Author Archives: Vicky L. Lorencen

48 of the most important hours in a writer’s life

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Doodle by Vicky Lorencen

Doodle by Vicky Lorencen

There are a plethora of important days in a writer’s life. (Pardon my use of plethora, but it’s such a keen word.) But, in my book, there are 48 hours that stand out from the rest. They are far from the most fun, but a lot hinges on how we choose to handle them.

Day 1 – The First 24 Hours at Ground Zero

You receive a rejection letter or slam into a serious setback. I know there are some who say it’s best to roll with it. Rejection is knit into a writer’s life and there’s no point becoming unraveled by it. I commend you for your ability to be cavalier, but I can’t manage it myself. The times I’ve tried only came back to chomp me. Stuffing the sadness caused tears to erupt at the oh-so-wrong times, so I’m better off taking 24 hours to wallow and be a wreck.

I say, allow yourself to free-fall into the velvet bean bag chair of despair. Lie on your back and let the tears collect in your ears until it sounds like the ocean. Ask a musical friend to set that sadistic, frozen-hearted rejection letter to music–in a minor key. Eat your weight in whatever sweet or salty concoction delights you. Imagine the source of your angst tethered to a termite colony wearing only plywood underpants. Get those toes curled deep in the Quicksand of Certaindoom. Hand your friends and family this form too:

I AM AN AUTHOR. I AM IN NEED OF IMMEDIATE INTERVENTION.

My name is: _________________________________________________________
(I suggest using your real name here, not your pen name. Make it easy on the first responder.)

Emergency contact: __________________________________________________ Genre type: (PB, MG, YA)
(e.g., Agent; Nearest Living Author Friend; Ben and/or Jerry)

While you are waiting for the Emergency Contact to arrive, follow these five simple steps:

Step 1 Check to make sure I’m breathing.
This step is especially if you found me face down in the area rug. Wave a Lindt truffle next to my nose to revive me.

Step 2 Do NOT apply logic.
Even small doses of logic have been known to be toxic at this point.

For example, these seemingly sensible words will NOT help:
“You’ve only tried two editors, right? You can try more.”
“Maybe it’s not you. Maybe the editor was just having an off day.” Liar.
“There’s always next year.”
“It’s not the end of the world.” Yes. Yes, it is the end of the world. The sun will not come up
tomorrow, no matter what that Annie girl says.

Step 3 Do NOT offer compliments, such as, “Well, I really liked your story.”
I don’t care. Your opinion doesn’t count right now. It will tomorrow (provided there is a tomorrow), but not now.

Step 4 If I look like I’m trying to put on a brave front, induce tears.
Force me to re-read the rejection letter out loud in front of a mirror so I can see how pitiful I look. Offer generous amounts of Kleenex.

Step 5 Apply ice cream to the site of the babbling in liberal doses.

To the rejected writer: Be sure to write your kind first responder a thank you note. That is, when you feel like writing again.

Day 2 – The Next 24 Hours at Resurrection Central

Today is the day you get on with it. Attitude follows action, so act like you’re bouncing back and you may actually believe it. (Besides, if you spent the first 24 hours wisely, you won’t want to curl back into the fetal position.) You’re now ready to stretch and stand up straight. Breathe. Wash your tear-streaked, Hershey’s Kiss encrusted mug. Pull on a fresh pair of big girl panties. Put on real I-can-be-seen-in-public clothes. Open your laptop. Pop open a file filled with half-finished projects. See what’s going on in there. It’s likely there’s something you like. Maybe even love. Type. Type again. Type some more. You see there, my little Puffalump? You’re going to be okay. I will too.

If your heart is broken, make art with the pieces. ~ Shane Koyczan

mindfulness and the writer’s mind

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Photo by Vicky Lorencen

Photo by Vicky Lorencen

You’ve heard of mindfulness, yes? Okay, so maybe you’ve “heard” of it, but your understanding is a tad fuzzy. If I give you a link to a delightful introduction via the lovely Anderson Cooper, can I trust you to come back to Frog on a Dime to read the rest of this post? Oh, you know I can never deny you anything. Okay, my little gum drop, have a look.

You’re back! [Trying not to look surprised] So, this mindfulness-ness thing, now you know it’s really about being aware, about being present–about being. Am I a pro at that? Oh, you little snickerdoodle. You do know how to make me chuckle. All I know is practicing mindfulness is a good, life-enhancing thing that I believe can and will enhance my writing (and yes, yours, too).

I came up with a squatty list of ways mindfulness may do you (and me) good as a writer:

  • Mindfulness improves your ability to focus. Instead of being a mind-wandering writer, you can be present for the project at hand (literally on the keyboard).
  • Mindfulness makes you aware of life’s simplest moments–waking, showering, eating, walking, breathing. Relishing and being present in even the mundanity (sure, that’s a word) of every day enriches the way you are able to translate simple, sensual experiences into words for your readers.
  • Mindfulness may unplug writer’s block – when you’re blocked, it makes you stressed and being stressed keeps you blocked. Mindfulness helps to calm and center you so the ideas can flow. Because who among us wants to be wordstipated?

No doubt, this is not an exhaustive list. Let me hear your ideas. I am aware. I am present. I am ready to listen. I am headed to the kitchen . . . (see, I need more practice).

Want to know more about the benefits of mindfulness? Here’s some fine information from the good folks at Harvard Medical School. Enjoy.

I am a human being, not a human doing. ~ Dr. Wayne Dyer

sweetness, it’s time you came out

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I know. I know you don’t waaah-NUH.

Photo by Vicky Lorencen

Photo by Vicky Lorencen

But it’s time, my sweetness.

It is time.

Come, let me take your hand. (Wow. That is cold. We’ll talk about your circulation issues later.) We both know what needs to happen, and I’m here to help you do it.

Take a deep breath and repeat after me: “I am a writer.”

I can’t hear you, my little petunia. Try a-gain. Whisper it, if that helps. “I am a writer.”

See? I knew you could say it. (Do your hands always get this clammy?) Now, eat your cookie.

Earlier this summer I was at a conference where I met dozens of new writer kin and what ghasted my flabber was that several of these real writers (not dabblers or sometimers–the actual writing writer variety–with an agent no less!) were reluctant to call themselves a writer.

Now, I know the reasons for this reluctance are legion . . .

  • I’m “pre-published,” so I feel like an imposter. Writers are people who write. Authors are writers who are published. If you write novels/picture books/articles/manuscripts or copy of any kind, you, my darlin’, are a writer. If you’ve spent years thinking about/intending to/wanting to but never really writing, then sorry, you’re probably right not to call yourself a writer. You’re more of a writer in waiting. And that’s okay too.
  • I want to avoid the inevitable questions/unwelcome comments/unsolicited advice. You don’t want to be asked, “Where can I buy your book?” (if you don’t have one yet or it’s gone out of print). You don’t want to hear, “You’re going to be rich and famous! You’re going to be the next Harry . . .” you know the rest. Don’t deny who you are because you’re shy about silly, innocent, well-meaning questions or comments. Those will morph over time, but they won’t go away. Learn to nod and smile. You’re cool. You can handle this.
  • I don’t want the pressure. You know what? Maybe it’s not a bad thing. Instead of pressure, maybe let’s think of it as motivation. Show the world you’re for reals.
  • I’m not worthy of the title. Do you need a hard pinch? Stop that silliness right now. You love words. You care about craft. You’re willing to spend hours in isolation to revise and polish. You seek feedback. You take risks. You spend dollars you could devote to shoe-shopping so you can go to workshops to improve your skills. Heck, if you work any harder, you’re going to be OVER-worthy. You can wear the title of writer with pride. You’re stone cold legit.
  • I’m afraid I’ll be asked to perform an emergency tracheotomy. No, no, lamb chop. That’s what might happen if you say you’re a doctor. Stick with writer. No incisions needed.

You recognize your reluctance. Now, acknowledge your fear. Then do the right thing anyway. Come on out. Say it loud and proud–I am a WRITER!

Enjoy that feeling of empowerment. Your bravery will be rewarded. And, yes, of course, you can have a cookie.

The real things haven’t changed. It is still best to be honest and truthful; to make the most of what we have; to be happy with simple pleasures; and have courage when things go wrong. ~ Laura Ingalls Wilder

top two tips of all time

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Photo by Vicky Lorencen

Phtot by Vicky Lorencen

Back in the day, I had the joy of teaching an introductory writing course. My classes were primarily filled with young adults who were brand new to college. And it wasn’t unusual for a student to tell me he was the first in his family to extend his education beyond high school. Knowing this, I felt a particular obligation to make sure my students had a strong start to their academic careers. And so, I would begin the semester by revealing my secrets for scholarly success (aside from the obvious–stellar study and organizational skills, and an ample snack stockpile).

Recently, it occurred to me these secrets may be applicable to you as well, my writing friends. (Shazam!) Since you’re the bees knees and the cat’s pajamas, I want to pass along these secrets, which I guess, won’t exactly make them secrets any more. Let’s call them my Top Two Tips of All Time. Catchy, huh?

Here we go . . .

1. Show up. Sounds obvious, but you’d be gobsmacked how many otherwise capable people stumble on this very step.

2. Ask questions. Maybe I’m making too much of this, but I see the ability to speak up and ask questions as a sign of self-respect. By asking for the information you need, you’re saying, I matter.

Let’s break this down a bit. How would a writer apply these two simple tips? Let me suggest the ways . . .

Show up . . .

For deadlines.

For writing time.

For your writing friends.

For your agent and editor.

For conferences and workshops.

Ask questions . . .

For me, that’s how most writing projects begin. I start with a character or concept and begin asking questions. Then, I draft character sketches and ask my characters questions.

When an opportunity presents itself, grill yourself with questions–Is this right for me? Is now the right time? What is motivating me to say yes? (desperation?) or no? (fear?) What do I need to ask before I can make an intelligent decision? What will this opportunity require of me? What will I gain? What will I have to give up? How will it benefit me or others?

Sometimes, this includes asking for help–I’m feeling stuck. Would you read my manuscript and give me your honest feedback? I’m feeling lonely and/or depressed, can we talk? I’m thinking of taking a class, what would you recommend? Can you tell me how to do school visits? Could you tell me where you keep your emergency supply of chocolate?

Other times, this may include asking if you can help someone else–Would you like to join our critique group? Would you like a beta reader? You seem a little down. How can I encourage you today? Who said you could break into my emergency supply of chocolate?

Thinking about your writing path–what should my next step be? Is this manuscript ready to send out? How can I know for sure? Should I query agents? How do I know who’s a good fit for me? Is it time to try a new genre? Why haven’t I won the Newbery yet?

There you have it!

Did I forget any? (See what I did there? Of course you did.)

Asking the right questions takes as much skill as giving the right answers. ~ Robert Half

your bill of writes

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Photo by Vicky Lorencen

Photo by Vicky Lorencen

In the spirit of Independence Day, I present to you [cue the fife and drum please] . . .

A Writer’s Bill of Rights

You have the right to observe, but not follow trends.

You have the right to seek a second opinion.

You have the right to ask, “What if?”

You have the right to laugh at your own writing. Hey, if you’re funny, you’re funny.

You have the right to leave your beloved critique group if it’s no longer serving its purpose.

You have the right to say no when a friend of a friend asks for feedback on her 1,000-word non-fiction picture book about the history of toe jam.

You have the right not to feel guilty if someone asks for your honest opinion and doesn’t like your response (assuming you delivered the news graciously).

You have the right to try a new genre.

You have the right to read reviews, even if everyone advises against it. (And you have the right to admit it when everyone was right.)

You have the right to think a certain author or book (or movie based on that book) is lame, even if everyone else thinks it’s the greatest thing since WiFi.

You have the right to love a certain author or book even if no one else does.

You have the right to prefer printed books to e-books (or vice versa).

You have a right to take a break from writing (or the pursuit of publication) if you need to. Plus, you have the right to not feel guilty about it.

You have the right to scrap the whole darn thing and start over.

You have the right not to participate in every form of social or digital media imaginable simply for the purpose of following the crowd.

You have the right to be selective and protective of your time.

You have the right to ignore feedback if it does not ring true to you or serve your story.

You have the right to pass on an opportunity because you know it’s not right for you, even if (and especially if) you’re feeling desperate and needy.

Did I miss any rights? If so, you, my friends, have every right to add more.

Now, go exercise your freedom!

I was intelligent enough to make up my own mind. I not only had freedom of choice, I had freedom of expression. ~  Amy Tan

 

ten lemony fresh excuses

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Who knows if he really did, but Benjamin Franklin is quoted as saying, “He that is good for making excuses is seldom good for anything else.”

Actually, it does sound like Ben, doesn’t it? He was a smart guy and all, but as a writer himself, he should have known better than to ever say such a thing about excuse-makers. Writers are brilliant at writing and at excusing themselves. But I have noticed, the excuses do tend to be a bit generic and predictable–I have writer’s block. My muse has left me. It’s too pretty to stay inside and write. I can’t find the time. My eyes are demon possessed. You’ve heard them all before.

So, as my gift to you, my talented blogophiles, I am offering ten lemony fresh excuses . . .Lemon slice

  1. My characters were summoned for jury duty. Yes. All of them. Even the kids. [Fist to the sky. “Curse you, judicial process!”]
  2. I have temporary typing-amnesia. What? Use a pen and paper instead? And risk sustaining a paper cut? Madness! Besides, I’m afraid I might be penphobic.
  3. I’ve buckled under the barometric pressure.
  4. My toaster is overpopulated with crumbs. It must be thoroughly cleaned. Twice. Safety first. Say, you have a toaster, too, don’t you?
  5. I have a sudden, irresistible urge to donate an organ.
  6. I must construct a cave to age my cheese. I must. Darn it all to heck. I must.
  7. My computer is locked on 6 point Vladimir Script. I can’t read my own writing.
  8. Great Aunt [insert name here] called and she wants to tell me her life story. Today. She’s 104.
  9. I’ve been commissioned to write New Zealand a new national anthem. They need 18 stanzas. But first, I have to learn Maori.
  10. I was doing research on the agricultural practices of Native Americans in the 1500s and learned how corn was planted. Corn planting made me think of candy corn. Candy corn made me think of corn rows. Corn rows made me think of that 80s movie “10” with Bo Derek and Dudley Moore, and that made me think of another Dudley Moore movie, “Arthur,” which I love. So, I made myself some popcorn (so appropriate, right?) and watched it. By then, I kind of forgot why I was doing the research in the first place. What was the question?

Use as many of these as you like this summer, but don’t blame me (or Ben). That would be inexcusable.

I attribute my success to this – I never gave or took any excuse. ~ Florence Nightingale (Well, good for you, Flo.)

Top secrets to character interviews

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Photo by Vicky Lorencen
Photo by Vicky Lorencen

I knew I wasn’t crazy. (Hey, I saw that eye roll!) In her lecture about the interior life of our characters, young adult and middle grade author Coe Booth said, “Characters should exist before we know them. They should keep ‘talking’ when we aren’t writing about them.” Coe had no idea how good her words made me feel. I wasn’t the only one who thought that about my characters!

When I began my third middle grade novel, I interviewed the people I hoped would populate the story. My goal was to become better acquainted with my already-identified main character and his family as early in the novel-writing process as possible.

Why? Well, for one thing, we were going to spend a heck of a lot of time together. Why start out as strangers? Also (and this is a big ALSO), knowing my characters allows me to anticipate how they’ll think and feel in the situations I’ll plot for them.

Based on the interview outcomes for each player–primary and secondary–I compiled character sketches. Each character has a job to do and I had to know they were up for it. Slackers need not apply!

Oh sure, my characters have surprised me already–and that’s the fun part–but hosting that meet and greet for the entire cast at the outset made a big difference before we buckled up and motored into the unknown together.

Photo by Vicky Lorencen
Photo by Vicky Lorencen

Here’s my secret for a great character interview–turn off your inner censor. Unplug the darn thing and put your mouth on mute. Not unlike a brainstorming session where you agree there are no “good” ideas or “bad” ideas, the same must hold true as you query characters. LISTEN. Don’t interrupt or wonder if what they’re telling you is factual or even fits with the story you want to tell. Let your subconscious and your intuitive side have free rein. If you can do this, you will be amazed by what will surface. I recorded information about my characters and only afterward learned how the pieces fit together in powerful and significant ways I never could have planned or predicted.

Here are some sample character interview questions:
Who is your hero?
What’s your favorite day of the week? How come?
What’s under your bed?
What’s your earliest memory?
Do you have any allergies?
What candy is your all-time favorite?
If you could change your name, what would it be?
What’s your biggest fear?
What are you good at in school?
What do you wish you were good at?
When you look in a mirror, what part of your face do you like best?
What do you like to do when you get home from school?
Do you have a pet?
Do you have brothers or sisters?
How do you parents get along?
Who lives at your house?
What’s the best vacation or trip you’ve ever taken?
What seems unfair to you?
If you could live in another time in history, when would it be?
What ticks you off?
What rule would you change if you could?
What would happen if your best friend moved away?
What’s your least favorite chore at home?
Do you have a bad habit?
Do you like being hugged?
What would you do with $100?

Consider these questions for starters. I know you can think up even better ones (and please, feel free to share!)

Why not interview your characters too? Even if you’re mid-novel, it’s not too late to conduct an impromptu Q and A session. You may discover something that will add depth or quirkiness to your characters and “maybe” even help to explain why they do what they do (or aren’t cooperating).

But remember the secret–shift your censor into neutral. Let your characters delight, surprise and perplex you, and then they will do the same for your readers.

Every time I write a new book, I want to push myself to try something different. ~ Lauren Myracle

(my) top 5 musts for writing professionals

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Photo by Vicky Lorencen

Photo by Vicky Lorencen

Disclaimers before we dig in:

  • Most of us do not enjoy being told what we must do, so if my musty list makes your writerly toes curl, you’re welcome to swap the word for something more appealing. Mush?
  • If you identify yourself as a writer, I am going to assume you’re writing (just nod here), so I don’t need to include that on the must list.
  • This list probably sounds all bossy pants, but that’s really more for my benefit. I need this list to keep me on track.

And now, on to the list . . .

By no means is this an all-inclusive list of musts, but it covers five of the biggies (for me anyway):

  1. You must remain true to your vision.

Now, hold on. I’m not talking about adopting a “My Way or the Highway” mentality. Hardly. I think it’s essential to be open to feedback and insights from voices you respect. What I am saying is, don’t be a sellout. Don’t compromise your integrity, your story and your characters for the sake of a byline. It won’t be your story any more. Don’t go creating regret.

  1. You must be kind.

And you know the kind I mean, right? Not the faux, syruppy, suck-uppy kind of kind.  Genuine kindness, to me, is as much a part of being a professional as meeting deadlines. Being gracious and kind to everyone doesn’t just make you a well-liked writer, it’s what makes you a welcome member of the human race. Keep this must in mind when offering and receiving critiques, interacting with publishers or agents (and members of their support team), and whilst commenting on social media (that last one is a doozy, and sadly, the most often forgotten). And finally, be kind to yourself.

  1. You must express gratitude.

I’ve sent thank you notes for rejection letters. Yes. Seriously. You’re a kind person, so I bet you have too. If an editor took the time to read and consider my work, I want to acknowledge that, even if we didn’t make a match. Send thank you notes or emails to fellow writers and industry professionals, to those who encourage you (and especially to those who send you treats). Express appreciation for opportunities and be grateful for the help you receive. You are pursuing your own dream. No one owes you a thing to help you achieve it. If they do assist you, don’t just be astonished, be thankful and say so.

  1. You must take risks.

How you define risk is up to you—reading at open mic, entering a contest, asking a question when it feels safer to sit in silence, revising based on some good advice even if you’re not certain you’ll like the result, trying a new genre, joining a critique group, creating a blog, going to a conference (or speaking at one!), hosting a writer’s meet-up, approaching an agent or submitting to your favorite editor. Venture out.

  1. You must give back.

Unless your name is Bob and you live in a pineapple under the sea, you can only be a sponge for so long, ya know? Soaking up is essential, but there comes a time when you’ve got to give yourself a good squeeze. Share what you’ve learned (when asked), volunteer and look for ways to benefit your fellow writers.

What about you? What are your professional musts? You simply must share. (There I go, all bossy pants again.)

In order to be irreplaceable, one must always be different. ~ Coco Chanel

 

don’t go minding my heart

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Photo by Vicky Lorencen

Photo by Vicky Lorencen

You’ve had them. Those dreams of days that exist solely in your mind’s eye. You imagine how you’ll feel, what you’ll say or do as soon as the thing you’ve longed for a long time flips from fantasy to reality.

Then, that magical day arrives, and in a blink, you realize your mind’s eye was playing tricks on you.

It was like that for me earlier this month when my dream agent Erin Murphy offered to represent me. I was near tears, but then a surreal calm covered me. Not at all what I expected.  I always assumed I’d hang up the phone and do a squeal/jump/cry combo. (Just picture it!) But I didn’t. I sat alone in my office in stunned silence.  I’ve heard from friends who’ve had a similar experience.

Why? Well, I’ve pondered on that.

My best guess is that when your brain has been standing guard over your dream-holding heart for many years, it takes a bit before it can stand down and let your heart be happy. Your mind cares so much about your safety, it goes deaf to the cries of your heart that’s saying, “This is great news! Let’s celebrate!”

Photo by Vicky Lorencen

Photo by Vicky Lorencen

Thankfully, it only took about 24 hours before my mind unlocked my heart and I was free to be both grateful and giddy (yes, I even skipped down the hall with happiness).

Now, I know there’s still lots of work ahead, no guarantees and more opportunities for rejection, trial and error, and failure. My mind will still be busy watching over my heart, but for now, I’m delighted to enjoy this milestone.

Let me encourage you to celebrate your milestones too–sending out a submission you’ve spent many months (maybe years) preparing, making the shift from beer to champagne rejections (that is a big deal!), selling an article to a magazine you admire, getting that beloved book contract or whatever achievement makes your heart smile and your dear, overworked mind nod in agreement.

Remember to celebrate milestones as you prepare for the road ahead. ~ Nelson Mandela

 

 

the smartest thing you can do after you hit “send”

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You poured your very self, spleen and all, into your manuscript and you’ve sent it off to an editor. Now what? Well, while you wait for a verdict, there are any number of things you could do . . .

Photo by Vicky Lorencen

Photo by Vicky Lorencen

A Half Dozen Ways to Go Way Wrong While You Wait

1. Revise the manuscript you just submitted–either on-screen or in-brain. The deed is done (for now). Let it rest already.

2. Eat your weight in _____________. Even if it’s kale, uh, still not a gold-star idea.

3. Whine about the editor’s perceived lack of speed on Facebook/Twitter/And So On. These things take time. You know this. You are a marathon runner, not a sprinter. The same is true for editors. Now, do some stretches and drink your vitamin-infused water, Sweet Knees. Go to your Zenny place. That’s it. Breathe. Good.

4. Follow up too soon. You just planted a, oh, let’s call it a pumpkin seed. It will sprout. Trust the process. Fretting, pestering and pacing won’t help. An answer will come, maybe not the one that you want, but it will come (most likely).

5. Check your email 24/7 (a tactic formerly known as Stalking the Mail Carrier).

6. Drive your friends, family, sweetheart, coworkers and critique group bonkers. These are your A team, the folks who will celebrate with you or console you. Do not suck them into your swirling chartreuse vortex of neuroses any more than necessary, or at least evenly distribute your crazy, not unlike chocolate curls on a cupcake. See how pretty?

One and a Half Ways to Spend Your Wait Time Wisely

Jump into something new. Or revisit something old, perhaps a manuscript you were allowing to cool a bit. Can’t stomach the idea of actually writing another novel right now? That’s okay. Write an article. Pen a poem. Do research for your next novel. Interview your new characters. Piece together an outline or road map or even a grocery list of scenes or ideas for your next project. Keep moving.

Reward yourself. Do you know how many well-intentioned, would-be authors are out there with half-scripts fermenting in a folder? Neither do I. But the point is, you finished an entire manuscript. Then you had the audacity to send it to a real editor. What are you, a freak of nature? A Titan? That’s amazing. Reward yourself in a meaningful way. Yes, yes, I’m giving you permission. Why are you still reading? Shoo. Go celebrate you!

Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day. ~ A.A. Milne