Best of 2020 (Yes, there were some "bests"!)

 Hi all!

2020 is drawing to a close (thank goodness!), and I don't know about you, but I need to spend some time dwelling on what was great this year.

This year was a struggle in so many ways (see previous post + 2020 in general), but some exciting things happened for me.  I started a new job in IT (I know, I know--surprise!), my son started Kindergarten (albeit virtually), and I've started working on some new writing projects.  I was also able to spend more time watching, listening, and reading, so I have a heft list of "bests" for you this year!

Books of 2020

I set a goal to read 55 books this year, and I have exceeded it with a couple of weeks to go.  Here are the books I rated five stars on Goodreads:

The Travelling Cat Chronicles, Hiro Arikawa

Once, Alice Walker

Sold, Patricia McCormick

Red at the Bone, Jacqueline Woodson

Red, White, and Royal Blue, Casey McQuiston

Untamed, Glennon Doyle (My #1 Book of the Year!)

The Prophet, Kahlil Gibran

The Boy in the FIeld, Margot Livesey

Men We Reaped, Jesmyn Ward

Intimations, Zadie Smith

The Archer, Paulo Coelho (My So-Close Runner Up!)

Navigate Your Stars, Jesmyn Ward

Movies and Television

The Last Dance: Wow.  I love a good sports documentary, but even if you don't think they're for you, this is a must-watch.  Not only did it take me back in time, but the discussion of character and the politics of the game are on point (see what I did there?).

The Crown: Can I tell you how happy I am that they had filmed before COVID?  I absolutely love this show.  The casting and acting are spot on, and the storylines compelling and complex.  It's also made me realize how incredibly lucky I am not to be a royal.

Discovery:  So here's the thing, my husband loves Star Trek.  Like, loves it.  We went to the Star Trek convention in Vegas years ago--and that's a story I definitely need to tell here on the blog.  Anyway, I was raised with Trek in the background (I was convinced to go see Star Trek VI in theatres by my family telling me Christian Slater was in it--yeah, for five seconds!).  I've seen every Trek series (Next Generation is obviously my favorite, but Deep Space Nine is a close second.  We pretend Enterprise never happened).  But I digress.  Discovery, while it has its faults, is a ship I'd want to be on.  I want to be Tilly's best friend and have a healthy fear of Michael.  

Superstore: We were looking for something to watch after binging the next two selections, and man, did this fill the void.  SO funny, yes.  But I truly love these characters, and I want them to be happy--the sign of a great show.

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel: When we finished Schitt's Creek (wait for it), we were lost.  What could follow my new favorite television series of all time?!  The answer--Maisel.  What I love about this show isn't simply the aesthetics (though for real, the clothes are just AHHHHHH!), it's the characters themselves.  This show is so--well--written.  I found myself eventually adoring characters I wanted to punch in the face several episodes before.  And I love Midge and her filthy mouth.  Take me on tour, Susie!

Schitt's Creek: I'm not even certain I can adequately explain my love and admiration for this show.  My family binged the entire series in record time and even found a way to watch the final season before it came on Netflix (not illegally--I'm not that girl!).  If you've started this show and given up after a few episodes, go back!  Once we hit season three, my heart forever belonged to Dan Levy.  What I most love about this show is the character development.  For one thing it's believable.  For another, it's beautiful.  The show perfectly balances humor and raw emotion.  The natural acceptance of all kinds of love is refreshing and lovely to watch.  At its core, this show is about love.  My god, we need that right now.

RuPaul's Drag Race: I had a student give a presentation on this show, and while I was watching, I was wondering how I'd never seen it.  When we all went home last spring, my family started with Season One and watched all the way through.  This show has so much heart, and so much glitter.  It just makes you feel good.  It's happiness.  Now sissy that walk!

The Prom: How I loved this film!  I loved the music.  I loved the songs.  I loved the writing.  I loved the plot.  I loved the casting.  I loved the acting.  I loved the heart.  I loved it.

Home Alone: Because it never gets old.

The Shows Must Go On: Thank you, ALW.  You saved the summer.

I haven't watched many films this year (yes, I will be watching Ma Rainey's Black Bottom super soon), but I plan to spend much of my holiday break making up for it.

Music

No concerts this year, but here are some songs that got me through 2020.  As usual, I'm late to the party with some of them:

"Blinding Lights", The Weeknd

"Positions", "Into You", "Dangerous Woman", "Love Me Harder", Ariana Grande

"Can't Keep My Hands to Myself", "Lose You to Love Me", "The Heart Wants What it Wants", Selena Gomez

"Don't Let Go", En Vogue (takes me back!)

"Caution", The Killers

"March, March", The Chicks

"The Last Great American Dynasty", Taylor Swift

"Break My Heart", Dua Lipa

"August", Taylor Swift

"Read U, Wrote U", Drag Race

"Your Makeup is Terrible", Alaska

"Sissy That Walk", RuPaul

"A Little Bit Alexis", Schitt's Creek

Looking Ahead: I'm excited to announce that I'm launching courses on Udemy in the new year.  I'm starting with AP Language and Literature crash courses, but then I'll be offering courses in various subjects related to writing and literature, as well as college admissions prep.  I'm also working on two non-fiction books, so stay tuned...there's a lot coming in 2021!  I hope you have a beautiful holiday season and cheers with me as we welcome a new year and say "Get outta here!" to 2020!

Where I've Been

 Hey friends,

Before I dive into my list of the best of 2020, I want to take a minute to say thank you.  Thanks for sticking with me through 2020.

When the pandemic began, and we all went home, I thought my introverted nature would not only be fine with the isolation, but thrive in it.  And for a while, I did.  I started "Time for Tea", which reminded me how much I love teaching and analyzing literature.  I was working from home, so much of the social anxiety I feel every day when I walk into work was gone-poof!  And I started reading--a lot.  I was keeping in touch with friends, having socially distanced driveway chats, and going hiking on the weekends with my family.

But sometime in the summer, something shifted.  I was exhausted.  I found myself sitting in Zoom meetings from the comfort of my bed (with a virtual background hiding my room) because I would fall asleep during my lunch break immediately after tapping "Leave Meeting".  I was always sleepy, and I had no energy.  In the spring, I was doing cardio dance classes online, taking time for daily yoga, and then, once we got our dog, walking her three times a day, sometimes jogging beside her.  Now I couldn't bring myself to get through an entire yoga flow series.

Then I started getting shortness of breath and chest pains.  If you're a reader of my blog, you know that I have sad lungs and have had pneumonia twice, so I freaked out.  I was convinced I had COVID.  I got a test, and it was negative.  

At this point, I was feeling depressed and anxious.  I was incredibly down, more than I have been in years.  I started shutting down.  I stopped Time for Tea abruptly, because it was giving me such anxiety to be responsible to others; I started avoiding friends' calls and texts, because I couldn't bring myself to talk to anyone.  I have been on antidepressants and antianxiety meds off and on since college, so I messaged my doctor to raise my dose until I could work through this.  I called my counselor and started working with her again.  But I wasn't feeling any better, physically or emotionally. 

So I called my doctor again.

On our virtual call, she looked me in the eyes and said, "You just had a hemoglobin test at the OBGYN a few weeks ago--did they not tell you that you're incredibly anemic?"

Anemic.  Why no--no one had mentioned that.  The tech who pricked my finger asked if my hemoglobin was always this low, and I told her that they always had to prick my finger twice when I donated blood, so it was often borderline.  She raised an eyebrow.  The doctor didn't mention it in our appointment.

My doctor said, "Megan, it looks like your iron levels have been going steadily down for three years."

Turns out, I was exhibiting many, many symptoms of anemia--including emotional symptoms.

I've been on iron pills for months, and I'm feeling so much better.  I did take it upon myself to decide I needed to eat more iron, so I stuffed myself with iron-fortified cereals and insisted I get a filet take out from a nearby steakhouse more often than I care to admit.  For the record--this is absolutely NOT the way to go about this.  You end up with more than the COVID 15 and your doctor reprimands you at your follow-up appointment. You've been warned.

Anyway, thank you.  Thank you for sticking through ti with me when I completely pulled back from everything.  You guys are awesome.  I am so in awe at the fortune of being able to share words with others.

Also, if you're someone who deals with anxiety and/or depression, I got you.  Let's make 2021 a healthy year.  And please, wear a mask for my sad lungs.

Why I Left Teaching: A Speech

I presented the following speech at Trinity Lutheran Church, Greenville, SC, on Wednesday, September 23, 2020.  You can view the speech here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFgUfhgNELw 

All I ever wanted to be was a teacher.  When I was an only child growing up on a farm in rural Georgia, I spent my summers playing Tom Sawyer and teacher.  For my ninth birthday, I asked for a chalkboard, and my room was decorated with little pockets and popsicle sticks for classroom chores.  I taught my family members and imaginary students.  I wrote lesson plans and tests, and I sent out report cards. 

When I was twenty-three, I became a teacher.  I taught for a year at a small private school in Charleston, and then Ryan and I moved back to Greenville, and I began the first of fourteen years teaching high school English at a Catholic school.

It was a challenge teaching at a Catholic school, but I loved my students, I loved that we could discuss faith, and I loved my curriculum--I was able to create it myself and so it was really more like, “A Study of Mrs. Koon’s favorite books and writers.”

The best part was mentoring the kids. I loved watching them journey into themselves, and it was a privilege to walk with them through it.  Over those fourteen years, I went to cello concerts at the mall, Indian coming of age rites, and many Nutcrackers.  I held them through broken hearts, anxiety attacks, and suicidal episodes.  When I was interviewed for state teacher of the year, I told the panel that I didn’t care if the kids didn’t remember what year William Faulkner died, I cared that they remembered that I was someone who loved her job, who found happiness in what she did.  And so they would set out to find that happiness for themselves.

But in January of 2019, everything changed.

Just before the previous Christmas, I’d been asked to give a talk to the Friday morning non-denominational praise and worship group.  I was thrilled.  I gave my talk on the phrase “Keeping Christ in Christmas.”  My position was that a bumper sticker does nothing.  We keep Christ in Christmas through showing his love to others.  I ended with a prayer for the students.  Here’s the quote that changed everything:

Bless their hearts, that they may be open to seeing ALL people, every single one, as a child of God, no matter the person’s race, age, gender, sexual identity, physical and mental ability, socioeconomic status, political party, nationality, religious faith.  May we not pass the judgement on others that we so fear being passed on us.  Bless them that they may have the courage to speak out against the words and actions that harm our precious brothers and sisters.

When I had my annual review with my department chair that January, I was told that I was not meeting the mission of the school.  I was told that my talk had gone against Catholic teaching (it had not).  I was told that my words might “cause our students who fancy themselves ‘activists’ to think I was promoting same sex marriage.”  In addition, she had looked through my blog and took particular issue with my recommending an episode of Queer Eye to my readers as well as Will and Grace.

I walked out of that review completely numb.  I asked the Theology chair to read my talk to see if anything went against Catholic teaching, and his response was, “No, that’s pretty much what Catholicism is all about, loving people and seeing dignity in them.”

And yet at least once a week, the academic dean would be in my classroom with a new complaint from my department chair: I had posted a picture of me with Elizabeth Warren on my private Instagram, I had been accused of “counseling students to engage in a homosexual lifestyle”, my forthcoming novel was about a baker, a baker who bakes a wedding cake for a same-sex wedding in the last fifteen pages.

For years I had supported the LGBTQIA+ students in our school.  A student cried in my room one day because a classmate had said that all gay people should be killed so they couldn’t produce more gay people, and the teacher hadn’t said a word.  Another nearly hyperventilated as she told me that her parents had sent her to conversion therapy.  One student’s sister threw up as she told me that she was so scared that her brother would be disowned by their parents if they found out he was gay.  I have had four students (that I know of) who have transitioned since leaving the school.  What it must have been like for them.  It was my privilege to hold these students and tell them that they are loved by me and by God, that they have worth and dignity.  That they are enough.

But as the spring of 2019 moved along, I realized that I could no longer give them the support at school that they needed.  I was muzzled, and my students knew it.  They continuously asked me what was wrong, why had I lost my spark.  It was because everything I said and did seemed to be taken as me promoting my “dangerous liberal agenda”.  Since when is kindness a “dangerous liberal agenda”?

To be fair, the school wanted to keep me.  They knew I was a strong teacher and that I loved the kids.  We had conversations that showed that they wanted to do better for our LGBTQIA+ students; they just didn’t know how. But I knew that if I stayed, I would continuously be second guessing everything I said and did in fear that it would be misconstrued.  I would not be able to advocate for my students--any of my students--as I had before.

And so I left the school and I left teaching.  It was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done.  But as I stood in the middle of one of the messiest times of my life, I sat quietly to listen, and I knew with absolute certainty that this is where God was leading me.  I can be a stronger advocate for LGBTQIA+ youth outside of that school where I can use my voice for love freely and without ideological constraints.

It isn’t an easy path.  I took a job at Furman only to have the position dissolved within months of my start date.  I now work in IT, which surprises everyone--especially me.

I’ve struggled, though, because for most of my life, I just knew that teaching was my vocation.  I was called to it.  And I knew this from a place deep inside me.  So I’m standing in a mess.  I don’t know what my future holds professionally.  My job at Furman is a temporary, project based  position, so in another year I have to start something new once again.

But here’s the thing.  I’m okay with this mess.  There is no part of me that regrets leaving the school.  It was the right thing to do.  What I loved about teaching was loving the kids.  If I’m not allowed to love and affirm them as they are, then that’s not where I’m meant to be.  

In these messy times, our natural reaction may be (I know mine certainly is) to actively seek.  I’m always looking ahead.  I’m a planner, and it triggers my anxiety disorder big time when something disrupts the plan.  I want to act, and I want to act immediately.  But what I have learned over the past year and a half is that the better choice is to be still.  If we fill our minds with lists, ideas, determinations, and desperation, we may miss the gentle, loving voice of God that knows us better than we know ourselves.  That voice that is there to guide us.  The guidance may not always be clear, and it sure as heck isn’t going to work with our timeline, but it’s there nonetheless.

I’m standing in the middle of a mess.  I don’t know where I’ll be in another year.  I don’t know the best way to use my voice to advocate for LGBTQIA+ youth now that I’m free to do so.  I don’t know how to fill the void in my life that teaching filled.  But I do know that worry changes nothing.  That I can force something to happen, but that doesn’t mean it will satisfy any of my questions.  I am grateful that I have a job.  That I love my boss.  That my co-workers are kind, funny, and smart.  That the relationships I formed with students all those years are still going strong.  I’m working on staying in the moment.  Being grateful for this moment.  I’ve come to realize that the messy moments are when we really grow.  They force us to listen, to contemplate, to pray.  God speaks to us through the mess.  God is working through me every day, guiding my words, my heart, and my life.

I may not know where I am going, but I know where I’ve been.  I look back and see the good I did, the love of God that I showed his children, all of his children.  I know that that chapter of my life is over, and that’s okay.  I don’t know the title of the next chapter, but that’s okay too.  Because God’s got this.  So I’ve got this.  And I am going to use my gifts and my voice to advocate for God’s precious LGBTQIA+ children, and to ensure that they know they are loved by God, and by me.  For years, I thought teaching was my vocation, but I’m starting to see, through the epic mess that is my life right now, that my real vocation is lover.  Thanks be to God.

Summer Reading!

Hi all!

I'm so grateful summer is here.  The past few months have been a challenge for everyone, and I'm hopeful that a new season will begin a new stage in life.

I'm also hopeful that you have been healthy and well, both physically and emotionally.  This pandemic is certainly taking a physical toll on so many, and there is a palpable emotional toll as well.  Please take care of yourselves.  Love yourselves and each other.  Talk to someone.  Ask for help.  Seek teletherapy.  Know that you are enough, just as you are.

Okay.  That was heavy to begin, but necessary.  Now, the time has come...

SUMMER READING!

If you've read the blog in the past, you know that one of my favorite days of the year is the day I go to the library and check out ten summer reading books that I shamelessly judge by their covers.  I don't know about where you are, but our library has been closed since March.  Thankfully we've been able to check out children's books online, because otherwise my five-year old would have me reading the same four Dr. Seuss books night after night.

So this year I ordered the next book in the No. 1 Women's Detective Agency series, because I read the next book every time I go to the beach, and then I did my book sweep through my own personal library.  Yes, you're correct.  This means I have not read every book on my shelves--but no time like the present to get going!

So without further ado, here are the BIG TEN, the bonus two, book club reads, and the extras I borrowed electronically so I can read them at night when my husband's asleep.

BIG TEN
The Handsome Man's Deluxe Cafe, McCall Smith
True Grit, Portis
The Death of Vishnu, Manil
Holidays on Ice, Sedaris
Living By the Word, Walker
Dust Tracks on a Road, Hurston
Lily Dale, Wicker
Beautiful Ruins, Walter
Above the Waterfall, Rash
The Printed Letter Bookshop, Reay

Bonus Two (Loaned to me by a friend)
The Invention of Wings, Kidd
The Book of Lost Friends, Wingate

Book Club Reads
How to Be an Anti-Racist, Kendi
Beloved, Morrison (our next read for my YouTube/Facebook series, "Time for Tea")

Late Night Reads
The Last Mrs. Parrish, Constantine
The Universe Has Your Back, Bernstein
The Willoughbys, Lowry
Autopsy of a Boring Wife, Lavoie

Happy Reading!

Thoughts on Quarantine and Facebook Live

I'm an introvert.  Don't get me wrong; I am also a teacher, a speaker, a performer, and a vocal advocate.  Yet at the end of the day, I recharge either by myself, or one on one.  I am absolutely comfortable in a situation where I can stay home, with no appointments or responsibilities beyond my personal four walls.  I'm fine only leaving home to go to the grocery or pick up dinner from one of out local restaurants.

Please don't misunderstand; this is awful.  It's a human calamity and my heart is breaking every day as sirens inevitably echo in the distance or another ambulance or fire truck drives through my neighborhood, lights flashing.  I watch Governor Andrew Cuomo every day and feel sick thinking about my family and loved ones in New York and across the country.  I'm in pain.

Yet it's also true that this situation has given me space for introspection, and I've rediscovered who I really am, beyond the world's expectations for me.  I am a pleaser and a chameleon; I can be who you need me to be.  During this time, however, I'm simply being...me. 

As I've discussed on this blog, I suffer from a serious anxiety disorder.  This is something I've been working through formally for twenty years, though I see now that it was present from very early in my childhood.  After all, I was the kid whose stomach hurt so badly when the kindergarten class played duck-duck-goose, I ended up getting sent home sick from school.

In the past week, however, I've realized that this is the most mentally and emotionally healthy I've been in a long, long time.  Am I worried about the virus?  Yes.  I'm concerned for my family, my friends, my co-workers, my neighbors, and the people I've never even met.  But there is a difference between worry and anxiety.  For me, anxiety manifests from fears that are not at all justified.  This fear is justified, and so I can face it.  It's hard to face something that doesn't exist.

I'm working from home, and I'm working hard, but without my hour and a half round-trip commute each day, I've come into some extra time.  I take walks during my lunch breaks.  I hug my kids when I go to refill my water between meetings.  I read.  A lot.  I write.  I binge watch RuPaul's Drag Race with my daughter. 

And I spend time alone.  I think a lot.  As I've noted, 2019 kicked me harder than any year has.  My heart was broken as I realized I had no option but to leave a job I loved.  My new job was dissolved.  My daughter was hospitalized.  My "person", my Nana, was diagnosed with cancer and suddenly died of a heart attack.  And all of that happened between August and December.  2020 began with a devastating diagnosis of one for the people closest to me.  I started a new job, but then we left to work from home.  Now here we are.

We all have a lot going on while it may seem nothing is going on.  And that is just a touch of what I'm carrying right now.  I know you're carrying a lot too.  That's life.  And I, like many of you, haven't had a chance to really process any of it.  I go, go, go, and now I've had to stop.  Yesterday I lay in a hammock in the backyard and looked up to the sky through the trees.  For the first time, as I looked towards the heavens, I really allowed myself to think about the loss of my grandmother.  The sun was shining; the clouds fluffy and floating smoothly through the perfectly blue sky.  I felt peace.

And then I heard the sirens.

I've experienced so many moments like this in the last few weeks.  This time is a struggle for everyone, but all of our struggles are different.  And that's okay. My extroverted friends are suffering in ways I cannot imagine.  Too many people have lost loved ones; too many still will.  We're being divided even more than before, at a time when we need to come together to care for each other.

Let's love people.  Let's create beautiful things for the world.  Let's be careful.  Let's wear our masks to show the elderly, immuno-compromised, weak, and afraid that we care.  Let's encourage each other.  Let's show gratitude to those who are saving us.  Let's get ready to hug the heck out of each other.  Let's love.  Love, love, love, love, love.  Take care of ourselves and each other.  And above all, let us show kindness.

We can do this.  Together.

Here are a few things I'm using to escape my worry:
RuPaul's Drag Race (I started on season one, and I'm almost caught up!)
The Masked Singer
Murder, Inc. podcast (OMG--a must listen!)
Disney Nature films
HGTV and Food Network (as always)

What I've Read:
Death and Other Happy Endings, Melanie Cantor
Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead, Olga Tokarczuk
Letters from an Astrophysicist, Neil DeGrasse Tyson
The Risen, Rod Rash
Once, Alice Walker**
Ritz and Escoffier: The Hotelier, the Chef, and the Rise of the Leisure Class, Luke Barr
Sold, Patricia McCormick**
The Hazel Wood, Melissa Albert
Red at the Bone, Jacqueline Woodson**
A Word for Love, Emily Robbins
Starting Over, LaToya Jackson
**My favorites of the bunch

I've also started a series on Facebook Live called "Time for Tea" where we'll be reading books and discussing writing and life.  Our first book is Lord of the Flies...come join us!  Just "like" my page, @meganprewittkoon on Facebook!

2019 Year in Review

In many ways, 2019 kicked my fanny.  It began with the recognition that I needed to leave a career I had loved for fifteen years, and it ended with a week during which I had a hospitalized child, Sweet Divinity launched, and my grandmother who had helped raise me and who had been the biggest supporter of my writing suddenly passed away.  So many tears were shed through the emotions by which I was overwhelmed that week.  As I think about last year, I am struck by the emotional upheaval of it all.

On Christmas Eve we were gifted a clear ornament with our family's name written on it along with "2019".  The four of us gathered at the kitchen table and began to write our memories of the year on slips of red and green paper.  We wrote about all of our struggles, but we also wrote about our great memories: my trip to Europe, my daughter's first roles on the stage, my son's last year of preschool, my husband's first tattoo.  There was so many that we ran out of paper strips.  We curled the papers and placed them in the ornament as reminders of what 2019 meant for our family.

It was the most challenging year of my life, but I believe that out of these challenges I have grown a stronger, more inspired woman.

Books of 2019

I read 54 books in 2019.  Here are my top-rated books, in the order in which I read them.  You can see all of the books I read on Goodreads:

Gmorning, Gnight!: Little Pep Talks for Me and You by Lin-Manuel Miranda
Possessing the Secret of Joy by Alice Walker
A Bound Woman is a Dangerous Thing: The Incarceration of African American Women from Harriet Tubman to Sandra Bland by DaMaris B. Hill
Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis by J.D. Vance
The Nickel Boys by Colson Whitehead
Becoming by Michelle Obama
Searching for Sunday: Loving, Leaving, and Finding the Church by Rachel Held Evans
Questions I Am Asked About the Holocaust by Hedi Fried
Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert
Almost Everything: Notes on Hope by Anne Lamott

By far, the best book I read this year was The Nickel Boys.  It was a difficult read, but I haven't been that moved at the core of my being by a novel in some time.  Required reading for all.

What I'm Watching

I haven't gotten to see as many movies as I like this year (thought I did manage to see all of the Best Picture Academy Award nominees), or to spend as much time watching quality television (and it isn't worth the pneumonia I had last year to get in some binge hours!).  That said, here are some movies and television shows I've been enjoying this year:

Black Panther: Smart, relevant script, beautifully shot and perfected cast.  I've watched it a couple of times this year, and it keeps getting better!

Roma: This was my pick for Best Picture, and I stand by it.  A subtle, heartbreaking, beautiful film shot in the classic style we've lost in a lot of film.  Bring the tissues.

Aladdin: Perhaps this is a controversial choice.  I absolutely adore the original animated film, and this movie is not listed in competition with that one.  To me, they're completely different.  This film had all the charm of the original but with some changes that I appreciated and found smart and sharp.

Frozen II: Let me be straightforward, I thought this was better than the original.  I know, I know.  It's okay to disagree.  Perhaps it's because I've been on my own journey of discovering where I'm meant to be, but this movie really spoke to me this year, not to mention that "Into the Unknown" is incredible and Olaf's recap of the first film had me laughing so hard I cried.

Knives Out: Man, I love a murder mystery, especially when it's brilliantly cast and perfectly twisty-turny.

Downton Abbey (the series): I rewatched the entire series with my daughter.  It was like going home.  I felt the same about the movie, though it wasn't one of my favorites of the year.

Victoria: I love PBS.  They just get it right.  But that cliffhanger.  I mean, we all know what happens, but it doesn't make it any less shocking.

Outlander: I'm totally on this train.  I can't explain why I care so deeply about Jamie and Claire, but maybe it's the fantastic acting and beautiful film work.

The Crown: I'm late to the game on this one, and, looking at this list, I don't know how I haven't watched this show yet, considering my obvious love for British aristocracy, but I'm here now and I'm all in.

Jane the Virgin: I'm so sad this show is over.  It was such a smart exploration of family, and I loved following Jane on her publishing adventure--it kept me going on mine.

The Masked Singer: This should, by all accounts, be the dumbest show on television.  When I describe it to people, it sounds ridiculous.  And yet, it's FANTASTIC.  It's the only show my family gathers together to watch live every week.

Music 

In 2019, I was able to check two concerts off of my bucket list: Fleetwood Mac and Elton John.  I love live music, and I love discovering new artists.  While one of the highlights of my musical year was the release of  Taylor Swift's new album (my favorite songs are "False God", "Cruel Summer" and "Afterglow"), I also discovered Todrick Hall and Meg Myers, and celebrated the release of new music by Lana Del Rey.  My daughter and I announced that "our song" is "Down to the Honkytonk" by Jake Owen, and I rediscovered my love for "Halo" by Beyonce and "American Girl" by Tom Petty.  I made a playlist titled "You Are a Queen" that I listened to in my challenging times.  Here's the list:

"Don't Take the Money" by The Bleachers"
"Fire Escape" by Andrew McMahon and the Wilderness
"Inside Out" by Britney Spears"
"You Need to Calm Down" by Taylor Swift
"Style" by Taylor Swift
"Work B*tch" by Britney Spears
"Halo" by Beyonce
"Bootylicious" by Destiny's Child
"Glitter" by Todrick Hall
"Let's Have a Kiki" by Scissor Sisters
"American Girl" by Tom Petty

Writing

The publication of Sweet Divinity has kept me busy this year, but I've been working on both the sequel and on Reliance.  I'm excited to see what 2020 brings for these works.  The sequel for Sweet Divinity is beginning to take shape.  I've established the theme, and I've already found the characters in some hilarious shenanigans.  As for Reliance, I've recently made some discoveries about a couple of the characters that certainly change the game, and I'm excited to follow them down the road and into the forest.

Looking Ahead
I often look to the new year with trepidation, a byproduct of the anxiety struggles I've written about on the blog.  It's a big unknown, the new year, and that makes me nervous.  But this year, I'm excited.  Maybe it's because 2019 ended so horribly, or maybe it's because next year simply has to be better.  The only plans I have for 2020 are to take my daughter to go see Hamilton (tickets are purchased!), and I'm super good with that.

I wish you a fantastic 2020.  Embrace your creative self, believe in your gifts and talents, and use this year to embrace the amazing person you are!

My Literary Family

Note: Don't worry, my friends, I'll be posting about my upcoming book release and book signing schedule soon.  For now, I hope you enjoy this little nugget that's been napping in my "drafts" for a while. :-)

I began to realize I had a literary family when I was in graduate school.  I knew that I had a passion for Victorian novels, and so I signed up for an independent study with two girlfriends, and we sat in the professor's office drinking tea, petting his dog, and discussing Charles Dickens, Wilkie Collins, and, among others, Thomas Hardy.  We read Tess of the D'Urbervilles, and I was enraptured.  I loved the language and the way that Hardy made the place of the novel so essential to the emotional lives of the characters.  The setting was in fact a character all its own. The very next semester I undertook an independent study with the same professor, this time focusing singularly on the novels of Thomas Hardy.  The first book we read was Far From the Madding Crowd, and that was it--I announced that Thomas Hardy was my literary husband.  I wanted to spend my life with him, and I vowed that I would.

But life is complicated, y'all.  Because no sooner had I announced my marriage to Thomas Hardy than I was introduced to my literary boyfriend, William Faulkner.  In a Southern Literature class, a class I had signed up for begrudgingly (because my snooty self couldn't imagine that any American could write as beautifully as the Brits), we read Absalom, Absalom!, and I was hooked from page one.  I began devouring Faulkner, purchasing As I Lay Dying straight away and soon returned to a book I had discarded years before after reading only one page--The Sound and the Fury.  I don't know what was different this time around, but I could not get enough of Faulkner and his run on sentences, disregard for standard punctuation, and unashamed baring of the complexity of the human heart.  I realized that I was a woman with two lovers, and I refused to choose.

From there, my literary family grew: my uncle, Mark Twain (because everyone knows that uncle who teaches the little kids dirty jokes and cuss words at family gatherings); my grandfather, Walt Whitman (because he's watching me all the time anyway, and I'm pretty sure he gives me $5 randomly); my aunt, Flannery O'Connor (an aunt with pet peacocks and a dark sense of humor?  Yes, please!); my best friend, Virginia Woolf (we go to marches together); my other literary uncle, Ernest Hemingway (the one who brings a new lady friend to every family event); my Southern grandmother, Katherine Anne Porter (so damn sassy!); my cousins, ee cummings and Tennessee Williams; not to mention my goddess of a grandmother, Toni Morrison or that aunt who tells me all her best stories, Sandra Cisneros...I'll stop there.  I think you get the idea.

I speak about these writers are part of my "literary family" because they have become such an essential part of what's made me, me.  When I read, "Crossing Brooklyn Ferry", it affects me in a deep and lasting way.  I can't rid of it (not that I want to).  Their words have become part of me; I live with them every day.

Whitman wrote that as we go through life, every action connects us with every person who has ever done the same.  For example, if I go out and look at the moon tonight (and it is a rather fetching crescent this evening), I am connected beyond the man-made bonds of time with every person who has ever looked at the moon, and every person who ever will.

When I read the words of these writers, I'm connected with everyone who has every read them, but I'm also connected with the writers themselves.  And that's magical, my friends.  Oscar Wilde (another wild uncle-oh, the puns!) wrote "The Ballad of Reading Gaol"--like, he actually composed those lyrics--so as I read them, I'm experiencing them as he did when he read the poem through the first time, or the second, or the third.

Reading is such a connective experience--it forms bonds we can't even imagine.  I love mentioning a book in passing and someone's ecstatic reply that they read that book as well.  Connected.

We should talk about reading more often.  What are you reading?  What work has most affected you?  What book can you never understand?  What writers are in your literary family?

And you know what?  Now that you've read these words, you're in mine.  Welcome.