I actually liked it much more. As someone with Slavic heritage myself who has lived in Russia and speaks Russian, I found Gilmore’s imaginative perspective truer to history, culture, and language. The book tends toward dark fantasy and doesn’t shy away from the gory brutality of Ivan’s demented war against his own citizens, in tormented-Russian-soul fashion, but also showcases the fiercely loyal, courageous love for one’s country and people that is the other, brighter side of this coin. The author’s expert grasp of her subject matter, as well as her passion for it, really shine through. Highly recommend.
*I received an ARC from the author
November 17, 2018
The Almost Invisible Disability of Infertility
My apologies in advance for such a long post! But certain women celebrities have been opening up lately about their struggles to have children, whether their experiences suffering miscarriages (thank you, Michelle Obama), needing expensive and painful IVF, or being told they will never have a biological child, and I wanted to add my two cents to the mix. In the novel I'm currently working on, the main character also has to deal with infertility issues and the personal and interpersonal turmoil that comes with them.
I'm sure there are as many reactions to such trials as there are people who suffer through them, which run the gamut from extreme depression, to being content not to have children, to happily adopting, or eventually pushing through to have biological children anyway. Some women are comfortable sharing their struggles openly, while others prefer to remain silent.
Meanwhile, in writing a fictional historical character who faces an infertility issue, I want to say it's not my intent to critique or reflect anyone's personal reaction to their own similar trials, except perhaps my own. My hope is that the modern reader, should the novel ever be published (fingers crossed!), will extend me this benefit of the doubt, instead of railing against my attempt at portraying this complex issue, saying I should have done more to condemn outdated expectations that all women become mothers. Or that my character should have been better able to cope with her disappointment, because at heart, she's a feminist before her time.
Equally, I would like to take this opportunity to urge fertile women everywhere today not to pressure the infertile to accept their plight easily, because "the times have changed." Don't get me wrong, I'm happy childless women in the Western world are not shamed (as much) for not having fulfilled their supposedly central purpose as females, but the issue is much more complex than mere social expectations. There are also personal expectations and disappointments at play that have little or nothing to do with the broader social climate. And we can go even further and add those parents who are criticized for choosing to have small or large families, or even no children, as well as people who do not marry at all, and so on. As Paul wrote in one of his epistles, no one can know a person's thoughts except that person's own spirit. Passing judgment on the private struggles and decisions of others can only be hurtful.
Meanwhile, I would also like to ask people who have faced these struggles and are willing, to step out and share their stories more. At the end of the day, working through such private issues can be extremely isolating, as I know from experience, and besides spreading awareness of the available options today, it's comforting to know we are not alone. In this sense, yes, I wish the times would change faster, and the cultural inhibitions about discussing infertility or the conscious decision not to have children would just fall by the wayside.
In this spirit, I would like to share a little of my own hard path to motherhood, for those who haven't heard it. I married the love of my life when I was 23. We thought we'd wait two or three years, then start a family. Four kids would be perfect, I thought. My husband and I, each for our own personal reasons, had always maintained that we would rather have biological children than adopt. But the years passed, and I didn't get pregnant. Needless to say, this not only put a strain on my otherwise happy sex life, but I was also angry at God and depressed. Why give me not just the parts to bear children, but also the desire, if it wasn't to be? Especially when I was really, really not interested in adoption? (This is not to disparage adoption, which is a beautiful and precious thing. I can only bless and honor those who take that road, but it's not for everybody.)
At some point, my husband and I found ourselves living in Israel, which happens to be quite advanced in the area of treating infertility. Friends wondered why, if we wanted children, we weren't availing ourselves of modern technology. Honestly, we were completely ignorant of our options. We'd thought that everything had to end in IVF, an expensive and unnatural (to us) rigmarole that we weren't keen on. But in the end, we decided to be tested. My husband was cleared; the problem was me. I suffered from a variety of issues: vitamin B-12 deficiency, endometrial polyps, and I didn't appear to be ovulating. The first two issues were dealt with easily enough, with extra vitamins and a D&C; for the third, my doctor recommended hormone therapy.
I balked. I'd always been resistant to taking medicines that messed with my hormones, had never been a fan of the pill. I was already 32, but I decided I wanted to wait and see what nature and God might do. A year later, we celebrated our 10th anniversary, still not pregnant. I was nearing the deadline I'd set for myself and was about to go see my doctor about the hormone therapy, when I learned I was pregnant. In 2008, my first son was born. When we decided to try again for another child, it took a year and a half, but then I got pregnant, again naturally. I was almost 37 when my second son was born, and we decided that was blessing enough. This was how it worked out for us. Others, I know, face a much more difficult or devastating path. Some do not have the finances to pursue all the options available, or do not want to.
At the time, I did not feel that social expectations had played any role in my wanting children or the disappointment in apparently not being able to have them. However, today, when I look back, I see more clearly the part that society played in my case. Before I married, I never questioned whether I should or shouldn't want children. I just assumed I would have them and like it. Waiting a couple years to try sounded like a wise choice. Becoming a parent was just something everyone did. So before I could even mature enough to question my own future and what I really wanted, I had already gone down the path of depression over not being able to attain this thing I was certain I wanted.
I love my children. They are wonderful human beings, and I'm hopeful for the contribution they will make to the world. Having them has taught me many things, has stretched and strengthened me in ways I would not have been, otherwise. But they are also inconvenient. They are exhausting. Expensive. They have made me postpone or not do things in life that I would have liked. My body is definitely worse off since I had them. And so, if I am honest with myself as to whether I would have done it all over again, many days, the answer is "I'm not sure." At the same time, I'm glad the decision is not mine to go back and make over. Perhaps that makes me a bad mother, but in the end, mothers are not some supernatural Victorian angel of the house; they are only humans.
All this is to say, life is so much more complex than is convenient. In the end, it requires decisions of each of us that only we can make, and whose outcome isn't always predictable. Or as my novel's protagonist puts it: "The linear nature of life is desperately unfair. When you arrive at a fork in the road, you cannot know in advance which path will make you happier. You might look back on a decision and regret it for a lifetime, but you can never know whether you'd have regretted the other path more." What we can do, though, to make the difficulties of life easier to bear, is to be kind—both to ourselves, and others.
I'm sure there are as many reactions to such trials as there are people who suffer through them, which run the gamut from extreme depression, to being content not to have children, to happily adopting, or eventually pushing through to have biological children anyway. Some women are comfortable sharing their struggles openly, while others prefer to remain silent.
Meanwhile, in writing a fictional historical character who faces an infertility issue, I want to say it's not my intent to critique or reflect anyone's personal reaction to their own similar trials, except perhaps my own. My hope is that the modern reader, should the novel ever be published (fingers crossed!), will extend me this benefit of the doubt, instead of railing against my attempt at portraying this complex issue, saying I should have done more to condemn outdated expectations that all women become mothers. Or that my character should have been better able to cope with her disappointment, because at heart, she's a feminist before her time.
Equally, I would like to take this opportunity to urge fertile women everywhere today not to pressure the infertile to accept their plight easily, because "the times have changed." Don't get me wrong, I'm happy childless women in the Western world are not shamed (as much) for not having fulfilled their supposedly central purpose as females, but the issue is much more complex than mere social expectations. There are also personal expectations and disappointments at play that have little or nothing to do with the broader social climate. And we can go even further and add those parents who are criticized for choosing to have small or large families, or even no children, as well as people who do not marry at all, and so on. As Paul wrote in one of his epistles, no one can know a person's thoughts except that person's own spirit. Passing judgment on the private struggles and decisions of others can only be hurtful.
Meanwhile, I would also like to ask people who have faced these struggles and are willing, to step out and share their stories more. At the end of the day, working through such private issues can be extremely isolating, as I know from experience, and besides spreading awareness of the available options today, it's comforting to know we are not alone. In this sense, yes, I wish the times would change faster, and the cultural inhibitions about discussing infertility or the conscious decision not to have children would just fall by the wayside.
In this spirit, I would like to share a little of my own hard path to motherhood, for those who haven't heard it. I married the love of my life when I was 23. We thought we'd wait two or three years, then start a family. Four kids would be perfect, I thought. My husband and I, each for our own personal reasons, had always maintained that we would rather have biological children than adopt. But the years passed, and I didn't get pregnant. Needless to say, this not only put a strain on my otherwise happy sex life, but I was also angry at God and depressed. Why give me not just the parts to bear children, but also the desire, if it wasn't to be? Especially when I was really, really not interested in adoption? (This is not to disparage adoption, which is a beautiful and precious thing. I can only bless and honor those who take that road, but it's not for everybody.)
At some point, my husband and I found ourselves living in Israel, which happens to be quite advanced in the area of treating infertility. Friends wondered why, if we wanted children, we weren't availing ourselves of modern technology. Honestly, we were completely ignorant of our options. We'd thought that everything had to end in IVF, an expensive and unnatural (to us) rigmarole that we weren't keen on. But in the end, we decided to be tested. My husband was cleared; the problem was me. I suffered from a variety of issues: vitamin B-12 deficiency, endometrial polyps, and I didn't appear to be ovulating. The first two issues were dealt with easily enough, with extra vitamins and a D&C; for the third, my doctor recommended hormone therapy.
I balked. I'd always been resistant to taking medicines that messed with my hormones, had never been a fan of the pill. I was already 32, but I decided I wanted to wait and see what nature and God might do. A year later, we celebrated our 10th anniversary, still not pregnant. I was nearing the deadline I'd set for myself and was about to go see my doctor about the hormone therapy, when I learned I was pregnant. In 2008, my first son was born. When we decided to try again for another child, it took a year and a half, but then I got pregnant, again naturally. I was almost 37 when my second son was born, and we decided that was blessing enough. This was how it worked out for us. Others, I know, face a much more difficult or devastating path. Some do not have the finances to pursue all the options available, or do not want to.
At the time, I did not feel that social expectations had played any role in my wanting children or the disappointment in apparently not being able to have them. However, today, when I look back, I see more clearly the part that society played in my case. Before I married, I never questioned whether I should or shouldn't want children. I just assumed I would have them and like it. Waiting a couple years to try sounded like a wise choice. Becoming a parent was just something everyone did. So before I could even mature enough to question my own future and what I really wanted, I had already gone down the path of depression over not being able to attain this thing I was certain I wanted.
I love my children. They are wonderful human beings, and I'm hopeful for the contribution they will make to the world. Having them has taught me many things, has stretched and strengthened me in ways I would not have been, otherwise. But they are also inconvenient. They are exhausting. Expensive. They have made me postpone or not do things in life that I would have liked. My body is definitely worse off since I had them. And so, if I am honest with myself as to whether I would have done it all over again, many days, the answer is "I'm not sure." At the same time, I'm glad the decision is not mine to go back and make over. Perhaps that makes me a bad mother, but in the end, mothers are not some supernatural Victorian angel of the house; they are only humans.
All this is to say, life is so much more complex than is convenient. In the end, it requires decisions of each of us that only we can make, and whose outcome isn't always predictable. Or as my novel's protagonist puts it: "The linear nature of life is desperately unfair. When you arrive at a fork in the road, you cannot know in advance which path will make you happier. You might look back on a decision and regret it for a lifetime, but you can never know whether you'd have regretted the other path more." What we can do, though, to make the difficulties of life easier to bear, is to be kind—both to ourselves, and others.
February 4, 2017
Between the Reality and the Dream
Sad to say, but my immediate reaction to the "reach for your dreams" and the "you can achieve whatever you set your mind to" mantra of Disney movies and Facebook memes is to cynically shake my head. Why set people, kids especially, up to fail? Be realistic! I feel like shouting. Very few people ever realize their dreams!
And yet, I am one of the biggest dreamers and accomplishers I know. Sometimes I push myself too hard. This month, I am thankful that my chosen workload did not end in a nervous breakdown. Sometimes it does, and I am forced to stare my limitations in the face. I hate it when that happens.
But the facts of the matter are: All humans might aspire to greatness in some way, but we all have only so many hours in a day. We all have only so many personal resources we can put to use. We all are not equally gifted in all areas.
Point in case: Malcolm Gladwell has said you can master any skill if you put in 10,000 hours of practice. Scientists have supposedly debunked that assertion. Still, it's a heady delusion we humans thirst to espouse. I can do anything! I can be anything! Then we go watch a TV show or scroll through Facebook posts instead.
Honestly, I have not taken well to parenthood. I never realized how much time, energy, and grit-your-teeth-you-can-do-this it takes. And because parenthood isn't my only dream in life, I often feel trapped between the urge to be the ideal parent I know I could be if that was the ONLY thing I did in life, and the inner urge to do more. Be more.
Besides being a mother, I am also a wife. A daughter. An aunt. I am a writer. An artist. A musician. I am a Christian. A philanthropist. A philosopher. The list goes on. I suppose it's time for the pebbles-sand-jar don't-always-put-the-biggest-priorities first analogy, but instead, here's my personal pep-talk for today, as I look back on a month of WAY too much overtime:
1) When I feel like I'm stuck focusing only on one area of life for a while, it's good to remember that there are seasons to life. In a certain season, we can concentrate more on one aspect of ourselves, while leaving others on the backburner. Those aspects of us aren't dead, unless it's time to move on, and even then, those aspects we've developed will forever be a part of us. Even an Olympic figure skater or gymnast who devotes virtually every waking hour to her craft for years on end eventually gets married. Has children. Starts a business. Does something else with her time.
2) Instead of feeling paralyzed by my inability to be doing what I'd like to be doing, I can accept that I am a limited human being. Yes, I can get in shape, write a book, be an awesome mom, get involved with community outreach, do an excellent job in my work, and be a gourmet chef. But I cannot do that all at once, and that's OK. So, yes, today the kids ate dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets, and I worked on my writing craft. Another day, I'll cook a delicious and nutritious meal for them. We'll get out of the house and go on a trip. Just because I can't be and do all things at once doesn't mean I should let discouragement rule or throw in the towel in any of those areas.
3) I should not see reliance on outside resources as a failure. While I've had a very busy month, my super-supportive husband has helped pick up the slack with housework and the kids and has done his utmost to put a buffer between me and any energy-sapping distractions. I can choose to feel like I've failed my family, or I can choose to be grateful for the love and support I've been given. No one reaches their dreams all on their own.
And yet, I am one of the biggest dreamers and accomplishers I know. Sometimes I push myself too hard. This month, I am thankful that my chosen workload did not end in a nervous breakdown. Sometimes it does, and I am forced to stare my limitations in the face. I hate it when that happens.
But the facts of the matter are: All humans might aspire to greatness in some way, but we all have only so many hours in a day. We all have only so many personal resources we can put to use. We all are not equally gifted in all areas.
Point in case: Malcolm Gladwell has said you can master any skill if you put in 10,000 hours of practice. Scientists have supposedly debunked that assertion. Still, it's a heady delusion we humans thirst to espouse. I can do anything! I can be anything! Then we go watch a TV show or scroll through Facebook posts instead.
Honestly, I have not taken well to parenthood. I never realized how much time, energy, and grit-your-teeth-you-can-do-this it takes. And because parenthood isn't my only dream in life, I often feel trapped between the urge to be the ideal parent I know I could be if that was the ONLY thing I did in life, and the inner urge to do more. Be more.
Besides being a mother, I am also a wife. A daughter. An aunt. I am a writer. An artist. A musician. I am a Christian. A philanthropist. A philosopher. The list goes on. I suppose it's time for the pebbles-sand-jar don't-always-put-the-biggest-priorities first analogy, but instead, here's my personal pep-talk for today, as I look back on a month of WAY too much overtime:
1) When I feel like I'm stuck focusing only on one area of life for a while, it's good to remember that there are seasons to life. In a certain season, we can concentrate more on one aspect of ourselves, while leaving others on the backburner. Those aspects of us aren't dead, unless it's time to move on, and even then, those aspects we've developed will forever be a part of us. Even an Olympic figure skater or gymnast who devotes virtually every waking hour to her craft for years on end eventually gets married. Has children. Starts a business. Does something else with her time.
2) Instead of feeling paralyzed by my inability to be doing what I'd like to be doing, I can accept that I am a limited human being. Yes, I can get in shape, write a book, be an awesome mom, get involved with community outreach, do an excellent job in my work, and be a gourmet chef. But I cannot do that all at once, and that's OK. So, yes, today the kids ate dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets, and I worked on my writing craft. Another day, I'll cook a delicious and nutritious meal for them. We'll get out of the house and go on a trip. Just because I can't be and do all things at once doesn't mean I should let discouragement rule or throw in the towel in any of those areas.
3) I should not see reliance on outside resources as a failure. While I've had a very busy month, my super-supportive husband has helped pick up the slack with housework and the kids and has done his utmost to put a buffer between me and any energy-sapping distractions. I can choose to feel like I've failed my family, or I can choose to be grateful for the love and support I've been given. No one reaches their dreams all on their own.
January 20, 2016
The Parenting Advice Dilemma
So, I've seen a lot of posts going around promoting parenting author Leonard Sax's new book, "The Collapse of Parenting: How We Hurt Our Kids When We Treat Them Like Grown-Ups."
I haven't read the book, nor do I intend to, but in one quote I've seen, he states: "Most American parents are completely confused and going utterly in the wrong direction…. There's a collapse of understanding what parenting involves." Whoa… MOST? Sorry, pal, you've already lost me with that blanket statement. Even if you now present me with select statistics and studies, I can't trust that you are presenting anything greater than your own opinion. Kids are fatter today than in generations past? I'd be much more easily convinced this is due to the junk that is so prevalent in food today than due to lax parenting.
I'm sure I'm going to get some flak for this, but who says a return to the authoritarian-style family--which is probably the root cause for the pendulum swinging in the opposite direction that has produced today's supposedly flawed parenting styles--is the answer to all of our children's ills? So what if our kids grow up to be selfish brats who know how to use a smartphone and assert themselves--isn't that the basis of capitalism? Is the human race really going to cease to exist because I didn't make my kid eat his peas and because I actually sat down with him to help him on his piles of homework? Get real. We won't know the effects of today's parenting issues until our kids grow up. However, we do know the effects of parenting past. More on that in a bit.
Now, I'm not advocating the uber-spoiling of children. Obviously, kids need adults who adult most of the time, with healthy boundaries and all that. But every parent has bad days, whether you're a stay-at-home parent or a working parent, like I am. Single parents have it particularly hard, in my opinion. But we all want what's best for our kids. Yet who gets to define what is best? Personally, I'm not convinced of the frightening epidemic Sax warns about, with most parents today being total idiots. In his profession, I guess he gets to see a lot of the problem cases. But I don't actually know anyone who coddles their kids to their hurt on a regular basis. However, I do know plenty of kids from my generation, raised with the hierarchal situation Sax encourages in which the parent is the bad guy all the time, who would be labeled more or less a failure at life today or who have little to no relationship with their parents. If there really is a parenting problem running rampant in the US, I would say to the Sax's baby boomer generation that's so retroactively full of advice: Back at ya. We didn't all get to be like this in a vacuum.
Sax's patients and the odd parent aside, it's not more or better advice that the current generation of parents needs. Heaven knows we are inundated with it, day in and day out, much more so than parents were 50 years ago. And books like this only serve to emphasize the total loss of core family, extended family, and community connection in our day and age. If it takes a village to raise a child, an expert in a distant city isn't the best substitute. But even with the best possible support group surrounding a new parent, unfortunately every kid is an experiment. Face it: What worked with one might not work with another. What works with one family won't work with another family. And times do change.
Instead of one-size-fits-all advice from Tiger Moms and Lion Dads and Leonard Saxes, from which we each pick our favorite and smugly say: Yeah, those other parents are SO doing it wrong, how about we come together as a society? You want someone to listen to your advice? Lead by example. Extend a bit more acceptance to struggling parents. Listen to them. Show some love and concern by being there for friends and family when they need it. Don't contribute to the anxiety complex they're developing due to the massive sludge of parenting advice that comes across social media every day. Honestly, if you're my friend, I don't need any more worry or guilt piled on me because I really wanted a break one day and let my kid watch an extra hour of TV.
I haven't read the book, nor do I intend to, but in one quote I've seen, he states: "Most American parents are completely confused and going utterly in the wrong direction…. There's a collapse of understanding what parenting involves." Whoa… MOST? Sorry, pal, you've already lost me with that blanket statement. Even if you now present me with select statistics and studies, I can't trust that you are presenting anything greater than your own opinion. Kids are fatter today than in generations past? I'd be much more easily convinced this is due to the junk that is so prevalent in food today than due to lax parenting.
I'm sure I'm going to get some flak for this, but who says a return to the authoritarian-style family--which is probably the root cause for the pendulum swinging in the opposite direction that has produced today's supposedly flawed parenting styles--is the answer to all of our children's ills? So what if our kids grow up to be selfish brats who know how to use a smartphone and assert themselves--isn't that the basis of capitalism? Is the human race really going to cease to exist because I didn't make my kid eat his peas and because I actually sat down with him to help him on his piles of homework? Get real. We won't know the effects of today's parenting issues until our kids grow up. However, we do know the effects of parenting past. More on that in a bit.
Now, I'm not advocating the uber-spoiling of children. Obviously, kids need adults who adult most of the time, with healthy boundaries and all that. But every parent has bad days, whether you're a stay-at-home parent or a working parent, like I am. Single parents have it particularly hard, in my opinion. But we all want what's best for our kids. Yet who gets to define what is best? Personally, I'm not convinced of the frightening epidemic Sax warns about, with most parents today being total idiots. In his profession, I guess he gets to see a lot of the problem cases. But I don't actually know anyone who coddles their kids to their hurt on a regular basis. However, I do know plenty of kids from my generation, raised with the hierarchal situation Sax encourages in which the parent is the bad guy all the time, who would be labeled more or less a failure at life today or who have little to no relationship with their parents. If there really is a parenting problem running rampant in the US, I would say to the Sax's baby boomer generation that's so retroactively full of advice: Back at ya. We didn't all get to be like this in a vacuum.
Sax's patients and the odd parent aside, it's not more or better advice that the current generation of parents needs. Heaven knows we are inundated with it, day in and day out, much more so than parents were 50 years ago. And books like this only serve to emphasize the total loss of core family, extended family, and community connection in our day and age. If it takes a village to raise a child, an expert in a distant city isn't the best substitute. But even with the best possible support group surrounding a new parent, unfortunately every kid is an experiment. Face it: What worked with one might not work with another. What works with one family won't work with another family. And times do change.
Instead of one-size-fits-all advice from Tiger Moms and Lion Dads and Leonard Saxes, from which we each pick our favorite and smugly say: Yeah, those other parents are SO doing it wrong, how about we come together as a society? You want someone to listen to your advice? Lead by example. Extend a bit more acceptance to struggling parents. Listen to them. Show some love and concern by being there for friends and family when they need it. Don't contribute to the anxiety complex they're developing due to the massive sludge of parenting advice that comes across social media every day. Honestly, if you're my friend, I don't need any more worry or guilt piled on me because I really wanted a break one day and let my kid watch an extra hour of TV.
August 27, 2015
Conflict and Stakes
So as some of you know, I've gotten into writing novels in the last few years. I just have to say that writing is great! But writing query letters, not so much. Much easier said than done. But apparently, I have their summary's Hook, Setup, Conflict, and Stakes components stuck on the brain, because I awoke this morning to a tension-steeped dream.
In my dream, I'm on vacation with family, at a summer home rental. My husband and parents have gone off somewhere, I think to stand in a long line and buy tickets for something, while I'm left with our two boys. Innocent enough of a start, no? But then it begins to rain and the house starts to flood! Meanwhile, there's no food in the house and the kids haven't eaten anything so I need to get to the store to buy something and then cook it for them (chicken curry had been the plan in the dream). Before I can go to the store, a random handsome stranger shows up and offers to fix the leak in the ceiling/roof (in the dream it's pretty much the same thing: just a gaping hole that's letting the rain in). And with no ulterior motive other than to ask to borrow a vest? I'm not buying that.
But then, word comes over my phone that everyone near the river (that's us) has to evacuate because a typhoon is coming. (Don't hate; it's my dream.) So the stakes are pretty clear: If I don't get some food into my kids, THEY WILL STARVE TO DEATH, only after half-killing me with whining and worse, proving me to be a bad mom and bad planner (gasp!). But if I don't skip dinner plans and leave with the handsome stranger and flee to safety now, WE COULD ALL DIE! But if I leave now, I MIGHT NEVER KNOW what has happened to my husband and parents. Where the heck are they, anyway?! And WHAT WILL THEY THINK when they find out I've run off with a stranger and left them high and dry? See? The story's just oozing tension! Not sure about you, but if this was a back-of-the-book cover and I were into natural disaster-suspense books, I'd buy it.
So anyway, in case you want to know what happened next in the dream, I decide the house is no longer viable as a place to cook dinner anyway; we're practically having to swim. But my indecision has raised the stakes: We're in even greater danger now and I might have doomed not just us, but this innocent stranger, too. Or is he not-so-innocent? After a humorous aside involving a raccoon the size of a wolf and an introverted but adventurous hedgehog who rides him (no idea where that came from), I take the kids and drive away with the stranger. We come to a place where we have to ford the river. (It was the Santa Fe in my dream. That's right. It's MY dream.) I have just about swum across with my youngest child, with the stranger and the older child left on the river bank behind us when…
My older child woke me up. Gah! And there you have it: Hook, Setup, Conflict, and Stakes. Now I'm going back to working on my query letter. If you know what was going to happen in my dream, please let me know!
In my dream, I'm on vacation with family, at a summer home rental. My husband and parents have gone off somewhere, I think to stand in a long line and buy tickets for something, while I'm left with our two boys. Innocent enough of a start, no? But then it begins to rain and the house starts to flood! Meanwhile, there's no food in the house and the kids haven't eaten anything so I need to get to the store to buy something and then cook it for them (chicken curry had been the plan in the dream). Before I can go to the store, a random handsome stranger shows up and offers to fix the leak in the ceiling/roof (in the dream it's pretty much the same thing: just a gaping hole that's letting the rain in). And with no ulterior motive other than to ask to borrow a vest? I'm not buying that.
But then, word comes over my phone that everyone near the river (that's us) has to evacuate because a typhoon is coming. (Don't hate; it's my dream.) So the stakes are pretty clear: If I don't get some food into my kids, THEY WILL STARVE TO DEATH, only after half-killing me with whining and worse, proving me to be a bad mom and bad planner (gasp!). But if I don't skip dinner plans and leave with the handsome stranger and flee to safety now, WE COULD ALL DIE! But if I leave now, I MIGHT NEVER KNOW what has happened to my husband and parents. Where the heck are they, anyway?! And WHAT WILL THEY THINK when they find out I've run off with a stranger and left them high and dry? See? The story's just oozing tension! Not sure about you, but if this was a back-of-the-book cover and I were into natural disaster-suspense books, I'd buy it.
So anyway, in case you want to know what happened next in the dream, I decide the house is no longer viable as a place to cook dinner anyway; we're practically having to swim. But my indecision has raised the stakes: We're in even greater danger now and I might have doomed not just us, but this innocent stranger, too. Or is he not-so-innocent? After a humorous aside involving a raccoon the size of a wolf and an introverted but adventurous hedgehog who rides him (no idea where that came from), I take the kids and drive away with the stranger. We come to a place where we have to ford the river. (It was the Santa Fe in my dream. That's right. It's MY dream.) I have just about swum across with my youngest child, with the stranger and the older child left on the river bank behind us when…
My older child woke me up. Gah! And there you have it: Hook, Setup, Conflict, and Stakes. Now I'm going back to working on my query letter. If you know what was going to happen in my dream, please let me know!
April 10, 2015
I blame it on the marketers
Every day, it seems, we either discover something new that we indulge in but is bad for us, or some sort of cultural or social expectation or phenomenon that isn't healthy. But whether it's the amount of junk food Americans eat, our hang-ups about being too skinny or too fat, or our concern over the government being run by big money, I say: Blame it on the marketing experts.
If there's one thing that has struck me as way out of hand today in America compared to when I left it over 20 years ago, it's that marketing runs American culture now much more than it did when I was a kid. There's a huge amount of science and money behind it, if you didn't know, and the effects are impossible to avoid unless you live in a cave.
Take holidays, for example. They have transformed from cultural events into excuses for blatant consumerism for which there is a certain type of candy, certain types of necessary gifts, and so on. Why? So companies can make money, of course. It didn't used to be this way. I didn't used to buy Lindt bunnies on Easter (though they're delicious!). Maybe I made cookies at Christmas and ate candy corns on Halloween and bought those message hearts on Valentine's Day as a kid, but nothing on the scale of what I'm seeing today. Worse, because, like a lemming, the average American has followed the herd over the cliff, it's impossible to escape this marketing-imposed culture of buy, buy, buy to have the right holiday. As a parent, I'm confused: Should my kids miss out on this marketing-imposed culture just because I'm philosophically opposed? Or do I go along with the herd?
As someone who isn't perfectly thin, I can't help but welcome certain clothing brands' campaigns to offer stylish larger sizes or to present curves as sexy. "I'm no angel" is Lane Bryant's current not-so-subtly anti-Victoria's Secret ad campaign. Some people might think: Hurray, culture is coming back around to a healthy attitude about weight. Maybe. But at best, it seems to me that the marketing experts are just jumping on the cash bandwagon, dragging us behind them. Don't be fooled, oh curvy person, that clothing companies want you to feel good about yourself. They just want your money! They're no different than the fast food or junk food or cheap food companies who sold you unhealthy food in the first place!
Each company brands itself differently, of course. Shopping at Walmart, you can "spend less, live better," for example. Meanwhile, the cheap clothing or toys you bought there or elsewhere might be providing a livelihood for families in developing countries. Or, they might have been produced in near slave-labor conditions. Is that what you really want? Of course not. But the marketing experts know that you want to live better for less, so that's what you're sold.
It's gotten so bad that Super Bowl ads are a cultural phenomenon in and of themselves! People are encouraged to look forward to them and watch them again and again on YouTube. For Pete's sake!!!! Wake up, people! You've been duped into allowing marketers to shape your lives!
Unfortunately, I don't have an answer on how to avoid getting sucked into this mind-numbing vortex. It's hard for me, because when I lived in other countries, I looked for ways to blend in. I enjoyed learning about and participating in the local culture. But the longer I live here in the US, the less convinced I am that I should be participating in all of the American culture of today. It seems imposed from without instead of generated from within, and that concerns me.
If there's one thing that has struck me as way out of hand today in America compared to when I left it over 20 years ago, it's that marketing runs American culture now much more than it did when I was a kid. There's a huge amount of science and money behind it, if you didn't know, and the effects are impossible to avoid unless you live in a cave.
Take holidays, for example. They have transformed from cultural events into excuses for blatant consumerism for which there is a certain type of candy, certain types of necessary gifts, and so on. Why? So companies can make money, of course. It didn't used to be this way. I didn't used to buy Lindt bunnies on Easter (though they're delicious!). Maybe I made cookies at Christmas and ate candy corns on Halloween and bought those message hearts on Valentine's Day as a kid, but nothing on the scale of what I'm seeing today. Worse, because, like a lemming, the average American has followed the herd over the cliff, it's impossible to escape this marketing-imposed culture of buy, buy, buy to have the right holiday. As a parent, I'm confused: Should my kids miss out on this marketing-imposed culture just because I'm philosophically opposed? Or do I go along with the herd?
As someone who isn't perfectly thin, I can't help but welcome certain clothing brands' campaigns to offer stylish larger sizes or to present curves as sexy. "I'm no angel" is Lane Bryant's current not-so-subtly anti-Victoria's Secret ad campaign. Some people might think: Hurray, culture is coming back around to a healthy attitude about weight. Maybe. But at best, it seems to me that the marketing experts are just jumping on the cash bandwagon, dragging us behind them. Don't be fooled, oh curvy person, that clothing companies want you to feel good about yourself. They just want your money! They're no different than the fast food or junk food or cheap food companies who sold you unhealthy food in the first place!
Each company brands itself differently, of course. Shopping at Walmart, you can "spend less, live better," for example. Meanwhile, the cheap clothing or toys you bought there or elsewhere might be providing a livelihood for families in developing countries. Or, they might have been produced in near slave-labor conditions. Is that what you really want? Of course not. But the marketing experts know that you want to live better for less, so that's what you're sold.
It's gotten so bad that Super Bowl ads are a cultural phenomenon in and of themselves! People are encouraged to look forward to them and watch them again and again on YouTube. For Pete's sake!!!! Wake up, people! You've been duped into allowing marketers to shape your lives!
Unfortunately, I don't have an answer on how to avoid getting sucked into this mind-numbing vortex. It's hard for me, because when I lived in other countries, I looked for ways to blend in. I enjoyed learning about and participating in the local culture. But the longer I live here in the US, the less convinced I am that I should be participating in all of the American culture of today. It seems imposed from without instead of generated from within, and that concerns me.
March 24, 2015
A mom in the land of the free
For the most part, I'm a color-inside-the-lines sort of person. That is, when I do color outside the lines, I need a million rationalizations for it. Too much of a control freak. So anyway, when I saw that Senator Cruz had announced his bid for presidential candidacy, with a campaign focus on individual liberty, it got me thinking.
Here is one of the issues that my husband and I struggle with, perhaps especially because we're repatriates trying to understand America after living outside it for nearly 20 years: Like many states, my newly adopted state doesn't legally define child neglect or endangerment. There's no set definition for the age a child can stay at home or go to the park unsupervised. Which is great, right? Very American. I grew up as a free-range kid myself. I read an article this week http://www.businessinsider.com/this-f... that says that in 1979, kids in first grade were expected to try to write a few letters but also to be able to go four to eight blocks on their own. I used to walk 10 blocks to my elementary school.
But times seem to have changed, and laws haven't necessarily kept track. We still cling to the idea of America as the land of the free and home of the brave when that's not necessarily the case. In one of the countries where I lived overseas, the age a child can cross a street by himself, babysit a sibling, or babysit someone else's kids was defined by law. It makes it easy for parents: You know when you're stepping over the line. But here in America, it seems like every day, there's some new heart-wrenching story in the media of a good mom who left her kid in a car for five minutes to run into the store, or who lets her kids walk to the park by themselves, and then has Child Protective Services called on her, resulting in heartbreak and legal hassles for the whole family because the laws are so open to interpretation. My family lives in a low-traffic residential neighborhood, but honestly, I'm terrified to let my 7-year-old ride his bike around the block. Not because I fear for his safety, but because I'm worried some well-meaning neighbor will turn us in for an amorphous, ambiguous, subjectively-defined neglect or abandonment or endangerment clause. OK, maybe I'm paranoid and read too much news, but theoretically, this could happen, right? Even in Montana.
So while I'm all for individual liberties, it's tempting to wish for clearly defined boundaries. But if, as some of my libertarian friends would probably say, it's not more regulations that we need, and if America doesn't want to have the age of unsupervised activities for children defined for it, along with everything else, then please, Senator Cruz and our other legislators, come up with a better solution than what we currently have. If we're not going to regulate ourselves to death, that's fine by me; but then I want to know my individual liberties are better protected than they appear to be so I don't have to live in fear. It would be nice if I actually felt free to make sound judgment calls regarding my children without having to look over my shoulder.
Here is one of the issues that my husband and I struggle with, perhaps especially because we're repatriates trying to understand America after living outside it for nearly 20 years: Like many states, my newly adopted state doesn't legally define child neglect or endangerment. There's no set definition for the age a child can stay at home or go to the park unsupervised. Which is great, right? Very American. I grew up as a free-range kid myself. I read an article this week http://www.businessinsider.com/this-f... that says that in 1979, kids in first grade were expected to try to write a few letters but also to be able to go four to eight blocks on their own. I used to walk 10 blocks to my elementary school.
But times seem to have changed, and laws haven't necessarily kept track. We still cling to the idea of America as the land of the free and home of the brave when that's not necessarily the case. In one of the countries where I lived overseas, the age a child can cross a street by himself, babysit a sibling, or babysit someone else's kids was defined by law. It makes it easy for parents: You know when you're stepping over the line. But here in America, it seems like every day, there's some new heart-wrenching story in the media of a good mom who left her kid in a car for five minutes to run into the store, or who lets her kids walk to the park by themselves, and then has Child Protective Services called on her, resulting in heartbreak and legal hassles for the whole family because the laws are so open to interpretation. My family lives in a low-traffic residential neighborhood, but honestly, I'm terrified to let my 7-year-old ride his bike around the block. Not because I fear for his safety, but because I'm worried some well-meaning neighbor will turn us in for an amorphous, ambiguous, subjectively-defined neglect or abandonment or endangerment clause. OK, maybe I'm paranoid and read too much news, but theoretically, this could happen, right? Even in Montana.
So while I'm all for individual liberties, it's tempting to wish for clearly defined boundaries. But if, as some of my libertarian friends would probably say, it's not more regulations that we need, and if America doesn't want to have the age of unsupervised activities for children defined for it, along with everything else, then please, Senator Cruz and our other legislators, come up with a better solution than what we currently have. If we're not going to regulate ourselves to death, that's fine by me; but then I want to know my individual liberties are better protected than they appear to be so I don't have to live in fear. It would be nice if I actually felt free to make sound judgment calls regarding my children without having to look over my shoulder.
October 23, 2014
It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown
I love to play dress-up, but I'm not big into Halloween. Other places have other days to get all costumed up: Carnival, Purim, and so on. But one of the top reasons I'm not into Halloween is the whole display-a-pumpkin for decoration thing. Or worse, cut it up into a Jack-o'-lantern. Really, what could be more wasteful? I still remember how my Russian friends, fresh after the food shortages following the collapse of the Soviet Union, were horrified to learn how Americans waste food just for fun.
Just think about all the food games: You've got egg tosses, raw egg roulette, pie-in-the-face gags, find the penny in the flour, and so on. Of course, my personal favorite has always been the build-the tallest-structure-using-marshmallows-and-spaghetti game. Seriously, if you haven't tried it, you should. OK, so no one's perfect. But back to pumpkins…
So, what do you do if you have a pumpkin, you know you shouldn't let it go to waste, and like me, you hate pumpkin pie? Yep, I'm with the heroine of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn: I think this staple of American pumpkin usage tastes like soap. Fortunately, there are sooo many other yummy ways to enjoy pumpkin, and I thought I'd share a couple recipes with you that are my personal favorites. Enjoy!
Near East Pumpkin Soup (adapted from the Mediterranean Kitchen cookbook by Clark and Farrow)
1 kg (at least 2 lbs) of pumpkin, peeled and in chunks (this is the hardest part of the recipe)
2 Tbsp olive oil
1 onion
2 garlic cloves
1 tsp ginger
1 tsp cumin
4 cups chicken or veggie broth
Directions: sautee the onion and garlic in the olive oil in a large pot. Add the spices and stir. Add the pumpkin and broth. Simmer until soft, 20-30 minutes. Process with a hand blender or in a food processor. Garnish with sesame seeds if you're Shmuel.
No-Egg Pumpkin Bread (adapted from my m-i-l's recipe)
1 cup light olive oil
2 cups sugar
1/2 cup molasses
1 cup REAL maple syrup
3 3/4 cups processed pumpkin (30 oz canned is OK)
1 1/2 Tbsp cinnamon
1 tsp cloves
4 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
5 cups flour (I like to do one of those cups whole wheat)
Directions: mix oil and sugars in a VERY large bowl. Add pumpkin and mix. Add all the dry ingredients and mix. Place a sheet of parchment paper in the bottom of your loaf pans and grease the sides. Pour into your forms (makes 2 very large loaves or 3 medium-sized) and bake at 350 (175 celsius) until toothpick comes out clean (an hour for large loaves, less for smaller).
Aromatic Rice With Pumpkin (a cross between Bat-El's Indian rice recipe and Tanya's pumpkin rice recipe)
Prepare to make your typical white, 20-minute rice on the stove -- same amount of oil, salt, rice, and water, but before you put on the lid, add some chunks of pumpkin (you don't have to peel it beforehand if you don't want), a cinnamon stick, a cardamom pod, a bay leaf, a peeled clove of garlic, a few whole pepper corns, and a dash of turmeric. (You can omit ingredients you don't have or don't like, just not all of them!) You can even throw in a few black or golden raisins if you like. Simmer the normal 20 minutes, turn off the heat and let steam another 5 minutes. Yum! Hint: Don't eat the cinnamon stick, cardamom pod, bay leaf, garlic clove, pepper corns, or pumpkin peel.
Just think about all the food games: You've got egg tosses, raw egg roulette, pie-in-the-face gags, find the penny in the flour, and so on. Of course, my personal favorite has always been the build-the tallest-structure-using-marshmallows-and-spaghetti game. Seriously, if you haven't tried it, you should. OK, so no one's perfect. But back to pumpkins…
So, what do you do if you have a pumpkin, you know you shouldn't let it go to waste, and like me, you hate pumpkin pie? Yep, I'm with the heroine of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn: I think this staple of American pumpkin usage tastes like soap. Fortunately, there are sooo many other yummy ways to enjoy pumpkin, and I thought I'd share a couple recipes with you that are my personal favorites. Enjoy!
Near East Pumpkin Soup (adapted from the Mediterranean Kitchen cookbook by Clark and Farrow)
1 kg (at least 2 lbs) of pumpkin, peeled and in chunks (this is the hardest part of the recipe)
2 Tbsp olive oil
1 onion
2 garlic cloves
1 tsp ginger
1 tsp cumin
4 cups chicken or veggie broth
Directions: sautee the onion and garlic in the olive oil in a large pot. Add the spices and stir. Add the pumpkin and broth. Simmer until soft, 20-30 minutes. Process with a hand blender or in a food processor. Garnish with sesame seeds if you're Shmuel.
No-Egg Pumpkin Bread (adapted from my m-i-l's recipe)
1 cup light olive oil
2 cups sugar
1/2 cup molasses
1 cup REAL maple syrup
3 3/4 cups processed pumpkin (30 oz canned is OK)
1 1/2 Tbsp cinnamon
1 tsp cloves
4 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
5 cups flour (I like to do one of those cups whole wheat)
Directions: mix oil and sugars in a VERY large bowl. Add pumpkin and mix. Add all the dry ingredients and mix. Place a sheet of parchment paper in the bottom of your loaf pans and grease the sides. Pour into your forms (makes 2 very large loaves or 3 medium-sized) and bake at 350 (175 celsius) until toothpick comes out clean (an hour for large loaves, less for smaller).
Aromatic Rice With Pumpkin (a cross between Bat-El's Indian rice recipe and Tanya's pumpkin rice recipe)
Prepare to make your typical white, 20-minute rice on the stove -- same amount of oil, salt, rice, and water, but before you put on the lid, add some chunks of pumpkin (you don't have to peel it beforehand if you don't want), a cinnamon stick, a cardamom pod, a bay leaf, a peeled clove of garlic, a few whole pepper corns, and a dash of turmeric. (You can omit ingredients you don't have or don't like, just not all of them!) You can even throw in a few black or golden raisins if you like. Simmer the normal 20 minutes, turn off the heat and let steam another 5 minutes. Yum! Hint: Don't eat the cinnamon stick, cardamom pod, bay leaf, garlic clove, pepper corns, or pumpkin peel.
October 15, 2014
NaNoWriMo 2014
Thought I'd share a few of the articles that comprise my inspiration for the sci-fi novel I'm planning to pen this year, tentatively entitled "Cold Sister."
Enjoy! If you can.
http://www.idfblog.com/blog/2014/04/1...
http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/...
http://www.wired.com/2014/07/everythi...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j4SSQ...
http://www.bbc.com/news/science-envir...
https://medium.com/@ReboMaxwell/artif...
Enjoy! If you can.
http://www.idfblog.com/blog/2014/04/1...
http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/...
http://www.wired.com/2014/07/everythi...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j4SSQ...
http://www.bbc.com/news/science-envir...
https://medium.com/@ReboMaxwell/artif...
October 13, 2014
Having it all
One of my favorite movies of all time is Ever After. And one of its best lines is delivered by Dougray Scott: "I used to think, if I cared at all, I would have to care about everything, and I'd go stark raving mad. But now I've found my purpose…. And I feel the most wonderful freedom."
I'm not exactly a prince with princely resources, nor am I setting out to open a university for Romanis. But probably, if you knew me in childhood, you'd have said that I was the pupil who was going to go places, going do things with her life: Gee, she's got the good grades, the smarts, and the drive to do anything she wants. I can't say that I haven't been exciting places, but as for a career direction, objectively speaking, it's been a somewhat amorphous area of my life. Too many things to do, too little time!
I've had a hard time settling on one thing to focus on because there are sooooo many possibilities. Just like Lenka sings, I want to be everything at once! So how does one even begin to choose? But now that I've begun scribbling away at novels like the young Jo March -- I'm almost done with a series of historical romance novels, and for NaNoWriMo 2014, I'll be embarking on a young adult sci-fi that is sure to blow your socks off (I hope!) -- I can say with Prince Henri that "I feel the most wonderful freedom."
Because, here I was today, delving into articles on TMS (transcranial magnetic stimulation), TDCS (transcranial direct current stimulation), and the ethics of neuro enhancement for military purposes. In which other hobby can one do that and also laugh one's way through a study of buccaneer slang, as well as still one's soul in the face of the economics of the 17th century transatlantic slave trade? In which other creative process can one fuse an understanding of human nature gleaned over a lifetime together with a superficial knowledge of wind power and astrophysics? How fun is that! Maybe I've finally found my calling.
I'm not exactly a prince with princely resources, nor am I setting out to open a university for Romanis. But probably, if you knew me in childhood, you'd have said that I was the pupil who was going to go places, going do things with her life: Gee, she's got the good grades, the smarts, and the drive to do anything she wants. I can't say that I haven't been exciting places, but as for a career direction, objectively speaking, it's been a somewhat amorphous area of my life. Too many things to do, too little time!
I've had a hard time settling on one thing to focus on because there are sooooo many possibilities. Just like Lenka sings, I want to be everything at once! So how does one even begin to choose? But now that I've begun scribbling away at novels like the young Jo March -- I'm almost done with a series of historical romance novels, and for NaNoWriMo 2014, I'll be embarking on a young adult sci-fi that is sure to blow your socks off (I hope!) -- I can say with Prince Henri that "I feel the most wonderful freedom."
Because, here I was today, delving into articles on TMS (transcranial magnetic stimulation), TDCS (transcranial direct current stimulation), and the ethics of neuro enhancement for military purposes. In which other hobby can one do that and also laugh one's way through a study of buccaneer slang, as well as still one's soul in the face of the economics of the 17th century transatlantic slave trade? In which other creative process can one fuse an understanding of human nature gleaned over a lifetime together with a superficial knowledge of wind power and astrophysics? How fun is that! Maybe I've finally found my calling.
