Writing and Growing

I am going back to my garden preparation after a couple of years of sitting out. I’m also going to keep writing if inspiration hits me (which I hope it does soon) and promoting my books on social media. And of course, work my day job (professoring). I’m going to over-commit myself, apparently.

I’m buying seeds, which is followed by cleaning my grow room and organizing planting times. Today I’ll organize planting times; later, I’ll make my husband clean the grow room. (I know that using the phrase “grow room” makes it sound like I’m growing an illegal crop, but I assure you I’m growing strictly legal eggplant.)

My strategy here is that, if I remove my focus from writing, I will find the inspiration to write something new. This has happened to me in the past, usually when I’m at my busiest time at work. It’s uncanny how often it works.

And maybe if I put my focus on writing, Richard and I will weed the garden more. I know I’m being overly optimistic. We’ll see.

What I Have Published

I haven’t updated my publications list lately, so I figure this would be a good time to do so.

Short Stories and Poems

Leach-Steffens, L. (2020). Thirty Years. Sad Girls Pub Lit. Available: https://www.sadgirlsclublit.com/post/thirty-years-lauren-leach-steffens

Leach-Steffens, L. (2020). Come to Realize. The Daily Drunk. Available: https://thedailydrunk.com/f/come-to-realize?blogcategory=Short+Story

Leach-Steffens, L. (2020. )Wasn’t/Was/Is. Riza Press. Available: https://rizapress.com/2020/01/09/wasnt-was-is/

Leach-Steffens, L. (2019). Slush Pile. Submittable Content for Creatives. Available: http://discover.submittable.com/blog/2019-rejection-horror-stories-part-1/

Leach-Steffens, L. (2019). Flourish. Cook Publishing Short Story Contest. Available: https://lleach.me/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/0ad2a-flourish.pdf

Self-Published Novels:

Leach-Steffens, L. (2022). Gaia’s Hands. Available: https://www.amazon.com/Gaias-Hands-Lauren-Leach-Steffens-ebook/dp/B09DBRN7XW/ref=sr_1_5?crid=25TC9AGIGJWQY&keywords=Lauren+Leach-Steffens&qid=1641131151&sprefix=lauren+leach-steffens%2Caps%2C75&sr=8-5

Leach-Steffens, L. (2021). Kringle in the Night. Available: https://www.amazon.com/Gaias-Hands-Lauren-Leach-Steffens-ebook/dp/B09DBRN7XW/ref=sr_1_5?crid=25TC9AGIGJWQY&keywords=Lauren+Leach-Steffens&qid=1641131151&sprefix=lauren+leach-steffens%2Caps%2C75&sr=8-5

Leach-Steffens, L. (2020). The Kringle Conspiracy. Available: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08KFBLCPC?ref_=dbs_m_mng_rwt_calw_tkin_0&storeType=ebooks&qid=1641217948&sr=8-1

Serial Novel (Kindle Vella):

Leach-Steffens, L. (2021). Kel and Brother Coyote Save the Universe. Kindle Vella. Available: https://www.amazon.com/Kel-Brother-Coyote-Save-Universe/dp/B09B1CKVL2/ref=sr_1_1?crid=24TPNCO0NGU4L&keywords=Kel+and+Brother+Coyote&qid=1641218295&sprefix=kel+and+brother+coyote%2Caps%2C82&sr=8-1

Superstition

I’m the last person you would expect

I have a Ph.D., yet I am superstitious. Not in the way typically meant by that. I have a mostly black cat. I break mirrors all the time because I am preternaturally clumsy, and I have opened umbrellas in the house. And whistled past graveyards, just for fun. So I’m not superstitious in the traditional way.

I am superstitious in terms of curses. If something bad happens to me, especially in screwing up my work or writing life, it must be a curse, and the bad things will keep happening until I break the curse.

Breaking the curse

There’s only one problem with my superstitions: I don’t know how to break a curse. First, I imagine no specific person cursing me; I think it’s probably fate who has it in for me. (This is so irrational it embarrasses me). How can I break a curse with that sort of provenance?

I sincerely think I can, however, if I could figure out how. My superstition includes not magic, but symbolic psychology indistinguishable from sympathetic magic (because I have a Ph.D., of course).

When I write this down, the rational side of me cringes. I mean really cringes. But that’s the flip side of the problem — this is something I’m probably doing to myself subconsciously. My belief that I am failing might cause me to avoid what I need to do to succeed — at least that’s the psychological explanation; I’ve already admitted I’m superstitious). So who is cursing me? Me.

Time for me to do some ritual to reclaim at least as much luck as other people have. I don’t want to be too lucky, because good luck attracts bad influences.

I told you I was superstitious.

Happy New Year!

Happy 2022!

I have determined not to dread the coming of the new year or assume it will be better than 2020 or 2021 (but how could it be worse?) So I will look at it with cautious optimism and look at what I can control — what I do to make the best of the year.

My annual tradition

I have an annual tradition to make commitments for my year. I don’t do resolutions because they’re black-and-white: You keep them or you don’t. I prefer my method, which is to include the things I want to carry out in my life on the first day of the year. I have published my next novel, Gaia’s Hands. I have edited one of my works, eaten responsibly, organized some work for the beginning of the semester, organized my clothes a little, done a bit of cleaning … What do I have left? A few minutes on the exercise bike and a newsletter. Maybe I’ll do the newsletter first, which is how I generally feel about the exercise.

Here’s my hopes

I hope that beginning my year this way will keep me writing this newsletter. I have been struggling with it for a while. I would like it to be a part of my life, and I would like to reach you with it.

A Fuzzy Day

It’s not a warm fuzzy day, mind you. Just a fuzzy day. One where my brain isn’t quite clear. One where sitting on the couch (no, laying on the couch) doesn’t seem to be a bad thing to do.

I was going to work on editing my novel today, the second quarter of the book. But I don’t feel like it. I feel fuzzy.

I have to wake up before my appointment with my therapist or else I’m going to cancel that. Or sleep through it. I have already had tea (and a sip of coffee which left me tummyish).

Let’s see if I can wake up. Talk to you later!

Photo by Acharaporn Kamornboonyarush on Pexels.com

What is this TikTok thing anyhow?

I’m on TikTok. Yes, I have a TikTok. Yes, I’m old. Yes, I’m probably too old for TikTok. But I have these little books to sell, and anything that can help me do so is welcome.

Someone — a couple people — made obnoxious comments on my TikTok yesterday. The comments even included a reference to “WAP”. (And yes, I understood the reference. I’m not THAT old. If you’re that old, it refers to a really risque song by Cardi B whose lyrics I will not share).

When I get comments, they’re often not positive. Ok, the ones from my friends are, but the ones from the general public are often insulting or argumentative. I don’t know if it’s the nature of TikTok, the fact that I’m using it at 58, or something about me or my posts. I don’t answer the comments, because if I’ve learned anything in my old age, it’s ‘don’t feed the trolls’.

But what do you DO with TikTok?

I don’t really know what to do with TikTok. My mind doesn’t seem to work in a TikTok way. I don’t argue philosophy or eat plants from the forest or deliver speeches or do stand-up comedy. My stuff is like a fireside chat with a weird person. Here’s an example.

I guess what I need to do is find a niche. “Fireside chat with a weird person” probably isn’t a bad niche. But maybe a better one will come to me. I have to admit I come up with ideas about one minute till filming, which makes me a bit of an improv artist. A weirdo with a fireside chat, after all.

And I’m hoping for positive messages to outweigh the idiots who responded on my TikTok yesterday.

Recharging

On the fifth day of my vacation, I’m officially at the point where I don’t want to do anything but sit on the couch and binge-watch Babylon 5. This is unfortunate because I’ve been watching that with my husband and we’re two episodes from the end. So what would I binge-watch? I could watch Dune again, or Shang-Chi. (Notice a nerdy trend here?)

I don’t do nothing very well. I easily get restless and irritable. But I can’t motivate myself to do what I need to do right now, which is to edit It Takes Two to Kringle, possibly because the only reason I need to do it now is that I think I should. It’s due for uploading onto Kindle in October, and so I have plenty of time for revisions and the like.

Maybe it’s time to rest and recharge. What that looks like, I don’t know, because I don’t do nothing very well.

Food: A Blessing and a Curse

I have lost and gained so much weight in my life I could be triplets. Obese triplets. I’m not sure what the problem is, except that if I start eating sweets, I crave sweets to the exception of anything else, even when not hungry. It’s something I have little control over unless I do something drastic: eat responsibly. And keep eating responsibly even when the sugar cravings scream at me.

I’ve chosen to eat responsibly again. The type of responsible where half the plate consists of fruits and vegetables and, most importantly, the sweets are kept to a minimum. Greasy foods are kept to a minimum as well, but the real focus is on what health nuts call “eating clean”. (Vegans use the phrase slightly differently to mean “not eating animal products.” Although I don’t each much meat, I don’t shun it entirely.) I eat one small sweet thing a day — usually dark chocolate.

This situation is stressing me after only two weeks of lifestyle change. Not that I have trouble following the new dietary rules — I do follow them and follow them well. But the eventual arrival of sweets in the house for Christmas is putting me into a panic. I know how to deal with it — only eat one sweet thing a day. Focus on healthier food. Get variety. Love vegetables. But I’m still irrationally panicking. How can I just not care so much about sweet food?

Some people find it easy to stay thin. Some people struggle to lose weight. Once I start, I can lose weight as well as anyone else my age (which is to say slowly). But my addiction to sweets takes over again and I say “the hell with moderation” again.

I can’t let sugar take over my life again. My doctor says I’m hurting my body with this weight gain. I can do it. I just have to keep it up.

Making Up Holiday Traditions

Holidays in the age of COVID

This will be the second year that my husband and I will not be going to see my father and sister for Christmas. Even though we’re vaccinated and boosted and wear our masks, we’re cautious, because you can’t unmake COVID happen once it’s been caught. We decided that the threat of the Omicron variant plus the nearness of our destination to Chicago (and with hordes of Chicagoans coming there) make it too risky. Plus my dad is in his 80s, and I don’t want to gift him with any pathogens.

Feeling a loss

Richard and I feel a loss when we look at past Christmases — staying in a cabin at Starved Rock Lodge, sitting in the Great Hall opening up presents, watching families pose for pictures by the massive fireplace. Wandering around the nearby cities of Ottawa and Utica, splitting a huge pork tenderloin sandwich at Canalport (my hometown area is known for these). Visiting my family and swapping stories. All the rituals around Christmas, lost. We don’t even have snow!

The loss of rituals left Richard grouchy last night when his work dinner was canceled due to COVID. He got to the bottom of his symptoms of stomping and sighing pretty quickly when he realized the cause (it’s always good to know yourself).

The need for new traditions

With 10 days until Christmas, we will devise a set of Christmas activities to make up for what we have lost. We already have traditions of watching Christmas movies and episodes in the weeks leading up to Christmas. We have stockings, and the cats have a stocking too which we will fill with catnip cat toys. We will cook an Italian meal for Christmas dinner (but not the seven fishes of the traditional Italian meal, thank goodness). We will watch A Christmas Story and check to see if there are any good Christmas Day movies at the local theater.

We may play with words, play games, play with our new toys (I know I’m getting a fountain pen for my collection) and eat a feast with leftovers. We’ll cuddle in front of our fake fireplace, look at the Christmas tree, and eat turron (a candy I’ve always wanted to share with Richard; it’s from Spain, and there are several varieties of it. We have four).

We will find new traditions.

A Green Christmas

Christmas rituals

Every year, my husband and I hold our Christmas rituals dear. Decking the living room with lit garlands, decking the porch as well, setting out the creche that I grew up with, playing Christmas songs, editing the next Christmas romance, watching Christmas movies, turning on the Christmas tree.¹

The one ritual we’re missing

It hasn’t snowed appreciably here in northwest Missouri, and this means we haven’t celebrated one of our yearly rituals. For 35 years (give or take a few), I have celebrated the first snow. There has been no snow this year, and no snow in the forseeable forecast.

Whether alone or with friends, I have performed the ritual of First Snow:

Wait till at least one inch of fresh snow has fallen and it’s night out
Gather a bowl full of snow (or, alternatively, sit out in the snow)²
Grab a cup of preferred beverage³
Drink toasts to various things as your imagination grabs you⁴
Pass the cup around (pre-COVID)⁵
Always begin and end with “To the Snow”
When done, dump the last bit of the cup into the snow

First Snow, by its climatological nature, is impromptu. Generally, there’s not more than a few hours of warning. This has meant that anywhere from one (myself) to eight (friends) have met up for it.

But, as far as I know, it’s not happening this year according to the weather forecast. I guess I will have to enjoy my green Christmas

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The Christmas tree hides in the parlor. We literally just turn the lights on in the Christmas season. During the worst of COVID, we turned the lights back on all summer.
When I was younger, I sat out in the snow. Not anymore.
This beverage has ranged from blackberry brandy drunk out of a mug in a city park to hot chocolate with brandy on my balcony to plain hot chocolate in my living room.
The later in the round of toasts it is, the stranger and funnier the toasts grow. Especially if the contents of the cup are high-proof. For examples of toasts, click here.
Under COVID, it’s just me and my husband.