Say "yes"

It's maybe the strongest word in the English language. (See what I did there?)

Cross-posted to my website.

You’re getting a Saturday coffee break this week because we were all participating in the blackout yesterday, right? RIGHT?

Good.

I tried to, anyway. I had to go to work, but I did my best to stay off the internet and, at the very least, not sell anything.

I want to acknowledge before going forward that it is a heavy time right now. I spoke to this a few weeks ago, and I’ve been struggling with what else to say. All of those words still ring true.

At my appointment with my therapist Thursday night, I spoke to my acceptance of some of the changes happening in my life. I’m growing older, and so are my kids, and there’s nothing I can really do about that but ride the waves with as much grace as I can and make my life the best it can be. (This is making me sound a lot more well adjusted than I am. I’m trying.) When she asked if I felt the same way about the world, I responded with an emphatic no. I am not resigned, nor do I accept any of what is going on. I am angry. These things are no longer unprecedented, they are unconscionable. It is unconscionable that our children should be worried about gun violence and ICE and COVID and all the other ways we have failed them. It is a constant, low-level white noise of fear and rage, and if I ever get to a point of acceptance of those things, well…she should be worried about me. And now, I have to work on holding two things at once: I am enraged, and I have to live. I need to work to do what I can to improve this world, and I need to work to do what I can to retain my joy.

And that, my friends, is what we are talking about today—joy. Because sometimes it feels like that might be all we have left.

I have recently realized that if I drink coffee after noon, I’ll be awake all night. This didn’t used to happen, or maybe it did and I never really noticed it. Either way, please bear with me during this difficult time. I guess I’ll have to drink water like a peasant.

YES, I feel better when I drink more water and less caffeine. NO, I do not care. And please do not come at me with your “try herbal tea!” nonsense. I love herbal tea. It is also not coffee.

But also, feel free to rec some herbal tea in the comments, actually. The peppermint tea can really only go so far.

After I finished a draft of Not on the Same Page at the end of December, I took the month of January off. Well…not completely off. I started working on rewriting book one in my witchy romance series. (Going from first person present to third person past is not for the faint of heart, but damn it makes this one a better book.) I did a deep dive of research for book three of the Strong Enough series. But, mostly, I focused on other things. January and February are some of my busiest months because I coach the Speech team, and we have after-school practices and tournaments every Saturday (ALL DAY Saturday). Frankly, I’m exhausted most of the time…but in a really good way. Teaching students who want to learn about the craft of public speaking? Priceless. Add in a little competitive edge, and it’s one of my favorite things.

But writing often takes a backseat during these months. It’s not that I’m doing nothing writing-related. I’m just pulling back, going slower, doing things that fill my cup in other ways. Gearing up for a spring and summer full of art (and my daughter’s dance competitions, but that’s another story).

I’ve also made no secret of the fact that, since I finished writing Not a Strong Enough Word almost a year ago, I’ve been fighting burnout. Illness, overwork (both at school and in my writing), family obligations, and a world that won’t slow down with its atrocities will do that to you. Writing and promoting a book about a character experiencing a worse mental health crisis than you are will, too.

One of my Speech students this season is doing an event where she takes a speech from someone else, cuts it down to eight minutes, and performs her own interpretation. This year, she’s performing “My year of saying yes to everything” by Shonda Rhimes, and I’m obsessed with it. If you’re not familiar with the speech, go watch it now. I’ll wait.

Now, I’m nowhere near a Titan like she is. But I think what she’s saying here is universal. Not just for authors or artists, either. I get The Hum when I’m teaching and I feel like I’m at the top of my game. I get it when I’m writing, too—the words are flowing, the vibes are vibing, the playlist is shuffling songs that hit all the right notes. The sun is shining and it makes you feel like you’re back on the right timeline, doing everything in exactly the right way.

But, you know, it’s winter and the world is on fire. Nothing is flowing or vibing. I keep skipping songs trying to find something that isn’t abrasive to my earholes. My body isn’t behaving the way it used to. We’re all on the edge of burnout.

So, instead of jumping into book three like I probably should have—because ya girl has another deadline coming up and, let’s face it, life doesn’t really ever get less busy—I pulled back. I started saying yes to other things. Things I had admittedly been avoiding under the guise of being “too busy,” but really because they require planning and getting dressed and a level of discomfort that always comes for me when leaving the house. Going to the aquarium with my kids. Going on a date with my husband. Watching one of my least favorite kids’ shows with my son while we cuddle on the couch. (I know. You don’t say no when your kid asks to cuddle. But I really hate bugs, even when they’re cute and giggle and have big eyes. IYKYK.)

And it was kind of funny in the way that these things are almost always highly predictable. When I started saying yes to these things, I found that I was able to say yes to others. Things that had scared me, like running. I went for a run for the first time in six months last Friday…and again Monday…and again Thursday. (Don’t panic, we have a treadmill. I’m not going outside in this weather. There’s uncomfortable, and then there’s dangerous.) I hadn’t even really realized that, in the year of illness and injury I’ve had, the rest I needed to take had turned into avoidance and fear—that my body would fall apart (it didn’t), that it would hurt (it did, but not in a bad way), that I’d discover I would never be able to run again (I actually discovered the opposite, just that I needed to make a few tweaks to make it sustainable).

Another funny thing happened as I was running. I had to stop a few times to jot down some lines in my notes app for my next book. And then I had to stop again when I realized—breathless, and not only because of the run—that this trilogy of books is about a woman experiencing burnout, a woman with control issues and anxiety over ever feeling like a burden, and a woman who has struggled with feeling like her body is not her own.

How lucky am I to be able to write stories that mean so much to me?

And there it was. Plain as day. I had been looking at all this as another job, but with that realization, it wasn’t just a job anymore. It’s a privilege. Nothing about the work changed, but I did. Saying yes started like Shonda Rhimes said, with saying yes to my kids and my family. But the most important yes was the one that came later. The one I had to give myself.

The Hum is back. At least for now. I’m a realist. I know it’ll come and go. But right now, I feel great. I’m ready to take on the next challenge. And I cannot wait for you all to read it.

In case you missed it on Instagram, the Strong Enough series is coming to audio! I cannot WAIT to hear Ryan tell Scarlett that he’s keeping those slutty little glasses on. And y’all are not ready for Casey and Trina. Their story is HOT.

Buckle up, Buttercup…

Three nosy relatives, two jobs, one fledgling side hustle, and zero roommate prospects. No wonder Ada Russo is saltier than the rim of a margarita glass.

When her brother’s best friend lands in Lennox Valley needing a place to stay for the summer, Ada’s spare room is the logical choice. What’s not logical is the way Jesse Bailey, one of her oldest friends, suddenly has her fantasizing about taking stupid, sexy risks.

Jesse never planned on returning to the life he fled eight years ago. But when a family emergency puts him on the next flight home, he can’t run from his past any longer. Something else he can’t avoid? His best friend’s loudmouth little sister. Back in high school, Ada was like one of the guys, but now she’s all grown up—provoking thoughts Jesse’s determined to squash.

Unable to resist the torturous tension, Jesse and Ada soon learn their scorching secret will be impossible to keep under wraps. And as their hearts intertwine, it’s not only lying to her brother, but lying to themselves, that threatens to rip them apart.

Jesse’s Girl is the second book in the Lennox Valley Chronicles series. It features mature content intended for readers aged 18 and up.

What ways are you going to say yes to yourself this week?

Stay safe, strong, and keep resisting, folks. Eight Republicans flipped on funding. Our calls and letters are working. Keep going, and keep reading.