new posts in all blogs
Viewing: Blog Posts Tagged with: New life, Most Recent at Top [Help]
Results 1 - 7 of 7
How to use this Page
You are viewing the most recent posts tagged with the words: New life in the JacketFlap blog reader. What is a tag? Think of a tag as a keyword or category label. Tags can both help you find posts on JacketFlap.com as well as provide an easy way for you to "remember" and classify posts for later recall. Try adding a tag yourself by clicking "Add a tag" below a post's header. Scroll down through the list of Recent Posts in the left column and click on a post title that sounds interesting. You can view all posts from a specific blog by clicking the Blog name in the right column, or you can click a 'More Posts from this Blog' link in any individual post.
By: Sharon Ledwith,
on 3/21/2016
Blog:
Sharon Ledwith: I came. I saw. I wrote.
(
Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags:
Business and Life Plan,
Shredding,
Writer's Life,
New life,
Purging,
Author Branding,
The Last Timekeepers Series,
Sharon Ledwith,
Mirror World Publishing,
Add a tag
I’ve gotten into this purging habit. Around the middle of February, I clear out my filing cabinet, and shred any papers that are useless or I don’t need anymore. Bills, sales receipts, accounting documents, and manuscripts that should have never seen the light of day. This got me to thinking how I could apply shredding to my writing career. What am I doing that isn’t working anymore? What book marketing strategies need to be purged? What type of book promotions are a waste of time? Is blogging worth the effort?
Does any of these questions sound familiar?
March is the month I revise my business and life plan. So I thought, what better way to shred the old from my life (things that aren’t working), keep what’s working, and start up with new ideas. I love it when I’ve gone through the filing cabinet, cleaned out the files, then either shred any bills older than 2 years, or file the rest in a plastic container for a period of one year. The exception being our taxes, which I keep for the recommended seven years. The filing cabinet seems so much lighter after this task is done. And for some reason, so do I.
Sitting down to revise my business and life plan this year, I went through the document page by page, striking what I’ve accomplished under the WORKS IN PROGRESS subtitle (and feeling good about it), to eliminating what I thought were time wasters (blog hops, certain social media groups, dropping Tumblr) under AUTHOR BRAND AND PLATFORM. Blogging is time consuming, but I believe my name (BRAND) is getting enough weekly Google Alerts and views to continue creating posts. When it came to the subtitle PROMOTION AND MARKETING STRATEGY I added a few new ideas, and kept the old tried and true. Goodreads Giveaways and Book Blog Tours (only for new releases) seem to work well for me. I’ve recently joined Pinterest, so I’ll see how this pans out for me in the future, creating boards based on my characters, time travel historical settings, and personal interests. Wink.
I’m also very happy with the freedom I have with my new publishers, Mirror World Publishing, who have promised to keep a yearly slot open for my ongoing time travel series The Last Timekeepers. This year, I will have Book #2: The Last Timekeepers and the Dark Secret out sometime in the fall. I’ve already started gathering research for Book #3, and I'm looking forward to delving into a fresh story. I know the key is to focus on what I enjoy, and build for the long term. That’s what a lot of writers forget—they’re building a career, and careers take time.
So shred what’s not working for you, and lighten up your load. Remember: slowly but surely wins the race. Do you have a yearly shredding ritual? Have you removed what isn’t working for you in your life or career? Would love to hear your comments. Cheers and thank you for reading my blog!
Recently, my hubby and I just got back from vacation. We went on a Caribbean cruise for our 30th Anniversary—a trip that had been on our bucket list for such a long time. We also spent a couple of nights in New Orleans—love the energy and party atmosphere down there! This was also the first long vacation we took together (read: no kids in tow) in twenty-five years. Um, yeah. You read that right. Twenty-five years? That’s like 175 in dog years!
In the past, vacations were usually centered around family. We journeyed to our cottage with our son or camped up north with our daughters. Ah, the good old days of black flies and mosquitoes! That said, when you own a vacation home, you really become popular to family, friends, and long-lost relatives, especially in the hot, summer months. But when it’s time to pull in the boats and docks or put away garden furniture for the colder seasons, you can’t see their butts through the dust. Wink.
My writing seemed to flow with the seasons too. I’d wrap up stories and schedule a pile of blog posts by the end of June in anticipation for school wrapping up, the hot weather, and onslaught of summer guests. Although I loved seeing family and friends, it wasn’t much of a ‘vacation’ for me. You know what I mean. Someone has to cook, clean, fetch drinks, feed the pets, wash the clothes, grocery shop while others are sitting on the dock, sunning themselves with a cold one. By mid-October, I was finally back in my writing groove, working on the next novel, doing research, or picking up where I left off with my story. Oh, and don’t forget about all the book promotion and marketing an author has to do. No wonder many writers burn out!
I believe 2015 was my turnaround year—click HEREto read the full story. Every writer needs a year that shakes up things like one of those snow globes until everything settles and you can see clearly. What I saw was one stressed-out author who barely kept it together. We writers can only do so much. We need down time just as much as a doctor or accountant or a plumber. Vacations are meant to recharge us, take us away from our same old routines. We all need a period of renewal to calm our minds and rejuvenate our bodies. Play time is just as important as work time, even if you can get away for only a few days.
 |
| I found it - the 7th Arch of Atlantis! |
Since I’ve returned, I feel renewed and relaxed, and certain things don’t bother me as much. I even unplugged from my phone during the entire seven day cruise. Egad! And you know what? Life went on, and the world didn’t stop turning because I wasn’t tweeting or sharing. Being away from my keyboard also gave me a fresher perspective on my work-in-progress too, and I was able sit down with no distractions and make a plan for the rest of the year. I’d forgotten why I started writing in the first place—yes I want to supplement my income (what writer doesn’t?), but also want to follow my dream, and do what makes me happy. And isn’t that why we’re all here on Earth in the first place?
So what about you? Do you have any plans for a vacation in the future? Are you ready to unplug and relax? Would love to hear your comments! Cheers and thank you for reading my blog!
 |
| Out with the Old... |
Well, time is ticking away until our big move from cottage country to a southern Ontario town far, far away. Part of me is sad, yet another part yearns for newer and fresher experiences. I thought I was living the dream, and never wanted to give up my home on the lake. Yet, like everything, we humans need change to grow into the next phase of our lives. Believe me, change isn’t easy. But it is worth it.
So, how did I know that I was ready to leave the past behind and move on to the future? It’s a feeling; a sense of readiness. There was something inside of me that knew I had to accept the next direction in my life for my highest good. It was also gut-wrenching; like I was sacrificing a big part of my life for the unknown. My writing suffered too. Perhaps because what I was writing about had to do with a very dark time in human history—World War Two. I bet if my characters from The Last Timekeepers series had a say, they’d probably wonder what the heck I was thinking going back to when the Nazis terrorized the world. Head slap!
Once I accepted that change is good and the only constant, then things started to fall into place. Our boats sold quickly. The tractor went within days. We gave away cottage-friendly items to our neighbors, and donated clothes to the Salvation Army. We found another home that suited us to the ‘tee’. We’re still packing, but it doesn’t seem like such a struggle anymore. I even went through a grieving period—like the death of an old friend you’d feel comfortable farting in front of. Stop laughing, it’s true. Finally, the tears became less and less, and my sights began to set on a brighter horizon. I now anticipate what the future holds, and it feels so exciting. Please excuse me while I grab my sunglasses.
What about you? Have you ever had to move when you felt you weren’t ready or didn’t want to? Love to
 |
| In with the New... |
hear your comments. Thank you for reading my blog! Cheers!
I have a dream, and it is this: to make this,
the summer of friendship, also the summer of books. Both things at the same time. My idea of heaven.
(Throw a few good meals in, and it would be exponential heaven.)
Recently, with readerly hopes, I went out and bought some new books. To add to the piles of books not yet read. I don't know. I could not help it. On my list:
Deep: Freediving, Renegade Science, and What the Ocean Tells Us (James Nestor)
All the Light We Cannot See (Anthony Doerr)
The Frangipangi Hotel (Violet Kupersmith)
Hungry (Heather Swain)
Sekret (Lindsay Smith)
I also bought
Gail Caldwell's new memoir, because of course I had to; anyone who loves memoir must. Caldwell's truth talk is exemplary, which is to say that her stories are always bigger than herself. Caldwell never talks at us, as some memorists do. She draws us up at her table, gives us some tea, and makes room for conversation.
New Life, No Instructions is a slender volume—a story about a woman who has never married, who has no children, who has recently lost her best friend and her beloved parents, whose hip is finally giving way. What will send her living forward? What lessons are there in the intimacies of friendships that are built out of years and proximity?
Caldwell doesn't have all the answers; she doesn't pretend to. But she searches with such tremendous authenticity, she yields such simple and lovely vignettes, she honors those who have passed on, she is alive, she is on her river.
And she talks to us about telling the truth about the stories that have made us who we are. Words for all of us:
I've also been asked if I was resentful about getting a new diagnosis as late as I did, at least a decade beyond the initial symptoms that indicated my hip was failing. The answer is no, and not because I'm trying to be valiant. I think it's because of all the years I've spent in AA meetings, listening to people's stories. They can be terrible stories, full of anguish and fear and disrepair. But the point is not to spin the narrative; that defeats purpose, in some way, of story itself. You can't change the tale so that you turned left one day instead of right, or didn't make the mistake that might have saved your life a day later. We don't get those choices. The story is what got you here, and embracing its truth is what makes the outcome bearable.
I am unable to comprehend, this evening, the death of Natasha Richardson, the yelping loss within her family, the fracture of what had always seemed whole. A fall on a ski slope, a minor-seeming bump. And then the unreality of her dying.
I can't understand it.
Just as I cannot understand or find the language for the searing beauty of new life, the feeling I had, earlier this afternoon as I held a baby named Eva in my arms—cupped her head in my hands, stared deep into her permanently blue eyes, and sang to her while my husband and her mom talked in the other room. Eva wanted to see the world beyond my windows, and I took her there. I told her daffodil secrets, and about the boy across the way, who stands aboard his skateboard while his new dog runs ahead. His dog is like a horse, I said. His skateboard is like a carriage. Eva balled up her pretty, arabesque-ing hands and almost laughed.
Laugh, Eva, I thought. Laugh and live.
Loss and life. Loss and life. The fragile unknowns. The incomprehensible and the lovely and the deeply sad. A day past. A moon rising.
An oldie one plus a new one for this weekly challenge!
yes, this story has got through my defenses- tragic is the only fitting word xx
Events like this put life in perspective, don't they...we should all dance while we can :)
The spiders web was an extremely apt photo - all life is linked in exactly the smae, fragile fashion...
I'm grieving right now for a great-aunt who intentionally signed a living will, who's family is now in a situation in which they feel the obligation to follow her wishes. The natural rhythms of life's beginning and ending are being disrupted. This is the hardest, most ugliest death I've needed to face because it is all too comprehensible.
This "incomprehensible-ness" that you speak of is a gift and protection. These mysteries are tied up in the rightness, the wonder, of that next moon rise.
It's helped me to sort through thoughts that keep weighing me down. Thank you, Beth, for this post.