At this moment, my inbox is full of inquiries from people who have questions about writing.
In case you have some questions too, here’s how it works. If you write, you are a writer. So glad I could clear that up for you.
Ok, Jodie. But then what?
Great question! I can lead you to straight to the answer. To that question and to any others you have. Follow me, loves, I’ll show you where I get all the answers.
Continue reading “So, you want to be a writer. Good news—chances are you already are one.”
I’m very writer-y, but not always very talker-y. When I write, I tip myself upside down, shaking my thoughts loose from the nooks and crannies they’ve wedged into. I empty my brain’s pockets of all the angst I’ve stuffed deep inside. Then I begin to slowly work through the jumbled pile, organizing and editing as I go. In sifting through the debris on the page, keeping what makes good sense while letting the rest go, I end up with a neatly packaged bundle of words finally fit for consumption.
But when I talk, especially when I’m ill-prepared, I’ve been known to stutter. I ramble on and on and on and on and on and on. I become unnecessarily repetitive in an effort to get my point across. The right words to fully express what I’m thinking often elude me.
Continue reading “That first social event without the crutch of booze—uff-da!—and then some.”
I once had to be surgically removed from my princess phone. But today, phone calls make me—well, um—let’s just say they bring out the worst in me.
And golly, people had some strong feelings about my latest piece detailing my current reaction to the dreaded phone call.
Continue reading “The phone call is so not the new black—but I’m not yet ruling it out for the next season of life.”
Our personal regrets are powerful in how they work to shape us into the people we want to be. But our accomplishments are even more adept at molding us.
I’ve got an old suitcase bulging at the seams with regret. I don’t lug its oppressive heft around with me on the regular, but I do hold onto it because it’s packed with important reminders of unsavory venues I’ve visited—places I never want to return to.
I’ve never been able to comprehend it when someone insists, “I have no regrets.” I can’t fathom how that can be true. I wonder whether it’s a sentiment possibly born of faulty hindsight. Or perhaps some false bravado. I do understand, though, that we’re better served and better able to serve others by focusing on all that we don’t regret more than all that we do.
Continue reading “To Admit Your Regrets Or Not To; That Is The Question”
My teenage daughter and I temporarily tatted up for an inspiring local event called IGNITE, some years ago. We got inked with one word that intoned what I was ever longingly looking for at the time—purpose.
The only thing I’ve ever truly wanted to be without any doubt was a mom. Beyond raising my children, and being lucky to be able to, I was never sure what my life’s purpose was in addition to being a loving parent. Or how to find it. The problem was more often than not, this left me feeling unsettled and unfulfilled.
Continue reading “That thing that almost killed you? Well, it didn’t. So now it’s likely your new purpose in this life.”