Anne Kelleher to explore The Artist's Way at Phoenix Rising Center - Entertainment - Foothills Media Group

Anne Kelleher to explore The Artist's Way at Phoenix Rising Center - Entertainment - Foothills Media Group

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How David Met Sarah is now on sale on Amazon Kindle for the seriously low price of just ninety-nine cents!

Fitting up for February

I stopped at Target on the way to the after-school program and treated myself to a couple of new pairs of yoga pants.  Maybe it's something left over from my childhood, when the weeks before the first day of school were always filled with frenzied shopping, but for me starting something new always requires some ritual "new" thing.  Food is easy...the "new" thing is always the fresh food that I purchase.  Re-commiting to a fitness regimen requires something just as tangible, and not as fungible. 

In the last couple days I've been considering ways to add activity to my daily routine.  My husband gave me 12 sessions with a personal trainer as a Christmas gift, but I feel like too much of a slug to even begin to work with her again.  And I like going to the gym when it's quiet, so that means tinkering with the schedule I've fallen into.  But I also want to recommit to other things.  Today I'm going to watch that Rodney Yee AM/PM yoga tape I bought myself as a Survived-the-Winter-Holiday-Madness reward and clean my yoga mat that's been languishing in a corner of my writing room.  And something else I've decided to do is to see how many times I can run up and down the steps each time I make myself a cup of coffee or tea, or heat one up.  So far, it seems I can do about five.  I'm consideirng a tai chi class, but that may require additional tinkering with my schedule, and I don't want to take on more than I can manage. 

Thus, my intentions for February is to recommit to my fitness by working toward ten times up and down the steps by the end of the month for every cup of coffee or tea I make; at least one AM or PM yoga session every day; and a gym workout four times a week.  And every day the weather is nice... like today... at least one walk without the dogs up and down the hill.    

 

Checking in

It's been a very busy month.  Not only did I complete When David was Surprised, I began work on another story that belched itself out of my brain quite unexpectedly a couple weeks ago.  The characters are a little sketchy, but the plot is clear.  I have nearly twenty thousand words completed and lots of notes to incorporate into a second draft. 

At the after-school program in Meriden where I've been working as a literary consultant twice a week, the kids are getting into the nitty-gritty of their stories.  It's so much fun to work with all of them, even the ones who aren't particularly in writing or in telling stories themselves. 

This month, my focus has been on what I eat.  After the power outage last fall, I think my body went into starvation mode and I woke up one morning amazed to find I'd managed to pack on not just the five pounds I lost during the nine-day ordeal, but an extra five more.  Not good at all, given how sedentary writing can be.  One thing I've learned about myself is that I simply can't do it all at once, including getting my act together.  So this past I've focused on food and I'm happy to say I've adopted these healthier habits:

1.  I decided one cup of 1% milk in my many cups of coffee was acceptable.  Every morning, I pour a  measruing cup of milk and add it to my coffee.  When the milk's gone, I'm finished drinking coffee for the day.  It's helped me limit both the amount of milk I'm using, and the amount of coffee I drink. 

2. I eat salad (at least) twice a day.  I find I'm craving dark leafy greens of all kinds, and it's been challenging to explore the produce aisle for different greens.  I've been buying two or three different varieties every week, and mixing them together in one big salad that lasts three or four days.  I also toss in shredded carrots and purple cabbage.  To this, I add other veggies, fruits and sometimes nuts. I'd like to start making my own vinegarettes, but that will wait for a few months while I focus on other aspects of my life.

3.  I've cut the amount of meat I eat by two-thirds.  I've been eating one serving of Greek yogurt every day... my favorite brand has introduced some new flavors like apple cinnamon and blood orange I love.  I add cinnamon to a lot of other things besides yogurt, including coffee and tea. 

4.  Friday afternoons and Sundays are my "indulgence" days when I eat pretty much anything I feel like eating. 

5. With the exception of the pomegranite vinegarette I've been putting on my salads, I've been sticking as much as I can to non-processed foods.  And when I do eat processed foods... like yesterday, when I had some crackers, I've been choosing the ones made with the whole wheat, the soybean oil and the sea salt over the ones made with a list of chemicals. 

This coming month I plan to focus on fitness.  I've been considering what small changes I can committ to making that in the long run will make a difference. 

Can you help?

Have you read and enjoyed How David Met Sarah? Would you like a free copy of the next book in the series, When David was Surprised? Please consider helping spread the word.


Here are a few things you can do:

1. Help us social network. Follow me on Twitter (@anniekelleher) and reTweet my tweets. "Like" the book's page on Facebook, and invite your friends to "like" it, too. Share the page's content - I'll be updating it soon, I promise! "Follow" this blog and comment... comments are wonderfully appreciated! The top reTweeter, Facebook Friend (in terms of sharing and referring friends) and Blog Follower (in terms of commenting and sharing) will win a copy of the new book.

2. We are happy to donate copies of How David Met Sarah to libraries. Just email me (AnnieKelleher@aol.com) the name of your local librarian in charge of acquisitions, and the address of the library. I'm also available to speak and sign at local libraries as well. Help me make the contact; your community wins and so do you.

3. Go to your local Barnes & Noble bookstore and ask for it. Copies can be ordered, and if enough people ask for the books, the stores will start to stock them. Email me the name and information of the store manager or the person who arranges signings and win the next book.

4. Tell your friends. Signed bookplates are available...the person who requests the most bookplates for friends who bought copies will receive the new book, too.

People who've read the story tell me how much they love it... thank you so much from the bottom of my chest (as my brother would say) if you can help us reach others who might enjoy it, too. When David was Surprised will be available in both eformat and hard copy on my birthday, March 31.

What I Made Today: Win a Happy 2012 Whimsy!

For a bit of New Year fun... check out...What I Made Today: Win a Happy 2012 Whimsy!

Ring out, wild belles

I'm writing this to the sound of steady rain.  The temperature, for December in New England, feels downright temperate.  The puppies are curled up snoring at my feet.  My grandmother's little Christmas tree glows brightly on Don's mother's little stand.  The house is quiet, clean and exudes warmth and contentment.  It's an unexpected ending to a year that began with a lightning bolt, then continued on a rollercoaster of highs so high and lows so low - to borrow Don's phrase - I have literally felt breathless.

I've caught myself holding my breath and tensing my shoulders too often this past year, too...braced, I suppose, against fate's whiplash.  This year's crazy weather was a fitting backdrop for a year that brought my granddaughter on my birthday, then took my father a scant week later.   The last chains  of my connection to my exhusband are falling away - not only has my youngest turned 18, my ex announced plans to finally sell the house we owned when we were married and move to another city.  My writing has gone in a whole new direction and turn I had not the slightest inkling of this time last year.

Last year, I felt shattered and broken.  This year I see how the shattered places are where the light shines through.  Last year I was consumed with hopelessness...this year, despite the fact that many things remain the same and others have irrevocably changed beyond my control, I have a profound sense of hope and gratitude for the lessons this year brought.  One of the things I am most grateful for, is that they were, for the most part, swift and tempered with mercy.  This year I have a lot to be thankful for. 

Which is why, I suppose, that when Gina Barecca asked for New Year's poems, the one that came to my mind was Sarah Willams' The Old Astronomer to His Pupil:  "Though my soul shall set in darkness, I shall rise to perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night." 
 
Whatever the coming year brings... be it Armageddon or anything else, it's my intention to go gladly into this bright night. 

All I want for Christmas...

....is to know my children are happy, healthy and functional....

and that everyone else's children are likewise. 

Now, really....is that be too much to ask?

 

Light and life to all, it brings

It really does feel like a new year.  The world was washed clean last night in a rainstorm accompanied by thunder and lightning.  I have to admit that my only concern about the storm was that we wouldn't lose power in the middle of the finale of American Horror Story..which had a lot of satisfying moments and a few surprises. 

Yesterday afternoon, the house was quiet after my grandchildren and Libby left.  I fed and walked the puppies.  The silence and the solitude felt good.  I lit green candles and ran a bath.   Sunset on the longest night of the year found me immersed in a tub of salt water, meditating, sloughing and rinsing both literally and figuratively. 

Dinner was salad of mostly spinach - rich green seems to the color that keeps coming to me this season in many forms.  I added celery and carrots and strawberries for unexpected sweetness, and dressed it with raspberry vinagrette.  I made enough for breakfast, too, because I've learned that the more salad I eat - in almost any combination of fruit or vegetable - the better I feel. As a nod to my ancestors who venerated the pig, and to honor my own birth in the year of the Pig, I cooked pork tenderloins breaded in cornmeal and laced with the dried herb mixture my friend Rose makes.  Dessert was a scoop of sweet cream ice cream over a splash of Midleton's in a cup of coffee. 

I spent the evening cuddled up with Libby.  Before the old sun set, I brought the Samhain pumpkins inside, and this morning, we carved them up in four quarters.  With the new sun growing stronger by the minute, I'll take them outside today and leave them at the four quarters and the midpoints. 

I fell asleep to the sound of the rain and slept well.  I watched the new sun rise while I walked the puppies this morning, and noticed the thin crescent of the old moon shining behind the trees.  Blessed be. 

What if this were really "it?" - thoughts on 2012

Exactly ten years ago, one Saturday morning in December, I woke up knowing I was going to die.  I still know I'm going to die, but the feeling that morning was that Death was more than imminent, it was a granite-hard Presence that was simply THERE, filling up all the available space in the room. 

I had no idea what to think.  Ten years younger than I am now, I was on my winter hiatus from running 7.5 miles six times a week.  I was healthy, I was strong.  But this feeling - final, implacable and inevitable - had weight.  It wasn't my imagination....it was as real as I was.  The only thing that could get me, I reasoned, was a car accident.  And I had a lot running around to do that day, just a few weeks before Christmas. 

I remember doing some very fast thinking in the shower that morning, running through stages of grief outlined by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross.  I didn't have time for denial and anger, I remember thinking.  Yeah, dying today would sure suck, but so would dying on any other day.   At least I had fair warning.  If I really were going to die that day, I decided I could spend whatever hours I had left with the people I loved the most, doing things with them and for them.  And most importantly, I could savor the richness and sweetness and fullness of everyday, ordinary life... for as many hours as I had left, I could, in the words of Emily Gibbs, "just be."

And so I did.  What's interesting to me, looking back, and remembering that twenty-four hour period that Death hung over me like an elephant on my back, is how sharp and clear the memories are of that day, how much I accomplished, how fully I lived.  I didn't do much differently than what I had planned...it was right before the holidays and I had shopping and baking and wrapping and gifts to make, besides.  As a sidenote, the feeling turned out not to portend my death (obviously) but that of someone very close to someone I hold very dear - someone who died in a car accident.   Why I knew what I knew is still not entirely clear to me.  The experience, however, forced me into a state of prolonged heightened awareness that contines to affect me.  Among other things, the experience enabled me to admit to abilities long buried and denied. 

I tell this story today because the papers are full of stories about the Mayan calendar and the fact it ends a year from now.  I think it's a waste of time to argue about it.  Whether its December 21, 2012 collectively, or any other random day individually, we all have to die.  Everything ends, whether with a bang or a whimper.  That day showed me the gift that the awareness of one's own death, one's own potentially immediate death, can be. 

I remember the day I thought I'd die as a day I truly lived.   

Season of the deep

It hasn't been busyness that's stopped my writing these past few days.  Yes, I've been busy; yes, I've been caught up with all the doing and the buying and the wrapping and the baking.  But it isn't lack of time or focus or even subject matter that has stayed my figurative pen. 

It's grief. 

This year is the first Christmas of my life without my father. 

It didn't matter that there were decades of years I didn't spend with him. 

He was there, his presence as palapable to me across the miles as the ocean. 

And now, he isn't.