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The Teetotaler Manifesto, or Why I Don’t Drink

June 2, 2011 by Amy Sundberg

Sometimes I am wishy-washy before I even set fingers to keyboard. I think of a subject that would make an interesting blog post, and then I veto it, not because it is inappropriate but because it crosses the threshold of my comfort zone. Because it would be hard to write about. Because it would be challenging to read about. So for my last backbone project post, I’m going to tackle such a subject head on.

I don’t drink alcohol. Not at all. No, I’m not a Mormon. I’m also not allergic, nor do I have stomach problems. I’m not a recovering alcoholic, and I’m not trying to avoid calories or sleepiness.

An interesting aspect of not drinking is that everyone always wants to know WHY. On the one hand, I can see how making a minority lifestyle choice could prompt questions, but on the other hand, I don’t think most of the people who ask really want to have a ten-minute-long philosophical discussion with me. Plus it gets tedious to be asked the same, slightly-but-not-quite-rude question so many times. Nowadays I’ve wised up, and I usually mention a family history of alcoholism, which kills the topic. Occasionally I’ll also mention that I hate the taste and make a joke about how it all tastes like cough syrup to me (although this is a dangerous tactic, as it encourages people to suggest alcohol that I might like). Both of these answers are true but incomplete.

The fact is, the decision not to drink alcohol is not made lightly. It becomes a big deal, like it or not, because it would be so much easier to acquire the taste and drink socially, at least a bit. Otherwise, people will heckle you, and question you, and try to change your mind, and be baffled and uncomfortable. If I’m choosing to go through all of that, then I’m really making A Choice. My original reasons have morphed over the years to adjust to the extreme reaction people sometimes have to my assertion that I don’t drink. To give you an idea of the magnitude of that choice, I can tell you that back in my dating days, there were two conversations I dreaded having with a new date: the one in which I had to share that my mom is dead, and the one in which I had to explain that I don’t drink any alcohol. Believe me, you can learn a lot about a person by how they respond to those two pieces of information.

So why don’t I drink? My decision was born from the determination to not ruin my life the way I saw other lives be ruined by alcohol and drugs, to create something better for myself. It was a direct response to a family history of drug and alcohol abuse. But it became more than that. As I watched people around me become uncomfortable that I wasn’t drinking, I didn’t want to start doing something that would cause me to become so insecure. I didn’t want to do stupid things and be able to blame it on having too much to drink; if I was going to do stupid things (and believe me, I have), I wanted to do them on my own terms and under my own power. I didn’t want to evade responsibility for myself. I didn’t want to say hurtful things to other people because of my drinking. I didn’t want to lubricate social situations for myself; I wanted to learn the social skills that would carry me through them. I wanted to be less shy all the time and not depend on a possible crutch. And perhaps most of all, I wanted to be accepted for who I was, even if who I was didn’t fit into some neat little box of expectations. My determination not to drink became a symbol saying that I didn’t have to be like everybody else, and reminding me that some things in life are worth a little alienation and judgment.

Now that I’ve gotten older, my choice carries less of an onus. I’m less likely to encounter peer pressure about the subject. I’m less likely to be in environments where the sole purpose of being there is to drink. I still have to survive through long and boring stories of stupid drunks (believe me, they’re a lot less amusing if you haven’t ever been drunk yourself) and lengthy explanations of various cocktail concoctions or wine snobbery (which is the equivalent of talking to someone who has never played nor had any interest in RPGs about the intricacies of your current campaign). And I still have to answer the WHY question. But it seems to have lost much of its previous significance. And yet, this choice of mine not to drink has played a very real part in shaping who I am today.

I know it’s my backbone project and not yours, but I’m going to ask anyway: What choice have you made or circumstance have you faced that has been met with judgmental attitudes? What is a way in which you are different from the mainstream? What stereotypes do people tend to believe about you that aren’t actually true?

Posted in Life | Tagged , , , | 226 Comments »

Backbone Project: Link Salad #1

June 1, 2011 by Amy Sundberg

As promised, here is this week’s round-up of links relating to my Backbone Project:

An Interesting Project Inspired by Yours Truly: The Backbone and Birthday Projects, by Ferrett Steinmetz

The Backbone Project: Critiquing a Piece on Critiques, by Ferrett Steinmetz

Publishing and Your Original Idea, by Kimberly Gould

What Works in Blogging, by Sandra Tayler

Facing Blogging Fears, by Sandra Tayler

The Backbone Project, by Adam Israel

Help Amy Become Less Wishy-Washy, by Luc Reid

A response to my You are not a Weenie post
If I receive more links, I’ll do another compilation of links next Wednesday. So go ahead, be brave, and write a post without apologies.

Meanwhile, I have to get writing the last in my own series of backbone posts. Wish me luck!

Posted in Life | Tagged , | 2 Comments »

Where is my Geek Cred?

May 31, 2011 by Amy Sundberg

I really thought I would generate more disagreement from last week’s post on critiques, which goes to show that I have no idea whatsoever about such things.  In any case, it made me realize that the backbone project is really more about me putting myself and my opinions out there, regardless of whether doing so sparks disagreement.  (Also, “weenie” has become my new favorite word. My favorite word before that was “insouciant.” I think this is clear evidence that I am getting stupider by the minute.) However, I promised you could disagree with me, and I feel like I failed to deliver. Which brings us to my backbone project post #2.

As you know, I’m a science fiction and fantasy writer, so it should come as no big surprise that I have accumulated some geek cred over the years. But like most geeks, I have some holes in my preferences. Sometimes even gaping ones. I blame it on hanging out with musicians and psych majors all those years. Totally different kinds of geekdom.

Now, I figure most of you will be able to find something to disagree about in my pet peeves of geekdom list. Seriously. Think of it as your mission. I know you can do it.

1. Dr. Who: I have to plead ignorance to all the old seasons of Dr. Who, as I began watching this show with the reboot. I was okay with Seasons 1 and 2, but Season 3? Are you freaking kidding me? I was simultaneously bored, jumpy in an unpleasant way, and disgusted by the new companion Martha until I just couldn’t take it anymore. And what’s with the plots? Deus ex machina after deus ex machina. I watched “The Doctor’s Wife” and read on the internet that it made everyone cry. Seriously? I was just disgusted that once again, all the episode was about was Amy Pond calling the Doctor and begging to be rescued. Maybe I’ve just been unfortunate about the Amy Pond episodes I’ve seen (which, to be fair, haven’t been many), but all she does is need to be rescued! Yet another companion wasted.

2. the novels of Neil Gaiman: particularly American Gods. I could barely finish it because the pacing was so slow. I expect this to generate actual hate mail, so you see how brave I am being. I just don’t get it all the hype. I mean, yes, Neil Gaiman is like the rock star of writers. And he’s done some stuff that I’ve appreciated: The Graveyard Book, parts of Neverwhere (although I wanted to kick the protagonist in the teeth), that short story about Snow White and vampires. But I just don’t understand the massive hysteria surrounding him and his work. Mind you, I keep trying. But so far, no dice.

3. Anime: My geeky friends first exposed me to anime via Cowboy Bebop, and I was okay with it. I think this made them overly optimistic, because they then showed me a bunch of random, really weird and twisted anime, and it’s ruined me. I’m not kidding. Someone suggests watching anime and I look at them like they’ve grown a third head. My poor husband suffers because of it, but there it is. I just have no interest. It took a huge effort for me to consent to watch Porco Rosso and I could see that it had merit, but the ennui is so overpowering, I kind of don’t care.

4. Agricola: Gah! Resource management at its most boring. The players seem to barely interact, and the whole game is about … wait for it … being a farmer? Yeah, because that’s what I’ve been dreaming about doing my entire life. There aren’t even any silly pictures of beans on cards so you can pretend that you’re collecting an exotic bevy of circus performers instead of farming. Plus I already ran a business for seven years. I don’t want my board games to feel exactly the same as what I could get paid to do. I just don’t.

5. WoW: Okay, I’ve never played WoW, and you know what? I hope I never play WoW because as far as I can tell, that game is crack. It will suck me in, and I will run around like a mindless little medicated drone from Brave New World, and I will never ever escape. Not only that, but I won’t even realize how much time I’m spending doing essentially boring and repetitive things. Because I don’t waste enough time on the internet as it is. Plus WoW steals my friends. It makes them too busy to do things like hang out with me and email me. Which gives it an extra black mark in my book.

6. Lord of the Rings (the books): I know Ferrett already blogged about this, but I still think it deserves a mention. I like the movies. I’ve been wanting to see them again, in fact. But I’ve never made it to the end of the trilogy of books. I read the first two when I was eleven, and then I had to wait for the next library trip to read the last one, at which point I’d lost interest. I tried reading them again before the movies came out, and The Two Towers killed me. I wanted something to happen so badly. But instead it just went on and on about the trees and the pain and the journeying, until Frodo’s pain became my pain. Literally.

7. D&D: I like RPGs. I miss playing them. But I don’t miss D&D. Why not? First, because the only way I could ever make it at all fun for myself was by playing a caricature of my class who was generally of lower than average intelligence. After awhile, that got pretty old. Second, the storytelling seems to have the same average depth as my own at age seven playing with my Barbies. There’s bad guys. Must kill. Slash, hack. The end. Now there’s more bad guys. Slash, hack. Etc. I mean, there’s not even the romantic subplots that my Barbies enjoyed. Third, with the newest edition, it seems that even more emphasis is placed on fighting (who knew it was possible?) and that grid makes combat last forever. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against some fighting in a campaign, but all fighting and no story makes me fall asleep.

All right, what did I get wrong? I bet you can give me several good reasons why the things above are actually super awesome. My tingling spider sense tells me so. And, for additional kicks, you can share your own geekdom pet peeves. I dare someone to lay into Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Or Star Wars Episode 4. Or Ender’s Game. Let the smack talk begin!

Posted in Life, Science fiction and fantasy | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 113 Comments »

Backbone Project (Get Involved!) and YA Novel Challenge

May 27, 2011 by Amy Sundberg

Wow.

I have to say, I thought my backbone project idea was pretty nifty, but I had no idea what an outpouring of support I would receive from all of you wonderful people. I’ve already learned a great deal as well, even though I’m not even halfway done. Thank you all, with some extra special thanks to Ferrett for giving me the idea in the first place.

I’ve already visited some of the blog posts that others have written as part of this project, but Kimberly had the great idea of putting together a list of the links so that they’re easy for everyone to find. I thought about putting the list on the sidebar, but I never look at blog sidebars, so instead I’m going to put together a few posts linking to other Backbone Project participants.

Here’s how to get involved! First, go ahead and write a blog post. It can be a post about the project, it can be a non-wishy washy project post like the ones I’m trying to write, or it can be a response to someone else’s project post (preferably disagreeing in some way). Once you’ve published your Project Backbone post (or posts, feel free to do more than one like I am), email the link(s) to me at practicalfreespirt@gmail.com with “Project Backbone” in the subject line. I’ll be publishing a list with your links on the next two Wednesdays, bright and early (meaning, get those links to me by late afternoon Tuesday to be safe). And if you are a twitter person, you can also use the hashtag #backboneproject to label your blog post announcement.

And what is this about another challenge? Why, yes! Apparently it’s in the air. Theodora Goss is organizing a summer YA Novel Challenge, and I’ve decided to join in the fun. (Perhaps some of you will decide to do it as well!) Here are the rules, which are very flexible and meant to be changed:

1. The challenge will run June 1st to August 31st.
2. The goal of the challenge is to write or revise a YA novel, or part of a YA novel.
3. To meet that goal, set smaller goals for yourself: words per day, pages revised per week, etc.
4. If you would like, blog about your progress. Remember that failure is as important as success.
5. Anyone can join or leave the challenge at any time. It’s always OK to start or stop.

I’m going to be starting my next YA novel for this challenge. I don’t expect to finish by the end of August, as I have some travel planned this summer that will interfere with writing, but I’m hoping to get a good start and then some.

And I’m planning to try to blog about it as well. I’m not sure how that will work, to be honest. I hate word count posts, so I’m definitely not going to do that, and I’m not big on sharing excerpts from works-in-progress either. Maybe I’ll share things about my successes and failures. Maybe I’ll go off on a tangent and wax philosophical about related topics. Or maybe I’ll decide blogging about it is just plain boring (or stressful, or both) and stop. I don’t know, but I’m looking forward to finding out.

Until then, have a wonderful Memorial Day weekend!

Posted in Life, Writing | Tagged , , , | 7 Comments »

You are Not a Weenie if a Critique Makes You Cry

May 26, 2011 by Amy Sundberg

As you can imagine, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to the subject of my first Backbone Project post. I’ve decided to take on a writing-related topic (I’ll try to pick a more general interest topic next week for the non-writing inclined), and I chose this one specifically because I expect many writers to disagree with my take on it. So, onwards into the fray! (And yes, my stomach is doing lopsided cartwheels, thanks for asking.)

When I first ventured into my various writing communities, I was regaled by the sanctity of the critique. How to become a better writer? The answer seemed to be to get critiqued. A lot. Really, as much as possible. Any writer who was truly serious about their craft would join a critique group. Or two, or even three or more. Not to mention purchasing critiques from the pros at conferences and for charity, attending workshops that consisted at least partially of critiques, etc. And then post-critique, the writer was expected to exhaustively compile all that criticism and somehow use it to patch together the remaining shreds of story (occasionally there might be more than shreds remaining, a cause for joyous celebration).

I am not being conciliatory when I say that I have learned a lot as a writer from the critiques I have received. It is plain fact. And I am very grateful to everyone who has taken the time to help me learn. But another important fact that I never seem to read about anywhere in the cult of the critique is this: All critiques are NOT created equal. Not by a long shot. And what we as writers are told to do with critiques is not always what works. I have learned this from painful, critiqued-out-of-my-mind experience. In fact, I have gone months without much productivity because of the backlash from a bad critique. I don’t think this makes me a weenie. I think it makes me human; it’s natural to get discouraged from nonconstructive critiques, especially when you are a relative beginner. I mean, do I tell my beginning voice students in detail exactly how they suck at singing, complete with subtle (or not-so-subtle) disparagement, and then have their peers tell them the same thing? Um, no. That would be insane. And yet…

Here is what I have learned about critiques:

FICTION: You can expect a fair, unbiased critique.
REALITY: Some people will always hate what you do (even if you are awesome) because they just don’t dig your style. Some people will get set off by a random, unpredictable aspect of your story and be completely unable to get over it enough to say anything helpful. Some people will read your story in a sloppy manner and give you a half-assed critique. Some people just don’t know how to critique, period.

FICTION: If you’re upset after a critique, you just need to toughen up and take it. After all, you need a thick skin to succeed as a writer.
REALITY: Some critiques are harsh in a constructive way. Some critiques are harsh in a non-constructive way. Some critiques are just plain mean-spirited. Learn to deal with the first of these. The other two? Consider not getting critiqued by these people again or…

FICTION: Take all critiques into thoughtful consideration.
REALITY: Some critiques you can pretty much ignore. That’s not to say you shouldn’t listen while they’re being given, but after a while you can tell which critiques are completely irrelevant to any learning or revising you might be doing.

FICTION: You need critiques to become better as a writer.
REALITY: There are many ways to become better as a writer. The critique is merely one helpful tool among many. After all, there were still great writers before the current fad for critique.

FICTION: You should implement all suggestions given in a good critique.
REALITY: You should listen to the issues a good critiquer is having, and figure out what you, the writer, want to do about it. Often critiquers try to completely retell your story for you (although I wouldn’t personally call this a good critique). In that case, you need to work backwards to figure out what actually wasn’t working for them, and then change it in your own way. And only if you want to.

FICTION: A critique should always be followed by a revision.
REALITY: As long as you’ve learned something from a critique, it doesn’t matter what you do afterwards. Sometimes you need to revise to complete the learning. Sometimes you want to revise. Sometimes you want to chuck the story into the fire and never think of it again. Sometimes you nod, say hmm, and make a few small changes before submitting. Sometimes, if you’re Dean Wesley Smith, you submit the story before the critique so you’re not tempted to revise the life out of your story. (And oh yes, it is so possible to revise your story to death.)

FICTION: If a person is a “pro” or just has a few more credits than you, their word is God in the critique department.
REALITY: I wish. Some pros are amazing teachers and critiquers. Others, not so much. Some people with more credits than you will have amazingly helpful things to tell you about your work. Others will not. Some readers who know nothing about writing will have insights that are equally useful. And some will not. You get the picture.

FICTION: You should be involved in as much critiquing as possible.
REALITY: If you get too involved in critiquing, it might interfere with finding time to do the actual writing. And most of us ultimately want to be WRITERS, not critiquers. Right? Otherwise why would we be putting ourselves through all this?

FICTION: If you can’t handle a critique, you shouldn’t be a writer.
REALITY: If you can’t handle rejection and revision requests from professional editors and agents (who you are doing business with), then you’re going to have some trouble. If you can’t handle the occasional critique (or even the more than occasional critique), maybe something else is going on.

FICTION: Critique trumps all!
REALITY: It’s more important to manage your writing life in whatever way works for you. And if your way is not exactly the same as everyone else’s way, that’s okay. We’re artists, after all. We’re supposed to be different.

Okay, have at it! Disagree with me (or tell me how you’ve been secretly thinking the same thing). I’m going in for more dental torture this morning (if we ever meet in person and you want to see me cry, mention dentistry), but I’ll be commenting with gusto (and pain-induced bravado) later today.

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 51 Comments »

The Backbone Project: Help Me Become Less Wishy-Washy

May 24, 2011 by Amy Sundberg

I’ve been following a conversation on one of the forums I belong to about what works when blogging. You know, the type of discussion in which we talk about what engages the reader and what might increase a blog’s audience, while sharing do and do not tips and all the normal considerations of blogginess.

The estimable Ferrett shared a link on his post on how to get comments. There is much good advice to be had in this essay and the one about blogging that precedes it, but there was one sentence that particularly stood out for me. Ferrett says, “If you’re a conciliatory person by nature, writing a pleasant essay that excuses whatever it is that bugs you with a “But I guess that’s how people are” will not get comments either, because you’ll be so wishy-washy that nobody will be able to disagree with you.”

This sentence popped out at me because I had an instant “ouch” moment of recognition. Yeah. I went through the “Oh no, I probably do that” period to the “Oh God, I hate it when people are wishy-washy” phase to the “I need to stop doing that” realization. It was fun like having a root canal done is fun (and wow, do I now know a whole lot about that). And thus the idea of my newest project was born.

The fact is, I want to be a nice person. And I want you to like me. I don’t even know who you all are, but that doesn’t matter; I just de facto want you to like me. Which I hope you can see can be a bit crazy-making. I enjoy smoothing things over, keeping things calm, following the rules, being reasonable and fair-minded, and not stirring up the pot. Being a people pleaser is, in a way, very reassuring. It allows me to feel that I have some control over life. Never mind that I know intellectually that I have about as much control over my life as I do over the U.S. government (I vote, so there’s my tiny little sliver of control right there).

Unfortunately, there is such a thing as too nice, and sometimes I have trouble finding that line. Plus I definitely do not want to be wishy-washy (the horror!). Hence the project. I am going to write THREE blog posts that are not conciliatory. Well, at least I’m going to try very hard, and you can tell me how I’m doing. I’m planning to publish all three in a row if possible, but in any event I will publish them all in a timely manner. (Really I want to write only one, and then see how it goes, and then maybe write another one if it wasn’t so bad. Talk about wishy-washy! So that’s why I’m committing up front to three.)

I’m depending on you, my readers, to help me make this project a success. Here are some ways you can get involved:

  1. If you are also a people pleaser and a blogger, you can make your own commitment of writing x number of non-conciliatory posts. I will cheer you on, and we can provide moral support for each other!
  2.  You can tell me how I’m doing and call me out if I’m being too nice in spite of myself. I’m so used to doing it, I’m pretty sure I’ll do it sometimes without even realizing it. So I need your eyes.
  3. You can function as a part of my own elite cheerleading squad, telling me how great it is that I’m saying things people could disagree with.
  4. You can disagree with me. In public. Especially if you are a people pleaser too, but really no matter who you are. (Just no trolling. Trolling is not cool and will not advance the cause.)

Right. First post should come out on Thursday. Wish me luck, and feel free to share any last-minute tips (believe me, I’m going to need them).

Posted in Life | Tagged , , , , , | 47 Comments »

Strategies to Increase the Happy

May 19, 2011 by Amy Sundberg

My husband found this really fascinating paper entitled “If Money Doesn’t Make You Happy Then You Probably Aren’t Spending It Right.” Since I recently visited the topic of the connection between money and happiness here on this blog, I simply had to devour the entire article. It is, however, quite long, so I am going to choose a few salient points to discuss here.

Photo by Michael Porter

First off, the article says that people with more money aren’t that much happier than people with less, but that they are generally more satisfied. I found this distinction interesting because on first thought, I wouldn’t have thought the two states were really so different. But of course they are. We can have all the stuff we want, we can have the funds to take trips around the world, eat fancy food, and afford other experiences we desire, and be very satisfied that we can do and have all of this. It doesn’t follow, however, that this satisfaction will result in increased happiness, hence the stereotype of the poor little rich girl who has everything money can buy and yet is completely miserable. There are serious problems that have nothing to do with money.

Apparently happiness also depends a lot on our past and future relationship with a given expenditure. Anticipation greatly increases happiness, sometimes more than the actual purchase or experience. I’m going to climb out on a limb here and suggest this has something to do with positive reinforcement, ie I’m excited about my trip to Ashland, I’m thinking about it with excitement, and therefore I’m more likely to approach other aspects of my life in a positive way, which creates a happiness feedback loop. I can definitely experience a stress feedback loop (I’ll be feeling lots of stress and therefore everything seems more overwhelming, even things that would normally be no big deal, creating more stress, etc.), so why not a happiness one as well?

Fond memories of an expenditure will also increase overall happiness, which offers one explanation for why people love to show photos from their past travels and happy occasions. For example, I have wedding pictures and presents scattered throughout my living room that regularly remind me of that event. This is one reason experiences tend to trump material items in the happy-making: we’re more likely to think back to an amazing experience than to an item (to which we have grown more accustomed).

Another point the article brings up is the power of the little things to affect our happiness. The authors suggest making many small purchases instead of a few big purchases. I don’t completely agree with this point because, as we just discussed, often big purchases (trips, weddings, etc.) cause more anticipation and memory, both because we’re excited about them and because it takes longer to save up for a big purchase, increasing the anticipation even further. But scattering smaller purchases throughout our lives (a special coffee drink, a new favorite song or piece of sheet music, a massage, going to a movie) keeps us savoring the texture of life while offering much-needed variety. Of course, appreciating the small things affects happiness whether money is being spent or not, which is part of the beauty of it.

Ultimately what this article leads me to think is something I like to say anyway; namely, that we can contribute to our own happiness through learned strategies, introspection about our priorities, and being present to enjoy both the everyday moments of happiness and the rare, large thunderclaps of happy. Money takes away worries, but it doesn’t automatically bring happiness in their stead. That is something we have to do for ourselves.

What is something little that has made you happy today? For me, I’m wearing a scarf in this fabulous shade of purple that my husband bought for me on our trip to London last year and gave me for Christmas. So I have a warm neck, and every time I look down, I think, “What a great color. What a great husband. What a great trip. Christmas!”

Posted in Life | Tagged , , , , | 11 Comments »

Travel: the Intimidation Factor

May 17, 2011 by Amy Sundberg

I recently received an email from a friend of mine asking for travel advice for an upcoming trip to Europe. I am always thrilled to be asked about travel, because any excuse to talk about it is a good excuse in my book. So I wrote back promptly sharing what I knew, and when he thanked me, he also said, “You talk and blog about the wonders of travel, but for us newbies the actual process can be a bit intimidating.” And I knew I had today’s blog post.
One of my favorite things about travel (and also one of the things I most dread, paradoxically enough) is how uncomfortable it can be. It can shake us loose from our daily routines, from our preconceptions, even from who we might think we are. It challenges us, it taxes us, and sometimes things go wrong. Sometimes things go very, very wrong.

But I realize that maybe that’s not what I tend to talk about. My excitement and passion for travel shines through so brilliantly that it tends to eclipse all else. I gloss over many of the hard bits, or I don’t mention them at all. Plus many events that were quite difficult at the time seem funny or interesting in retrospect. Even as they’re happening, I try to see them as all part of the adventure, and that attitude carries through even when I’m back home.

So yes, the process of travel is intimidating, and not just if you’re a travel newbie. It takes a certain amount of energy to get started, and at this time in my life when I’m getting more settled and am dealing with lingering physical limitations, I have that energy less often than I used to. And while I’m not overly intimidated by travel to Europe anymore (which wasn’t always the case), I’m still easily overwhelmed by contemplating trips to other parts of the world. (Exotic diseases are my bugaboo. If the ailments I read about in the medical part of the guidebook are too disgusting, I lose all enthusiasm for visiting. I’m also convinced that I will get malaria in many parts of the world because mosquitoes love me soooo much.)

I didn't have a digital camera when I was in Sweden, so a photo of Norway is going to have to do...

Still, it is through the discomfort that transformation can occur, which is why I love it in spite of itself. The first non-English-speaking country I visited by myself was Sweden. Very modern, almost everyone speaks at least some English there, the food isn’t too crazy. I’d arranged to stay in a dorm room in Stockholm, so I even had a place to head upon arrival. I went out and about my first day, and I was so overwhelmed by being alone in a foreign place that I went back to the dorm and hid. I’m not even kidding, I hid and watched TV and cooked food in the dorm kitchen and felt miserable. I thought I’d made a terrible mistake, and it took all my willpower to eventually leave the safety of my room and continue my travel adventure.

On top of the world... in Switzerland.

Fast forward two months and I was in Switzerland, also alone, but completely transformed. It wasn’t that I was so much more comfortable, but I knew I could rely on myself. I had more confidence, I had seen amazing places and met a huge array of different people, and I had survived. I had faced up to the strong surges of grief I still felt over my mom’s death, and I had finally found a measure of peace around it. I was a different person, and to this day I believe that those two months are among the most important experiences of my life.

So is travel amazing? Yes, but it’s not for the weak of heart. It can be dizzying and terrifying, tedious and stimulating, painful and healing, and no matter how carefully we plan, travel will turn out differently than we expect.

What is an amazing travel experience you’ve had? Or, if you haven’t traveled much, what destination are you eager to visit?

Posted in Grief, Life | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 10 Comments »

How Are You?

May 12, 2011 by Amy Sundberg

I started watching the first season of The Vampire Diaries on Monday night. I could say it was for research purposes, to see what’s going on in YA high school land and vampire land right now (in which case Glee is also research). But really I just wanted to watch a silly show that wasn’t taking itself too seriously after receiving bad dental news. Who knew that it would inspire my next blog post?

The first episode establishes the teenage protagonist of the series, Elena, who is starting a new year of high school only a few months after her parents were killed in a tragic accident. We see her getting ready in the morning, telling herself that she’ll no longer be “the sad girl”. And later on, she complains how everyone is asking her “How are you?” when really they don’t care and just want her to be fine. She spends the day lying because, of course, four months after losing her parents, she’s not fine. She’s pretty far away from fine.

A lot of that first episode was bad in a funny way (some of it, I suspect, on purpose). But I keep thinking about that moment of complete truth, because the writers completely nailed the “How are you?” detail. That simple question had the same effect on me. It took me quite awhile to accept its usage as a social nicety and standard greeting rather than the question it purports to be.

Offering this greeting to a grieving person is like jabbing a sore muscle to see if it still hurts…only it’s somebody else’s sore muscle being poked. It’s a reminder that no, you’re actually not doing fine at all, and not only that, but you are now expected to lie about it and pretend everything’s just peachy. That kind of pretending, unfortunately, takes energy, and energy is in fairly short supply when you feel like your chest is going to split open from missing the one you lost. In addition, it causes you to feel like you should be as together as you’re claiming. After awhile, you learn to dread the question.

Another variant of the problem is the person who asks you how you are constantly, like you’re going to explode into a million pieces any second now. (Or, as shown during the episode, the fake, over-concerned, and pitying rendition.) The true answer probably hasn’t changed in the last day or two, but sometimes it’s nice, even necessary, to take a break from the wellspring of grief for the comfort of normalcy. Overasking shatters any possibility of creating moments and experiences of relative peace.

So should we avoid saying “How are you?” altogether? I don’t think so, but wouldn’t it be interesting if we began meaning it as a question again, instead of allowing it to remain just a form? And perhaps thought more about appropriate times to ask it and how to listen in a nonjudgmental way? Then, instead of lying, a grieving person could honor their own difficult feelings and feel more supported by the outside world. Heck, I’m not grieving right now and I’d still like to be asked how I’m really doing. But many people never ask.

Here’s how I’m doing. I’m tired. I’ve been having a hard time this last several months. I’ve been under a lot of stress and in a fair amount of pain. Sometimes I feel completely overwhelmed. But I’m also determined, and I’m completely in love with life. So I’m hanging in and appreciating the good things even more than usual, especially the people who I love (and the dog, I can’t forget her). And I’m looking forward to change.

How are you?

Posted in Grief, Life | Tagged , , , , | 14 Comments »

Being an Introvert is Awesome!

May 10, 2011 by Amy Sundberg

Since I wrote my essay on ambiversion last summer, I’ve been thinking about the introvert-extrovert continuum a great deal. Perhaps even more so because that essay is by far the most popular one on this site and continues to draw in a fair amount of search traffic. This makes me think I’m not the only person who cares about such things.

What have I been thinking? I’ve been embracing my identity as an introvert, actually. I’ve spent most of my life unconsciously believing that being an introvert is a Bad Thing. Because, you know, those extroverts have all the fun. While I do believe that American culture contributes to this belief, I see no reason why I can’t be as nonconformist about this as I am about other widely held issues.

So here is my official announcement: Being an introvert is AWESOME! I get to have deep and interesting conversations with people, either one-on-one or in small groups. I get to do amazing creative projects that often require heaps of hours by myself, and it doesn’t bother me. I can be perfectly happy and content and charged without having to take the trouble to make sure I have social plans every single free moment of the day. I get to spend lots of time thinking, which means I get to analyze and learn and have plenty of “aha!” moments. And I tend to think more before I speak, which means I have a better chance of being able to support the people I care about (not to mention a better chance of avoiding saying the most stupid things that pop into my head).

Sure, being an introvert means I have to work harder at being assertive. But since I’m not down at the far end of the introversion spectrum, a lot of the more difficult aspects of it don’t bother me. Basically, I’m an introvert who can pass. (Perhaps this is the real definition of an ambivert: Someone who is not so extreme on the spectrum, so they are able to pass for the other if convenient.) This means that often I can enjoy the best of both worlds, and I’m not dodged by people’s perceptions of my introversion.

What I have realized is that being an introvert and lacking social skills are not the same thing. Imagine my surprise at this discovery! Someone can be an introvert and still have excellent social skills (or successfully develop them). Or someone can be an extrovert who has zero social skills. While there may be a certain amount of correlation between extroverts and social ability, it certainly doesn’t seem to exclude these other possibilities.

This became even clearer to me when I took another personality test based on colors (here is a version of it if you love taking personality tests as much as I do). My highest color is blue, which is the social helper type. Yes, I’m a self-esteem builder who gets the most satisfaction from work that allows me help and inspire others and make a difference in their lives. No surprise that I’ve spent most of my adult life being a teacher and writer. It even fits in with this blog of mine, doesn’t it? And yet I’m also an introvert. These two parts of myself are not in conflict. In fact, I believe that being an introvert actually assists me to better understand and inspire others. How’s that for some positive framing?

Here’s my question for you: how does being an introvert or an extrovert help you in your life? And if necessary, can you pass as the other type (be an introvert who appears to be an extrovert or an extrovert who appears to be an introvert)?

Posted in Life | Tagged , , , , , , , | 19 Comments »

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