I actually dragged myself out of my troll-hole, aka my studio this weekend to do of all things - socialize. I can get a little hermit-y (yes, that is a word because I just wrote it down) after months of teaching in the classroom. Don't get me wrong, kids are great - they're creative and funny and all that. But too much of a good thing is rarely a good thing.

I'm looking at you, giant bag of M&Ms.

Last year I attended my 30th high school reunion. It was a ton of fun and I saw people that when I was a teenager, I couldn't imagine NOT seeing every day. But 30 years later, after only a few minutes of catching up, it felt like I HAD seen them every day. Time does fly, but it also ebbs, flows and eddies.

This weekend, a few of those friends and I attended a party hosted by another classmate. He has a beautiful home on the river and we all wondered how the goof-ball we'd hung out with had carved such a sweet life for himself. He's also a drummer and had a stage set up. Then, in the pastel gorgeousness of a perfect Oregon sunset, time definitely flew - backward. And what was the magical time machine that made that happen?

3 words.

Journey cover band.

All of a sudden, my friends and I were 17 again. We remembered hanging out down by the river, or cruisin' in someone's boyfriend's car, music blasting from the cassette tape deck, or tripping on the frayed hems of our too-long bell-bottom jeans.

But even better, I remembered what it FELT like to be that age - all the excitement and worry and insecurity and a powerful sense of invincibility all rolled into a teen package of heady angst. Thank you, Journey cover band!

And then I realized that I get glimpses of that feeling when I write. When creating picture books, I get to be a little kid with their hilarious sensibilities of what's funny. The first graders in my workshop classes are also persistent reminders that burping, boogers, and any mention of a rear end are a gut-buster.

When I'm working on YA novels, I get to be that teenage main character - travel that road, experience all the highs and lows the story arc provides. Of course when I look in a mirror, that illusion comes to a screeching halt, which is a very good reason NOT to look in a mirror. I'm all for the State Of Denial to be our nation's 51st.

So, I wondered, what would happen if I played some of the music I rocked to as a teenager WHILE working on my YA manuscript?

It was pretty cool.

It was very cool.

The human brain is an incredible thing. Smells can unlock memories you never knew you had. And music, that long ago music, can unlock that teenager you never knew you still were. I'm going to keep playing that music while finishing up my first draft of my WIP. It's been nice to have the company of the 17 year old me.

Just a small town girl, livin` in a lonely world
She took the midnight train goin` anywhere
Just a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit
He took the midnight train goin` anywhere

Don't stop believin', baby.

I used to love that saying "When my ship comes in". Those 5 words contained all the promises of fame and fortune - and that loot is waiting there, just over the horizon. But here's the deal. That ship seems to simply exist ONLY to wait there - just over the horizon. You squint your eyes, stand up on tip-toe to be taller, certain that if you could simply spy it, it'll come roaring into port.

Remember when you were a little kid and you and a bunch of other little kids decided after a rainstorm to find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow arcing above your neighborhood? Even when you roamed to the very edges of the parental established boundaries of your territory, that rainbow never looked closer. It's kind of the same thing as the ship, stories meant to tantalize, but ultimately disappoint. Life has one wicked sense of humor.

So, after years of at first, waiting, and then pondering the usefulness of waiting, and then thinking maybe I should be looking for a bunch of smaller boats that would add up to one giant ship, I had an idea.

Why couldn't I build my own boat?

And you know what? After I came to that conclusion, I was a LOT happier. Now I felt like I at least I had a smidgen of control. And as my friends and family will gleefully tell you - I'm all about the control. So here are some of the things I've done to build my raft, that someday I hope will reach ship status:

1. Exercise my brain. That can mean reading fantastic books, looking at art that makes you think, listening to people that have opinions, entertaining new ideas, and even just curling up with a crossword puzzle.

2. Exercise my bod. In case no one's noticed I do love me some tennis, but even when my schedule doesn't permit it, it's still important to move. It's been scientifically proven that the number one cause of idea constipation is lack of exercise. It's true. Okay, it's probably not true but it LOOKS true so that's what's important. On non tennis days I still try to move somehow. I play with the old man wiener dog and the horrible min pin puppy. I play with my hula hoop. Yep, I have a hula hoop. I'm a dork and proud of it.

3. Work daily. 2 very important words. Only with consistently making your craft a part of daily life will you BE that writer or artist rather than TRYING to be that writer or artist. But even though the "daily" part of that statement is clear, The "work" part isn't. Work can consist of sitting down and hammering out a couple thousand words. Work can be shopping for art materials. Work can be jotting down ideas, researching marketing opportunities, reading artist, writer, editor, agent blogs, or laying in the grass staring at cloud shapes. It can be hard work deciding whether that cumolo nimbus looks more like the Taj Mahal or a bunny rabbit.

4. Give while you're waiting to get. This can mean networking, sharing your ideas. This can mean offering what you've learned to someone starting out. This can also mean that you get out there in the world and find something that needs to be done. These days, there's a LOT that needs to be done.

And if you can't think of a way to give, here's one suggestion: http://memorywalk.kintera.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=336374&supid=298822955

Happy sailing.