Om at Home

As you may know, I have an online coaching program for writers called Intuitive Writing (just like my ebook!). Right now, one of the writers I'm working with is Chanda, whom I have met once, in an in-person class I taught about 2 years ago. A few days after the Intuitive Writing program started, I checked in with Chanda by email. I said,

How is the writing going? Are you writing daily? Have you listened to your downloads? Please let me know what I can do to support you and your writing. You are welcome to phone or email any time.

Chanda answered:

I am getting into the writing. As always, there are excuses. I have been in Arrowhead for most of the last six months remodeling a house. I just came home last Thursday, brought a puppy home, my cat freaked out and now it seems like I have lost her for good. Anyway, opens the heart, I miss her.

I also liked hearing about Silva since I actually read that book in the early eighties and then did a refresher a couple of years ago with the c.d.'s. I love it but I am the worst at keeping a program going. I like learning but it is the applying that is the problem here.

I have not looked at the downloads yet. I think I will have to print them off as I like to have things in front of me on paper..........I will do it soon.

Thank you so much for everything. I will be out of town this weekend so maybe, let's say, maybe Wednesday for our phone consultation. How does that sound to you?

So we set an appointment, and I told her to read the book, either on the computer or printed out, and write every day, at least 20 minutes. I reminded her, since she knew about the Silva Method (I had just taken a course, which I talked about in my emails to the writers), that maybe she could use it to get her cat back. Then I said:

Right now, I am visualizing the cat walking in through a sliding glass door. After that, I see the cat and the puppy curled up together, happy and harmonious. And I am visualizing you nearby writing fast in your notebook, the words pouring out in an abundant, uninterrupted stream!

Without telling Chanda, I did a couple of big meditations about her cat. I imagined "energetically" ushering the cat safely home. I saw the cat walking through an open sliding glass door into Chanda's kitchen. I felt Chanda's, surprise, delight, and relief at seeing her cat. I pictured the cat in Chanda's lap and then I imagined the cat rolling happily on the floor. For the next couple of days, several times, I heard the song "The Cat Came Back," playing just barely detectably in the background of my thoughts, like a little radio turned way down low: "And the cat came back the very next day. They thought he was a goner, but the cat came back. He just couldn't stay away."

Guess what? Two days after we emailed, the cat came back. Chanda emailed me again:

Thank you for helping me with my kitty, Om. When I came home tonight she was here, still friction with the puppy but at least she is here and I am elated and surprised.

(I thought it was interesting that she emailed me right away and thanked me, because I didn't tell her that I was meditating about the cat.) Chanda and I had our phone coaching session yesterday morning, and I got more details for you.

• I found out that the cat had been missing for 9 days!
• Chanda lives in Murrieta, California, I learned, an area that's pretty well populated with coyotes and other predators. On two separate occasions, Chanda told me, hawks have gotten their talons into this very same cat's back and tried to carry her off. In my own neighborhood, which is far more paved and populated (with humans), I have seen a coyote running through the street, carrying a dead cat in its mouth. Just a few months ago, a coyote tried to get into our back yard to get our dog. My husband and I had to yell and scream a lot to get it to go away. Here in California, cats who go missing for a day or two don't usually come back.
• This cat returned healthy, clean, and perfect in every way--on Chanda's birthday! She said the cat looked as though she had just stepped out for a few minutes and come right back.
  
• The cat came back through the sliding glass door into the kitchen. Chanda had been out all day, celebrating her birthday, and when she came home, so did the cat.
• The cat's name is Om. Now Om is at home.

Cool story, you're thinking, but what does it have to do with me? Well, a lot. As I'm sure you know by now, to me, almost everything that happens is a metaphor. The fact that Om came home represents possibility. Maybe Om herself is that dream or wish that you really want to see realized. What about those animal predators? Those look a lot like doubts, fears, and limiting beliefs to me. How about you? So don't let your worries gobble up your desires!

Check out your fears about what you want. Maybe you're pessimistic about your ability to survive financially doing what you really want to do. Maybe you've given up on something before it had a chance to work out. Perhaps you've let events in the news dictate how you feel about your future. Maybe you're facing a health, work, or relationship challenge that you're not expecting to turn around. Remember that your positive thoughts, beliefs, and expectations can influence an outcome. Allow yourself to be pleasantly surprised by what you can create with the power of your mind.

And think about Om at home.

Ebook!

My new ebook is now available on my web site. Intuitive Writing is the companion book to my coaching courses for writers. Many of you have already used this material in a different form to quickly and easily move ahead with your writing. If you aren't familiar with it, this book is a practical how-to writing guide along with personal stories from my writing life. You'll find tried-and-true techniques (that I've developed on myself) for increasing your writing flow, using your intuition to guide your writing, and especially for making your writing process more fun and joyful. (I even have a chapter on Healing Writer's Heartbreak. Anybody been there?) Those of you who are enrolled in my in-person class in San Diego, starting Wednesday, September 17, this ebook will make your experience even more powerful.

Quite a few of you have asked when the distance classes on Intuitive Writing will begin again. I now have an answer for you: September 27! Intuitive Writing is a self-paced 6-week program that includes a daily email from me to encourage you and help you to stay focused, the new ebook, 2 hypnosis downloads, membership in an online Yahoo group, and private coaching. Past clients/students have seen huge improvements in writing productivity. And I'm even prouder of the fact that they tend to feel much better about the writing process. More joy, less anxiety. More fun, less guilt. More ease, less struggle. I've witnessed some pretty amazing transformations. I do not offer critique. Instead, I offer what you really need: encouragement, support, structure, and nurturing of your unique creative gifts.

If you have questions, please ask!

New Thing

Almost as soon as I started teaching writing online, I also started looking for additional tools to help writers unblock. One day while I was waiting to get my eyebrows waxed, I noticed that the office across the hall from the esthetician was a hypnotherapist. I thought, "That's what I need to learn!" Within about two weeks, I'd enrolled in a course. Pretty soon, I was a Certified Clinical and Medical Hypnotherapist. Lucky for me, hypnotherapy turned out to be a great way to move people (including me) forward in their writing. But it turns out that hypnotherapy is useful for all kind of other things, besides creative blocks, including weight loss, stress reduction, confidence building, and, well, you name it. The list goes on and on. If you have a goal with an obstacle between you and it, chances are hypnosis will help you find a way over, under, around, or through that obstacle. Hypnotherapy has become my main interest lately. Now I even have my own office, where I see clients on Sundays. I also treat them over the phone and through downloads and CDs. I've got a new web site devoted entirely to my hypnotherapy, complete with testimonials. Check it out here: rewritingmylife.com. Who would've thought?

Channeling a Character

I borrowed the exercise for my very last class at the conference from my study of intuition. Ever heard of psychometry? That's when you hold an object, and receive information about its owner from it. So I thought we could do something like that to get info about a new character. I collected a bunch of items (some of them came from the Humane Society Thrift Store), and I gave one item each to my students. I instructed them to hold the items in their non-dominant hands and write in the first person about a new character. I added, "We're just pretending." I didn't want them to think I actually expected them to channel a character.

For the first exercise, a student named Dennis asked for an object that would belong to a girl. I gave him an earring with a picture of a baby on it. In his piece, writing as a teenage girl, he explained the awkwardness of only having only one pierced ear, attributing it to a keloid. His girl character added that on the plus side of having a single piercing was the fact that if she lost one earring, she could still use the remaining one.

The baby earring was one of the objects that belonged to me. When I was 18, I developed a keloid on my left ear. I had it removed, but that's why I only have one pierced ear. Most people don't notice this, as my hair is longish. And I only have one of those baby earrings; I lost the other one.

Writing Assignments

Yesterday at the conference, I did my Jumpstarts class, which I thought went rather well. So I'm going to share with you the Jumpstarts I used on my class. Get your timer and write something!

Prompt
Use this sentence somewhere in your piece:
Unfortunately, things fell apart almost immediately.

Juxtapositions
Write a piece that includes this combination of things (I let them choose from a couple on this list):
A wet suit and a fax machine.
Housework and a war
Movie candy and a clairvoyant
A Blackberry, a hunting knife, and dirty socks
A pumpkin pie and a flat tire

Situations
Write about:
Someone wearing absolutely the wrong clothes.
The eleventh day of a journey.
Someone moving painfully slowly in a situation requiring speed

I had never tried the juxtapositions before, and the results were excellent. The writers came up with original pieces, all quite different from one another.

LJWC

Today at the La Jolla Writer's Conference, I am teaching "Jumpstarts" (prompts) and "Turning up the Flow," which is about increasing productivity. Tomorrow, I do a class on essay and memoir (not sure how I agreed to that one) and three critique sessions. Sunday afternoon, if anyone is still there, I'll do a class on developing a new character.

I'll try to post some updates and let you know how it's going!

Magic

A few weeks ago, when the Bruce Springsteen tickets went on sale for the "Magic" tour's shows at the Los Angeles Sports Arena, I was poised at my computer, ready to scoop up 3 tickets (for myself, my husband, and our son) the second, the very instant they were available. My credit card number already saved. I knew my password. I was so ready click "Find Tickets!" So were a few other people apparently, because I could not buy 3 tickets to save my life. Panic! What if we couldn't go?! What if all the tickets got sold to other people! Well, that just couldn't happen. Absolutely not. Precious moments were ticking by. I tried for 2 tickets. Again the message came back that no tickets were available. So I tried for 1. I got it! I did that two more times, and I had 3 seats, albeit singles in different sections. But fine, we could watch the show and compare notes on the way home. "Thank God!" our son said. "I don't want to sit with you guys."

Yesterday was the big day. We zoomed up to LA after my son and husband got home from school and work, respectively. We found a meeting place in front of the West Entrance near some pictures of people playing some sport or other. (Hockey? Basketball? Not important.) Then we all went to find our seats. After I found mine, I went to my son's. I said, "See that big red 15 on the wall over there? I'm sitting right in front of that." A searing glare hit me like a radioactive laser beam. "OK, then, I'll just be off to my seat now, shall I?" I didn't wait for an answer.

I was in seat 11. In seat 10 was a man with white hair. An old dude. Oh, wait. I guess I had some hair that color before I had it done on Sunday. The man asked me if I was one of Larry's friends, too. I said, "No, I don't believe I have had the pleasure of meeting Larry." Apparently, Larry had bought quite a number of seats in this row and in some other rows too. And he had also flown to New York for two other Bruce shows. I said, "I can understand that." So the man next to me--let's just call him "John" or "Mike" or "Bill" to keep it simple, OK? I didn't get his name--"Bill" said, "Years ago, this was waaaaay back in the seventies, I went to another Bruce show next door here at the Colisseum. That's a huge place. Too big."

I said to "Bill," "I think you're talking about The River tour. That was in '81. Good show. I was there, too." That was the first time I saw Bruce hold the mic for the audience, who sang together,

Got a wife and kids in Baltimore, Jack
I went out for a ride, and I never went back.
Like a river that don't know where's flowing,
I took a wrong turn, and I just kept going.

Now lots of people let the audience sing their songs--Bon Jovi, Tom Petty--but that was the first time I'd seen that happen.

"Great show," "Bill" agreed. "You're right. It was '81." We chatted. "Bill"'s wife doesn't like Bruce. "Too much hype, back when--"

"Born to Run came out."

"Exactly," "Bill" said. He'd missed the shows at The Staples Center. (My husband and I went to two of those.) He'd been to a couple of others that he told me about. And I told him about some. The County Bowl in Santa Barbara. Madison Square Garden. The show in Atlanta--I drove 18 hours to get there--that was canceled because Bruce had a sore throat. Lots of shows over lots of years. "He's great," "Bill" said. "He just keeps changing and evolving and growing. You gotta love him for that."

"You do," I agreed. "You sure do."

A lot of seats were still empty and the house lights were still on, even though it was past the official start time. There was no sign of Larry, either. We watched roadies tune guitars on stage. One of them let fly with the opening licks of "Radio Nowhere," probably setting off a wave of panic in the hot-dog line.

"And the lyrics!" "Bill" put a hand to his heart.

"Killer," I said, shaking my head in admiration.

"Layers of meaning," said "Bill."

"You're so right," I agreed. I didn't get into the unexplained mystery of how lyrics about misery, despair, and the gaping space between the way things were supposed to be and the way they actually turned out can elevate thousands of people to simultaneous euphoria. That's just too hard to put into words, indefinable, like intuition, or, well, magic.

"Bill" is a programmer, he told me. Freelance, I take it, because right now, he's working at home in a desert community in eastern San Diego County, but last year, he commuted to LA. His wife takes care of an elderly person. He didn't ask what I did. "Hey, what's taking so long?" "Bill" looked at his watch, then at the empty stage. His friend still hadn't materialized, either. "I can't call Larry and find out where they are," he said, "because they're, you know, sort of opposed to cell phones, so they don't have one." He shook his head. "I guess I'll get a beer. You want one?"

"I'm good," I said. "Thanks, though."

"Bill" had just made it back with his beer when the lights went down, and the place exploded. The first song was "Radio Nowhere." "Bill" and I and most of the other old people remained on our feet and in motion for the next 2 1/2 hours. My fist pumped to the words, "No retreat, baby, no surrender!" I held my lighted cell phone aloft when called upon to do so. It was a good thing that the music was about as loud as an airplane taking off in the same room, because the noise made it hard for people to hear me singing. And I was singing. A lot. But so were "Bill" and a lot of other people. By the time they got to "Born to Run" during the encore, I could feel the building moving under my feet.

After the show, I found my husband and son, and we began our long, slow journey out of the parking lot. "Did you love it?" I asked our son. I got the radioactive laser glare. "Did you dance?" I asked my husband. "Did you sing and everything?"

My husband shook his head emphatically. "I don't do that." He loves Bruce as much as the next guy, but dancing and singing and pumping his fist in the air? That's downright undignified.

I can't tell you how happy I was about scoring those 3 single tickets in 3 different sections, which allowed us to enjoy 3 separate but perfect concert experiences.

Moving Forward

As most of you know, we are back in our house, which was untouched by the recent fires. Thank you all for the good thoughts sent our way. And now we all have to send more good thoughts and other forms of help to the many who will have a much bigger task of putting their homes and lives back together.

Moving on, we are going to a Bruce Springsteen concert tonight, which is sure to lift our spirits. I can't wait!!

It is almost time for the La Jolla Writers Conference. I am teaching a LOT of classes. I better figure our what I'm going to say, don't you think? That will be my focus for this week. Looking forward to seeing some of you at the conference.

Mandatory Evacuation

As you may know, our house is located in the area of about 12 raging wild fires. Humidity: 0. Wind: 30-60 mph. Luckily, we are all fine. I am very grateful.

Now apparently some people have trouble with the term "Mandatory Evacuation." So let's break it down, OK? First, it means, you have to, no choice, this decision has been made for you. It doesn't mean "Maybe other people should, but not you, unless you feel like it." Second, it means, "Go! Now!" It does not mean "Hang out. Wait. See what happens." You guys, I can't tell you how much resistance I encountered to this seemingly self-explanatory term and in my own house.

So I'm here in a lovely air-conditioned Mariott TownePlace Suites with our son (who is not happy to be here), the two cats, and the dog. Our daughter is at school nearby. My husband? He went to work.

Cell Phone Soup

Our daughter moved into her university apartment over the weekend. The place looks like a resort. Never mind that her dad and I would gladly trade places with her. The complex has a swimming pool and a Jacuzzi; basketball courts; and tree-lined, brick streets. The unit has two bright bedrooms with adjoining bathrooms; a living room; and a small, uncluttered kitchen. Sorry, I said never mind, didn't I? Forgot.

Last year, our daughter was not at all pleased with the cafeteria meals in the dorm. This year, she is determined that things will be different. She has a plan: She is going to cook for herself, even though all she can remember making in her 19 years are two batches of brownies from mix.

We bought her a Crock-Pot and a food processor. Like her mother, she's a vegetarian. Yesterday was her first cooking adventure, lentil soup, and I got to participate over the phone. It started with this:

"OK, I'm in the store. What should I buy?"
"Onion, garlic, celery--"
"Wait! Hold it. I'll call you back after I find the celery."

Somewhere in the middle of the tutorial was this:

"I can't close the food processor."
"The slicing part of the blade is supposed to be at the top with the stem down. Like an umbrella. Is that how you have it?"
"Oh. Whoops. OK, got it."

At the end of the day, scores of calls later, we had this exchange:

"How was the soup?"
"Kind of dry."
"So you added more water?"
"Oh. No. But it tasted good. I was pretty impressed with myself."

With a cell phone and a Crock-Pot, this independence thing is a snap.

Intuition Practice

I have been reading The Complete Idiot's Guide to Psychic Awareness by Lynn A. Robinson and Katherine A. Gleason. Right after I bought this book, a couple of years ago, I decided it was way too basic, so I didn't really read much of it. (I am not a complete idiot, after all, maybe just a partial one.) But all of a sudden this week, I decided that this was the book I needed right now. It is pretty basic, but it has a LOT of good practice exercises. So I've been predicting what the main picture on the New York Times web site home page will be, whether the stock market will be up or down, and what my friends will say before I talk to them.

The way intuition practice helps my writing is that it allows me to be comfortable with not knowing the right answer but choosing something anyway. And it helps me to learn to "feel" what's happening before I can see it. Intuition and creativity are closely related in my mind, so it's good for me to practice both every day.

The Up Side of Falling Down

One more post on this topic, and then I'm done (I think).

Not only was there a profound message in the experience, but also actual good things happened because I fell on my face. Here they are.

1. Due to dental issues, I can't chew; I am losing weight! Woohoo!
2. People have been so nice to me! Take my husband, for instance. All last week, he shopped, he cooked, and he called multiple times from work to find out if I was OK! (I was.)
3. I got presents. My two-houses-down neighbor Julie, who only has to wait until Sunday, and then she is leaving home for UCLA, has brought me homemade oatmeal chocolate chip cookies TWICE. (I can't chew them, but we all know there are ways around that.) My next-door-neighbor Sumita brought over some really yummy Indian red lentils.
4. Bad experiences make great fiction. I'll use this somewhere.

Even taking the up side into account, it was a rough week. So it was a real treat for me to speak to a wonderful book group yesterday about The Answer Is Yes. (If I had a picture of them, I'd post it, but they were in Maryland, and I was in San Diego.) Whenever I talk to a group like this--smart, funny women, who truly get my books--it makes all the headaches of writing worth it. I was encouraged, touched, and grateful! Thanks for inviting me, Lisa!

The Cosmic Meaning of Falling on My Face

I'd like you to meet Dr. Ellen Miyashiro. We started seeing her when we moved to San Diego in 1990. Lately, Dr. Miyashiro and I have been spending more time together. Today, for example, we hung out all morning, even though she doesn't normally work on Fridays. She came in specially for me. Dr. Miyashiro is exactly the kind of dentist you want to have following an arse-over-teakettle adventure. Here, she's standing next to Jessie, her intrepid assistant. Jessie is holding baggies containing my broken teeth that the oral surgeon sent over.

After a morning with these two fine women, I'm all set with two shiny new temporary crowns. This afternoon, I got the stitches taken out of my chin, and all is well.

Student of intuition that I am, I believe there's a message in the things that happen, especially the big things, like seeing a guilder (see post below). Sometimes it's hard to figure out what the message is, though. Have you noticed that?

Since Monday, I have wondering about the meaning of falling on my face. I took it that the universe didn't like something I was doing. But what? At the time I fell, I was getting my cardio-vascular workout with our dog. That's good, isn't it? And I completed a book not long ago. I've been doing hypnotherapy in my new office; the people I've worked with seem really pleased. Those are all good things, right? Do I have bad karma left over from a past life or something? I couldn't figure it out at all. Maybe I should consult a professional psychic for the answer to this cosmic puzzle, I thought. But then right away I had this thought: You can figure this out yourself.

So yesterday, I took my pen and notebook, and I wrote, "What's my message from this fall?" I was talking to my intuition. You're probably going to laugh at what I wrote as the answer, because it's so obvious. I wrote, "Slow down and pay attention." Oh. Then I thought, Nah, that's just way too simple.

So I phoned into a psychic radio show. I told the psychic that I fell down while walking my dog and cut my chin and broke some teeth. The psychic said that teeth represent the family of origin. "You must be going through some kind of upheaval with your family now." Nope. She was taken aback. "Are you sure?" I am really sure. "OK, well, the dog means loyalty." She was fishing, I could tell. Finally, she said, "You need to slow down and pay attention."

OK, I think I got it. I know it's simple and obvious. I bet if I'd asked the dog, he would have told me the same thing. But that's the answer that came, so that's what I'm going to do, starting now: Slow down and pay attention.

I've come to agree with Laura Day, who says that everything that comes into your consciousness means something. Most of the time, the meanings of events are simple and obvious. But if you want to know what they are, you have to do two things:

1. ask
2. listen for the answer.

Sometimes I forget those two parts.

Arse over Teakettle: In which I See a Guilder

Yesterday, I was having such a good day. I wrote some new stuff AND I did some laundry AND I had dinner organized. I was walking the dog (for the second time--see how well this was going?) at a little after 1. We were just charging along at a really good clip, when all of a sudden, I found myself sprawled on the sidewalk, my glasses at some distance from my face. I had tripped over an uneven part of the sidewalk. I still had Sammy's leash in one hand, and my clip-on sunglasses were still attached to my glasses. Good, I thought, everything's fine. Then I noticed the blood--quite a lot of it--and I started spitting out pieces of teeth. So Sammy, who didn't seem at all fazed by my plight, accompanied me back home, where I inspected the damage. Lots of teeth (in the back, thank goodness) were broken. I was a bloody mess. When I called the doctor's office, they said to go straight to urgent care. Do not waste a moment--just go right now, they said. I called my husband, and he came right home to drive me--really fast--to the place where injured people go when they need treatment right away.

Four hours later, I said to the nice doctor who sewed up my chin, "I have never been treated in an emergency room before."

He said, "How old are you?"

I said, "53."

He said, "Then you're really, really lucky." He's right, isn't he?

Today, I went to two dentists, my regular one and an oral surgeon. (It would have been three, but the root canal guy is out of town.) Over the next eight months, I'll get some crowns, one or two root canals, some bonding, and an implant. We already got the ball rolling with an early morning extraction.

Things can change so fast. One minute I'm breezing along the street feeling smug and--how ironic is this?--in control. And the next minute, I'm face down on the sidewalk. In Dutch, when someone falls down, people often say, "Did you see a guilder?" (Only now they probably say, "Did you see a Euro?") Mean, I know, but even so, that line has made me laugh a couple of times. Another expression for falling down is going "arse over teakettle." I Googled it and found this picture. I'm sure I looked even less graceful.

This afternoon, I was sitting here with ice bags on my face. The phone rang. When a cheerful voice said, "Hi, it's Kate," I paused for a second, thinking, Kate? Now which dentist's office does she work in? But it was my wonderful writing student Kate, calling for her weekly chat about her work! Sorry about the pause before the recognition, Kate. I hope you understand. You see, yesterday, I saw a guilder!

Will Write for Bubble Bath

On another blog recently, I read about how a writer punished herself for not completing her daily word quota. She didn't allow herself to do something she really enjoyed and had looked forward to all week. Sometimes people feel that the way to writing success is to force themselves to write and to punish themselves if they don't. If that worked, we wouldn't have a thing to worry about. Most of us are pretty good at being mean to ourselves for not producing. But it doesn't work, as you may have noticed. If you took psychology in college, you may remember that as a behavior reinforcer, reward is many times more powerful than punishment. This holds for teaching a pigeon to press a lever right on up to training yourself to complete a novel. I advocate being kind to yourself every time you write. Take bubble baths and watch movies you love. Give yourself treats. Make a list of nice things you can have or do for yourself for writing and reward yourself frequently. Develop an association between writing and pleasure, instead of between not writing and deprivation. Nurture and encourage the writer in you.

And another thing. Pushing yourself hard isn't the way to get out your best material. Sometimes in classes, I use the metaphor of trying to catch a cat. If you're trying to grab a cat, it doesn't help to run fast and grab hard. The cat will always be able to scoot faster and jump higher than you can. Instead, you've got to sit quietly and let the cat come to you. When it jumps into your lap, make it feel welcome and give it affection. It's the same with writing. Be there every day for it and love it (and yourself) when it comes.

Does My Dog Look Fat?

When we adopted our dog, Sammy, he was overweight. I might have mentioned that he was an only pet of an elderly woman before we got him. She had to move to a nursing home. Otherwise, I'm sure she never would have given him up. One thing we noticed about Sammy immediately was that he did not seem familiar with dog food. When I'd put his bowl of food on the floor, he'd sniff at it and walk away. But when we sat down at the table for our dinner, Sammy would come over to the table and sit, looking up at us as if expecting a reward for his awesome behavior.

The first time I took him to the vet, the doctor brought out an illustrated chart titled "Canine Obesity." The skinniest possible dog was labeled 1, and the fattest possible dog was labeled 5. "Sammy is 4.5," the vet informed me. "He has probably been living on table scraps." I pictured lasagna and Oreos. He outlined the dangers of obesity in dogs: diabetes, heart disease, and shortened life span were among them. Sammy weighed 33 pounds; he should weigh 28, according to the vet.

Before:
(That's my mom, drawing a portrait of one of our cats, as Sammy strolls by--on his way to the kitchen, of course.)

Five pounds are no biggie, right? Sammy went on a strict diet and exercise program. I measured his food meticulously, and we never EVER gave him human food. I walked him twice a day. This was more complicated than it seems. He had never walked on a leash before. At first, about every half block, he stopped, lowered his head, and planted his splayed feet firmly on the sidewalk. "Aww," passersby would comment, "Puppy wants to go home. Puppy's tired." I'd snap the leash and say "Ch!" just like Cesar Millan on The Dog Whisperer, and eventually, Sammy would follow me . . . for 20 yards until he stopped again. When we got home, even if we'd only managed half a mile, Sammy would pant and puff for several minutes. I kept it up, though. I was relentless. At first, it wasn't much fun for either of us. Diabetes, heart disease, shortened life span, I reminded myself, forcing us both out the front door.

There were a couple of diet setbacks. Once I found him standing on my son's bed, devouring a left-behind chocolate chip muffin. Another time, I caught him trotting down the hall carrying a white MacDonald's bag in his teeth. But for the most part, he stuck with the program. He had no choice.

After a month, he had to go back to he vet again (ear infection), and I worried that I'd find out I was starving and overexercising him. The weight drop would be dramatic, I imagined, after all of my hard work, and the vet would admonish me to ease off. Sammy was down by half a pound. "Good job, Sammy!" the vet said, high-fiving his paw. "Keep it up!" Half a pound?! I thought. Is that all?

As more time passed, Sammy's walks improved. After 3 months, he actually got used to walking on the leash. Now I could easily take him 2.5 miles twice a day. (Note that this took considerably longer than the 5 minutes it takes Cesar with even the most difficult dog on TV. What's up with that? Must be my pronunciation of "Ch!") On the weekends, my husband walked Sammy 3 miles in the morning and the kids each took him on a shorter walk during the day. He ate dog food and lay down in another room while we ate dinner. We started to see a slight indentation between his ribs and his hips at his "waist." After 6 months, he had lost 3 pounds. We were all so proud!

After:

(That's my daughter out for a coffee with Sammy.)

Then we went on vacation. A very kind friend allowed Sammy to stay at her house. I gave her his leash, his bed, and his food with strict instructions: "Sammy gets 1 1/4 C. dog food per day ONLY." I got emails about Sammy's vacation: "Sammy's enjoying his daily social time with all the doggies in the neighborhood!" and "We're taking him to Mammoth for the weekend!" Life was good.

Maybe it wasn't all good. He chewed up a pair of underpants and the handle of a suitcase, and he made a couple of "mistakes" in my friend's beautiful, clean house. And when I picked him up, he looked different. "Did you get him shampooed?" I asked. "He looks so fluffy." My kind friend had had him washed. I was so grateful.

Unfortunately, the shampoo wasn't all that made Sammy look fluffy. He had gained weight. Another friend stopped by to visit. "Whoa!" she said. "Is that the same dog? How did he get so fat?" I know we were only gone two weeks, but in that time a lot can happen. His "waist" was gone again. And now, when we sit down to eat dinner, Sammy rushes to the table and sits, looking up at us expectantly. When I put his dog dish down for him, he walks away, disgusted. After just a short walk, he huffs and puffs a long time.

Back to Before again:
OK, I guess we all know what to do.

Ring in the New!

Happy New Year! I 'm saying that because my son is going back to school today, so it feels like a fresh start for new things. Yesterday, I cleared my desk of anything that didn't contribute to writing progress. (To be completely honest, though, my pencil jar is still badly cluttered.) Today, I'm starting a new project.


The last time I started a new project was January. Are you seeing a pattern here? I have several new students this month too, because they also feel that it's a good time for a fresh start. We keep each other going; it's a beautiful thing.

Obviously, moving forward with writing projects has a lot to do with our psychology. Over these many years that I've been writing, I've found out that progress has more to do with psychology than anything else. That's why it's so important to stay fired up about the work. I'd say that feeling motivated is the most important thing--way more important than whether or not you have an MFA or who your agent is, for example. Since I've been doing hypnotherapy (over the phone and in person), most of my clients are coming to improve their writing focus and motivation and to overcome creative blocks. (Weight loss is a popular goal, too, but that's another post.)

So today, I'm using the fact that it's the first day of a new school year to get me scribbling with renewed energy and motivation. Here's wishing you all good things in the New Year!

Perfect Party

Even though I have debilitating jet lag, I did not go to bed early last night. Instead, I went to a party of 15 women writers from the San Diego area. Now, this doesn't happen very often, but when it does it's just very cool. At Patty Santana's house, a whole gaggle of us came together to eat, talk, and laugh. My friends Amy Wallen, Judy Reeves and Drusilla Campbell were all there, and I met some writers who were new to me, including Sylvia Mendoza and Gerri Brooks. Amy brought spinach salad, and Gail brought lasagne. There was pasta salad, chicken, and rice. Victoria brought a fabulous chocolate cake for dessert. And I don't know who brought the hummus and bread, but it was fab. Best of all was the conversation. We took turns talking about our work. How refreshing to be in a social situation where a whole bunch of women are talking about their writing! I was in heaven! I noticed the descriptions got longer and funnier with each writer. Just being in the company of all those writers of different ages, genres, and backgrounds was empowering. This is the way it's supposed to be. Thank you, Patty!

Back to Intuitive Writing School

We're on vacation, which means that for once all four of us are together for two weeks in a row. Granted there have been some tense moments over weird food and too many hours in the car. But now that we've had some time to relax and settle into the unstructured, slower pace of family travel, we're having a good time.

Meanwhile, as much as I'm enjoying my family and time off from work, at least part of my brain is busy gearing up for a new project. You know what I mean, don't you? Maybe it has something to do with the time of year--that back-to-school, fresh-start kind of feeling that seems to come over me as Labor Day approaches. Now as my family sleeps late in the mornings, I am scribbling away in my notebook. I have ideas about characters, setting, and plot. I write every morning--nothing major, just a few handwritten pages. But it's enough so that throughout the day, as we drive to scenic spots, family visits, restaurants, and museums, my ideas keep developing, growing, and picking up steam. I'm getting excited about getting home and devoting more time to this project and allowing it to take on a life of its own.

You're probably working on something, too, maybe every day in your notebook and computer, or maybe just in your head. I know that some of you are planning to enroll in Intuitive Writing to begin after Labor Day. Personally, I can't wait. We're going to write every day. I'll be talking to you in daily emails, and individually on the phone. We'll do some Intuitive Writing Marathons, just like last year, to power out those pages. Some of us have finished whole books the Intuitive Writing way, and I'm looking forward to experiencing that with you all again.

Some of you have not tried Intuitive Writing yet, and maybe also some of you have yet to try writing fiction. All this trusting-your-intuition business can seem a little scary. It might feel like I'm asking you to skydive, and first you want to make sure it's safe. So while you're still in the plane you think it would be a good idea to open your parachute and make sure it works. You know what, though? The parachute only works after you jump. But the great thing is, if you're willing to make that leap, it works every single time. It's the same with writing. You aren't going to be able to get it all figured out ahead of time. There's no way to test your plot before you write. But I promise that if you start writing, even without a solid idea, the project will show up to meet you.

To join us in Intuitive Writing (either as a new student or as a returning student), just go to my web site and send me an email. I look forward to hearing from you!

And a Giant Woohoo Was Heard Throughout the Land . . .

I have an inspiring story for you. On May 30, 2007, a new student (friend of Cindy, one of my first Intuitive Writing students) emailed to say she wanted to sign up for my online writing course. I always have a phone conversation with new students to find out where they are with their writing at the moment. In our first phone call, my new student, Beth, told me that she had been stuck in her current novel for a long time. She'd started it in November 2005. She was hoping to get unstuck and finish the draft by September. Or she might just have to give up on this book. Maybe it wasn't going to work out.

Now, it's a huge bummer to be stuck, as I'm sure we can all appreciate. But my feeling is that being stuck is neither serious nor permanent. I told her Beth she was closer to being finished than she thought, weeks away, not months. I remember that at this point, she sounded a bit frustrated by my lack of understanding. Maybe she hadn't explained the situation correctly; I didn't seem to get it. No, I told her, I got it. I sent her the Intuitive Writing course materials. Beth was skeptical but willing, and she started June 1. She pieced together lots of drafts of the novel to make a coherent whole. She wrote some some new parts, smoothed transitions between old ones, and moved parts around. Looking back at her emails, she comments that this process is "SLOW" (in all caps). I'd have to disagree with that description, because 2 1/2 weeks after she started, she reached the end of the draft. She sent it to Cindy to read. Cindy gave Beth some helpful comments. By July 2, Beth had made changes per those suggestions and sent the manuscript to a publisher.

While she was waiting for the publisher, Beth thought it might be helpful to have an agent. She found a good candidate, queried, and submitted. On Thursday, that agent declined to represent the novel. That's really too bad for the agent, because on Friday (yesterday), the publisher bought the novel, and today a contract is on its way to Beth.

Just in case you ever feel stuck, remember it's not serious or permanent.