I didn’t set out to write a book. I set out to feel better. I’d come across a book about sugar addiction and it opened my eyes enough to see my reflection on the back cover. Awareness. I’m a sugar addict. Acceptance. It’s not a flaw, it’s just part of who I am. Adapting. I’ve collected (and use) a bunch of tools that help me manage sugar so it doesn’t manage me. One of those tools is writing about how I feel. The three A’s are my AAA for journeys and possible blow-out emergencies along the way. As I lost a lot of weight as a side effect of learning to live with my sugar addiction, I was able to change attire!
I didn’t always like to write. In fact, I tended to freeze up when I had to write in school. But something clicked when I saw writing as part of my lifeline out of the depths of sugar addiction. It was the right thing for me to do instead of eating between meals. It was the right thing to do to help me think about what I was doing with food and specifically with sugar. I saw the eat in creative writing and felt a satisfaction with word craft that surpassed the hit of a sugar high.
Writing is only one of the tools I use, but it’s an important one for me. When I don’t write or can’t write, I have trouble hanging onto control. Maybe grazing sets in. Or a lack of care for food choices. When I write I can make sense of the conflicting things I read about food and nutrition. It may not make sense to anyone else, but I feel the comfort of being in the space that works for me.
I just read a blog that explored decision making to the neuronic degree. I didn’t understand all of it, but I did find it fascinating and it was clear that exploring his topic at that level worked for the writer. And I think in this case, that was what mattered most. I hope he figures out what to do with his living arrangements. I’m amazed at the higher and lower order thinking I get done when I’m writing about seemingly unrelated topics.
When I’ve been challenged about what works for me, I’ve felt a bit doubtful until I’ve proven again that I just need to do what I’ve proven for myself. (Translated: I throw caution to the wind and make poor food choices. Not sugar, lately, but maybe grazing without protein.) Case in point. This morning, I returned to what works for me because I felt so lousy after eating french fries mid afternoon yesterday and sweet potato chips the day before.
I started to read an article this week, but got distracted and lost the opportunity to follow up with what sounded like a very intelligent piece about no one answer working for every single person. There are too many variables. Outside and inside. I think it’s pretty clear that sugar isn’t a good ingredient. But I don’t think I can tell anyone else they can’t eat it just because it doesn’t work for me. And that’s how I feel about the science and data and all kinds of facts. The proof that works for me is in how I acts. I’m in control when I’m writing and not eating between meals. Staying away from sugar. Taking a multivitamin. Exercising because I want to.
I was talking to my husband this morning about how I feel like I’m just muddling through all of the author stuff that’s happened since I published my book. Websites. Marketing. Social Media. Book Promotion. Pleas for reviews on Amazon, Barnes and Noble and iUniverse. Wonderings for more books. All of the business stuff that no one said anything about when I decided to share my writing with the world.
I’m tweeting by feel. I’m interacting with doctors and dietitians and authors and more. If I see something interesting, I’ll tweet it with a comment. Sometimes I include a link to my book. I’ve not done much with hashtags, though. I have a beef with hashtags. They seem corny to me. I don’t know wry. But for now I don’t use them. #maybeIshouldtry.
I’ve been told I should be active on Pinterest. But I have to develop an interest. I really just don’t get it. Yet. And instagram. (When my daughter-in-law had her first baby, that’s what I became.) I did take a picture of my lunch today. Stir fried shrimp with veggies, pineapple, coconut milk and curry spices served on a bed of edamame spaghetti. It’s not impossible for me to learn these things. I’ll find, with time, that I’m Possible with technology, too.
I don’t have any degrees. I completed two years worth of college before I changed my major and got my Mrs. And then had three kids. I may have worked on mastering the third degree at that point. I helped my husband work through three degrees. And I advocated for my three above average children in school. I volunteered in reading and music classes and developed a fully baked fraction lesson with cinnamon rolls that the kids (and teachers) seemed to enjoy.
But back to the author thing. It’s what I am. I wrote a book and published it. People are buying it. And some people are reading it. I’ve had a little very positive feedback (for which I am very grateful). My book is not just for sugar addicts. It’s for life. Because everyone has something to deal with.
I’m an author. I’m aware of it. And I accept it. Adapting is a little harder when I’m not sure what to do now that I’ve really put myself out there. In poems and prose. For better or for verse. And I’d like a little feedback. Even if it’s terse.
I guess the adapting is to write more. To write Maureen. The author. Because I’m Possible. (And you are, too! Perhaps you could even author a review!)