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To my friends in Los Angeles and everyone affected by the fires. I’m sorry this is late, but you are in my heart.
I’ve loved LA since I stepped off a plane at LAX in the late 80s to move there, and was nearly blinded by sunlight. After 9 years living among the high-rise canyons of New York City, I wasn’t used to so much brightness.
Over time, I’ve come to believe the city is misunderstood by many, including a percentage of fellow Californians. Los Angeles is a special place—beautiful and quirky and filled with some of the world’s most hard-working and creative people.
The picture here hangs in my home. I bought it at a student exhibition when earning my MFA at Antioch LA. It’s a photograph printed on board of the downtown Los Angeles skyline—mystical and a little magical.
Here’s my “word” for 2025. If you’ve been with me a while, you may remember my word some years back was “finish.” I’d been writing my first novel and needed to get it done. Finish was the word that got me there. MOTHER MOTHER was published in 2020. (Btw, brag alert: the book was a National Indie Excellence Award finalist in fiction.)
For 2025, I’ve landed on the word “accept.” For me, the word works on two levels. First, it’s inspired by the Serenity prayer: “Accept the things I cannot change.” I can control no one except myself, and no amount of hoping, cajoling, steering, talking, listening will change that.
And second, accept is a reminder for me as a writer. Writing is my passion and has been since I began keeping a journal–independently and without encouragement–at age 9. But so much of writing is out of my hands. Will an agent decide to represent my work? Will a publisher choose to buy it? Will anyone want to read my book? Will anyone like it?
I can write the story I’m compelled to write; I can pitch it as hard as I can. And that’s what I can do. Period. The rest is out of my hands. Which is where “accept” comes in. The satisfaction must come from the imagining, the planning, the sitting alone in a room and writing.
What I can control–what any of us can control–is our attitude toward our challenges and accomplishments. To be proud of our effort whatever the outcome. To be gratified we kept pushing and never gave up.
Today, I choose not to be so critical of myself. To accept that I’m human and by definition, flawed. Yes, I make mistakes. Yes, I fail, over and over again. But every misstep has gotten me where I am, and that’s a good place. I accept I have power over only myself.
My first marriage in my 20s lasted five minutes and ended when my then husband left me for his coworker. Soon after, I went through early menopause which meant my body stopped producing eggs and I’d never be able to create a baby.
Over the next 14 years, I moved from NYC to California and worked at five different jobs. My handful of relationships never panned out. Although none of my beaux revealed exactly why, I had my theories. I was too much of everything: too dramatic, too sensitive, too crazy intense.
I manifested Tim before manifesting was a thing. Back then, we called it envisioning. I envisioned a man who was kind and funny and smart. Smart enough not to be scared off by a woman too dramatic, sensitive, and crazy intense. A woman who couldn’t have children and wanted to adopt.
Today Tim and I celebrate 20 years of marriage. And I’ll tell you, despite my carefully curated Facebook persona, over those years–like everyone–we’ve faced challenges, as a couple and a family. If Tim is my rock, I may be his tidal wave. Yet somehow, we balance each other. We hold on and never let go.
Happy anniversary to the love of my life, my soul mate. Here’s to another 20!
