Barefoot Writer

In my endeavor to become a copywriter (see Badass) I receive an issue of an online copywriting magazine called The Barefoot Writer. Each month, there’s an essay contest members can enter based on a prompt they give you.

Well, I’ve won the September contest. Woo-hoo!


Check it out here.

Considering I sort of dashed it off a day before the deadline, I’m a bit surprised, but thrilled. I felt like I hurried it, but it came from the heart.

This is the second time I’ve written about Lilly and spina bifida and either got published or won a contest. A sign? Hmmm….




Hello again.

It’s been awhile, about six months or so.

And what have I been doing in that time? you might ask (or might not, but I’m going to tell you anyway).

Well, nothing less than reinventing myself.

So about a year ago, the words were drying up. No stories coming out, just dry sand pouring out of me. I wrote religiously in my journal for a few months instead. Just to keep words coming. I felt I was at a strange impasse in my writing life, as if something was going to change, but I wasn’t sure how.

At the time, my husband (going through his own sort of midlife transition) had just discovered a book written by a life coach named Jen Sincero, called “You Are a Badass.” I know, hilarious, but stay with me here.

You Are a Badass by Jen Sincero

He was so excited and inspired by this book. He kept badgering me to read it. I said, “I will sometime, just not now.” I wasn’t ready to take life by the horns yet. I was waiting for something, though I didn’t know what.

In the meantime, my husband was walking 500 miles over the course of two months in the middle of a cold New England winter to bring awareness to volunteerism. He walked along the roads and highways of our area in single digit weather, holding homemade signs that said “Thank a Volunteer”, “If You Volunteer, You Are Awesome,” and many others I helped him make that winter.

Who was this guy freezing his buttocks off, waving signs at beeping cars whizzing by? This was so out of the ordinary for my husband, so unlike him, so…well, badass.

I was surprised, a little perplexed, a tad appalled, very impressed. I was proud of him.

Hey, want to be a badass, too! But how?

Not by walking around with signs. That’s his thing. Not with fiction. I felt barren there. And strangely uninterested. But I did want to write something. And be a badass at it. Hmm, maybe I should read that book, I thought.

And around the time I did pick it up, the answer came to me.

It was an email I’d seen years before, from American Writers & Artists, Inc., about learning how to be a copywriter. Back then, I deleted it, profoundly dismissive. I was all about the fiction then. I was a (sniff) “fiction writer”, with nose in the air.


Fast forward ten years, with a few stories under my belt, a couple of (very small) successes, and crickets chirping in my bank account. This year I turned 48. I have no house, no savings, no retirement, I’m making minimum wage at a cash register, living from paycheck to paycheck, and beginning to suspect that that bestseller that was going to make me rich is not forthcoming.

I was suddenly extremely interested in copywriting.

If you don’t know, copywriting (not copyrighting) is writing sales copy for businesses. Sales letters, web copy, emails, social media ads, that sort of thing. The sort of thing I never thought I’d be interested in doing. Ever.

It’s funny how being in a financial suckhole piques your interest in areas where the money is. And you can make good money copywriting. You can make great money, if you know what you’re doing.

So I signed up for the course. And that’s what I’ve been doing these past six months: eating, sleeping, breathing copywriting. I’ve taken a few courses, actually. And read articles, and watched webinars, and studied copy, and even created a LinkedIn account.

And I’ve found that copywriting is really pretty fascinating. What makes people buy stuff? It seems an obvious question, but there’s more to it than you might think. There’s a whole psychology behind it, a process. A system. Who knew? I didn’t.

And believe it or not–it’s fun. I’m excited by writing again. And the “niche” I picked (the area or industry you want to specialize in) is alternative health, particularly herbs and supplements. Turns out, I’m a wannabe herbalist, as well. So I’ve also been studying herbs, signing up for online courses at Herbal Academy, learning about adaptogens and women’s herbs (particularly helpful for me right now), herbal remedies, etc. I love it.

Herbs, Natural, Pharmaceutical, Green, Ingredients

During this time, I also read “You Are a Badass,” by Jen Sincero (and two of her other books), and I’m not exaggerating when I say this book has changed my life. It’s changed my whole perspective on who I’ve been, who I want to become, my attitude about money, what I believe I can accomplish.

I found myself doing weird things like repeating affirmations to myself (“I have the power to manifest my dreams” or “I love money and money loves me”), and making a vision board of my dream home. Hokey stuff like that. But you know what? I don’t care. It’s given me hope–and the belief–that I can change my life. It’s even caused me to believe in a supportive Universe. For a change.

And besides, it’s a fun read. Jen Sincero is really funny, and personable, and she says f**k a lot. So I really recommend it.

And no, I don’t have my copywriting business up and running yet. I don’t have clients yet, and I don’t have money rolling in yet. But I will. You know why?

Because I’m a badass.



Why Everyone Should Read "You Are a Badass" by Jen Sincero | Her Campus








Once upon a time, I was childless. I slept in on the weekends, could come and go as I pleased, and only had to be responsible for my own bathroom habits. Who was that innocent, carefree person of years past? I hardly know anymore, but old journals suggest she was terribly self-absorbed and actually whined about not having enough time to write. Now, I wonder what I actually did with all that free time floating around.

Since my daughter came into my life, I’ve learned to use my time more efficiently; and I’d like to think I’m a little bit wiser. There are some things I’ve learned about parenthood in the past ten years that “young me” had no inkling about. You guessed it–here’s a list:

  1. Tooth brushing is an agonizing, tortuous activity. Who knew?
  2. I am now responsible for another being’s pee/poo on an intimate level never dreamed of (especially with a spina bifida kid).
  3. Speaking of which, I’ll not only learn how to pronounce “spina bifida”, but way more than I ever wanted to know about it. Ask me about cone enemas, I dare you.
  4. Wow, I’m really not the center of the Universe. There’s a kind of relief in that knowledge.
  5. After years of absolutely no interest in other people’s children, suddenly, every child is my child, and I find them interesting and precious.
  6. At ten, my daughter is beginning to personally remind me how dumb I actually am. (Eye rolls and “Don’t you get it?” are common occurrences. Um, no?).
  7. Being a parent forces me to be social with other human beings. I guess that’s good?
  8. I’ve made the rather appalling realization that I’ll never stop worrying. Never.
  9. Having a child is truly a great way to see the world anew, with innocent, wondrous eyes. And that’s good for a writer, not to mention just about everyone else, too.
  10. I’ll never know a greater, deeper, more unconditional love. Never.

Having children is not for everyone, and there was a time I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be a parent myself. But Lilly is the best thing that ever happened to me, pee/poo notwithstanding. And I am beginning to get those weekend sleep-ins back. Which makes me a little sad, since it means she’s growing up. But I’ll take it.






Recently, my daughter and I have been obsessed with crossword puzzles. We’ll sit at the kitchen table at the end of a day and tackle the daily crossword in the local newspaper. We love them so much I bought a booklet of crosswords from the racks at the store, and we tackle those, too. It doesn’t matter that they’re fairly easy. We don’t want to be too challenged; we just want to fill those little boxes.

It’s the latest obsession in my life, one of many over the years. Something tickles my imagination or interest, and I fall into it deeply. Here’s a list of the obsessions I’ve indulged in since I was a child, more or less in chronological order:

  1. Star Wars. I fell in love with Han Solo at ten.
  2. Tarot cards. I had several decks and many books. I loved the artwork, and the idea of self-awareness and improvement through their symbolic language.
  3. Goddess lore.  I desperately needed female empowerment in my twenties.
  4. Yoga. I wanted to be like those practitioners who could twist into pretzels. I never got there. Now I just like to eat pretzels.
  5. Anne Rice novels. Weepy, tortured vampires spanning the centuries. What’s not to love?
  6. Arthurian legends. It began with The Mists of Avalon, and fanned out to whatever book on Arthur and Camelot I could get my hands on.
  7. Lord of the Rings (movies, then books. Sorry, purists). Tolkien is wonderful, but Peter Jackson made it more digestible to me.
  8. Austen/Bronte novels. I don’t feel I have to choose between apples and oranges. Propriety and passion are equally entertaining in these ladies’ works.
  9. Writing in Dunkin Donuts coffee shops. I have three in my town, and I rotate which ones I write in. I can’t drink any other coffee.
  10. Writer’s journals/Journalling. It’s the only writing I do these days; I’m not reading novels, but writer’s journals (mostly women): Woolf, Plath, Nin, Sarton.

I’m sure there will be many more obsessions in my life in the years ahead; what we cling to, circle around, devote ourselves to says a lot about who we are.

What are your obsessions? Drop me a line, and we’ll talk about it!


The Roads Not Taken

If I weren’t living the glamorous life of a writer/cashier, here’s a list of occupations I might have gone into instead:

  1. Vet Tech/Veterinarian
  2. Voice Actor
  3. Librarian
  4. Bookstore Owner
  5. Barista
  6. Art Museum Tour Guide
  7. Classical Music DJ
  8. Audiobook Reader
  9. Literary Agent
  10. Zookeeper

As you can see, my life must involve any combination of animals/books/coffee. And if I ever get bored with groceries, at the very least I can head over to the nearest Starbucks for that backup dream job. But you can be sure I’ll have a notebook in my purse.

barista handbook
Coffee is serious business, people.

What roads have you not taken? Any regrets? Leave a comment and we’ll talk about it!



List Lover


Lately, my writing has gone inward. All I want to do right now is to write in my journal, to reconnect to and renew my commitment to the first kind of writing I ever did. And that’s what I’ve been doing the past few months, with all thoughts of fiction-writing (or essays or memoir or blogging) seemingly out the window. And that’s okay. But I have to say, I have missed blogging. Blogging is a kind of digital diary, and I don’t want to let it go completely.

In keeping with the personal journalling theme of my life right now, and since I’m such a lover of lists, I decided to try to post a top ten list once a week or so. The lists could be just about anything, but I’ll try to make it interesting. Feel free to list your own answers in the comments; this could be fun!

Here’s my first list:

List ten reasons you write (or draw or paint or play music, or whatever art form you pursue).

  1. I love stories (fictional or personal) and love to tell my own in writing.
  2. It makes me feel like I have a voice (I often feel like no one listens to me).
  3. I was the quiet kid (and adult, too).
  4. I’m better at writing than speaking.
  5. It’s my form of immortality.
  6. I can live vicariously through my characters.
  7. It’s the shy person’s alternative to acting.
  8. I have a compulsion to fill blank lines.
  9. Whole worlds live inside me.
  10. It’s a good excuse to sit in cafes and sip coffee.

Why do you do the thing you love?


Concerning Craft: To the Writer Who Is Not Writing

Loved this, it seemed relevant to my life right now…

Little Patuxent Review

This guest post comes from Alicia Mountain. Her poem, “Without Drawing the Blinds,” appeared in LPR‘s Summer Issue 2018 (available for purchase at this link).

Mountain is the author of the collection High Ground Coward (University of Iowa Press), which won the Iowa Poetry Prize, and the chapbook Thin Fire (BOAAT Press). She is a lesbian poet, critic, and educator based in Denver and New York. Keep up with her at and @HiGroundCoward.

Hello, Writer.

I know that doesn’t sound like your name right now. It did for a while. When people would ask what you do or what you’re studying you’d say, “well, I write! I’m a writer.” But now that the words aren’t coming, you might feel like you aren’t entitled to your name, like you aren’t earning it. I’m writing to tell you that’s not the case.

So you haven’t written…

View original post 507 more words