http://searchingforjane.com/

http://searchingforjane.com/

Hiking to Deer Creek Falls in Nevada County CA

Yesterday was my daughter, Sasha's, 22nd birthday and as part of the day's celebration, she and I took the dog, Loki, and drove down to the 49er bridge where we took the trail to Hoyt's crossing. Considering that Sasha is recovering from Lyme disease, and spent the better part of the winter too sick to get out of bed, this hike was quite an accomplishment. We couldn't have asked for a more perfect day. The sun was shining, the river raging, and unlike summer when the river is packed with both locals and visitors, we had the place to ourselves. At the beach, we threw rocks and sticks into the freezing water for Loki, who didn't seem to mind the cold temperature. Like many Golden Retrievers, as long as she has something to chase, she's in ecstasy. If ever there was a day when I should have had my camera it was yesterday, but unfortunately, I'd left it at home.

This morning, Sasha and I decided to hit the trail again. Our destination:  Deer Creek Falls--a place I'd never been to before, but one of Sash'a favorite hikes. We drove about ten miles from Nevada City out Bitney Springs Road and stopped just short of the North Ponderosa Vineyards (known for their organically farmed wine grapes and fine wines including their Chasewater Syrah). The first two miles of the trail takes you down a gradual grade through manzanita, scrub oak, deerwood, money flowers, and other Chaparral species, with sweeping views of Penn Valley. Just about the time the roar of the falls becomes deafening,  a crooked path on the right makes a steep decent to a breathtaking view. This time we had a camera. The water was moving a little too swiftly for Loki to go for a real swim, but she is a dog and she did get wet. The photos Sasha took are below. With scenery like this, who needs Hawaii?  

View from the top of the trail looking down at the falls

Deciding whether to jump in or not.

Brrrrr..That was cold!

Loki says, "Next time, bring my ball!"

Gearing Up for the Challenge

Now that I've made the decision to publish Searching for Jane, Finding Myself, I'm moving into high gear.  At the top of my ever expanding to-do list is the layout and design of the book, followed by a new blog/web site.  I've been fooling around with WordPress and I'm excited with the options. Not only can I have a blog, but I can add pages, customize their look with graphics, photos and videos, have a personal url: searchingforjane.com, and even add a shopping cart. It's going to take a couple of weeks to make the transition to the new site, but I'm looking forward to narrowing my niche to topics related to adoption and promoting my book. Once I've made the move, I'll send out an APB on Twitter and Facebook.

Self-Publishing

When two months passed and I hadn't heard from either of the agents who had requested my manuscript, I sent each of them a short e-mail asking if they had made a decision to represent me yet...and whether they wanted the new and improved version I had just gotten back from my editor. One agent got back to me within a week. She said she'd been very busy, but to please send the edited manuscript. From the other agent, I've heard nothing. I'm not taking her silence personally, but it's making me wonder if I have the patience to make it through the traditional publishing process.

The length of time it takes to be accepted by an agent, with no guarantee that they will match me up with a publisher, makes me think that I'd be better off publishing the book myself. However, before I could head off in that direction, I needed to be honest about the importance of external validation. With acceptance (versus abandonment and rejection) at the core of my adoption issues, I needed to be certain that I believe in myself and my work enough to "put it out there" without it being sanctioned by a mainstream publisher. In other words, I needed to set my ego aside and have an honest conversation with my highest self, the one that actually wrote the book and knows that my story will help others.

To help me think this through, I called my friend Steve (Moving Finger Press), who has been down this road before.  Steve self-published People Farm a few years ago and hasn't looked back. To date, the book has sold 12,000 copies and Steve has retained most of the profit--something that has enabled him to fund other worthwhile projects. "You can do this, Jan," Steve said.  My author and highest self knew he is right.

It's not as if I don't know how to begin.  I've read several books on the subject and I've written marketing and public relations plans that have helped others go through the self-publishing process. Most importantly, I am not alone; I know book designers, printers, web masters and others who can help me, and I've squirreled away enough cash to get the process started.  Now, all I have to do is get to work!

To keep myself honest and motivated, I'm going to post my efforts on this blog where I'm hoping my friends will provide me with encouragement and others, who have been down this path before, will share information and experiences to help me along the way.

So, wish me luck on what I'm sure will be nothing less than a memorable adventure.  Now, I'm going to write my own marketing plan.

Publication: My Goal for 2010

Like many people, I have always begun the new year with a list of goals I hope to accomplish.  Last year my goals included finishing my book, cleaning the garage, re-learning Spanish, and losing the proverbial last 10 pounds. I am happy to report that I did succeed in completing the first two. As for Spanish, I've decided to wait until I can spend some time in Mexico or Spain, and as for the extra 10 pounds..let's just say I've let that one go.  I've carried them around for the past fifteen years, and I've accepted the fact that they might be here to stay. Based on past successes, this year I decided to limit my goal to one: get my book published by a reputable publisher. If you've been reading my posts, you already know that the manuscript is currently in the hands of an agent who has yet to get back to me about whether I'm worthy of her representation. I sent the file before Thanksgiving and I didn't expect to hear anything during the holidays, but the holidays are over and since Monday, every time I check my e-mail, I hold my breath.

This brings me to my current dilemma; either I wait to hear back or I get proactive and pick up the phone...or do I e-mail?  In either case, what do I say? My healthy adult-self has no problem with this. She picks up the phone, identifies herself as the author of Searching for Jane, Finding Myself and asks, "Did you have a chance to read the manuscript?  Do you think you can sell it?"  These questions will open up a dialog that will either result in representation or not. Getting an agent moves me in the direction I want to go, but a negative isn't the end of the world.  My adult-self is wise enough to not take rejection personally.  It just means I haven't met the "right one" yet, that I need to expand my search.

I like to believe that my adult-self is in control; however, my insecure, adopted, inner-child is there on the sideline reminding me that my book might not be good enough, that I might not be good enough.  That this goal I have set for 2010 is going to take me down a long and desperate path of fear, neurotic behavior, and shame. I experience a moment of panic before I remind myself that I know better than to listen to the ghost of my distant past. I pat the memory on her head and turn back to my work.

Today, I'm putting the finishing touches on my manuscript.  Tomorrow, I'm contacting the agent.  

Assuming the Best

I've been one of Michael Brown's fans since I first read his groundbreaking book,  The Presence Process, a book I recommend to anyone who is looking for a way into the present moment. I can't begin to list the wisdom that Michael shares in his books, blog, and other writings, but I can tell you that his work has changed my life in extraordinary ways, especially when it comes to coping with adversity and difficult times.  One of the recurring themes in Michael's writing is reminding us that we are responsible for the quality of our life experiences. This means that we are no longer victims of our circumstances, but that we have a choice about how much drama we allow into our lives, whether we react to various people and situations or respond to them with insight and compassion.  This one fact has had a profound influence on my life as it finally put me in the driver's seat and, after several months of practice, allowed me to remove the fear and negativity that previously clouded my thinking. 

By keeping this one fact in mind, I moved away from being a victim of circumstances, which can include huge events like being given up for adoption and the death of a close friend, or the minor annoyances that clutter our enjoyment and cloud our experiences. If another driver cut me off or took my parking space, did the quality of my life improve when I muttered "asshole" under my breath as I flipped the guy off before speeding off? Does it serve me to always think the worst when my son is thirty minutes late? Does the quality of my life improve when I use sarcasm and blame or is it better when I speak with respect and understanding, no matter what?  Is my life better or worse when I worry?  In the scheme of things does what I wear, the type of car I drive, or the amount of money I have really matter? This shift in my thinking has helped me to heal my wounded inner child, who realized that she doesn't need to hold on to the past beliefs, memories, and experiences that no longer served her...that like balloons, she could release them into the atmosphere and watch them drift away out of site. It enabled me to write a book without constantly criticizing my work or judging my value and worth as a human being.  It enables me to get through what others might view as difficult, nearly impossible times. Whether the sun is shining or rain is coming down in blinding torrents, moment by moment, I am entirely responsible for the quality of my life's experience. And whatever the circumstances, my choice is a series of experiences founded in love, forgiveness, compassion, acceptance, peace, and joy.    

I don't expect everyone who reads this blog post to run out and buy a copy of The Presence Process, but for those of you interested in developing a lifestyle that re-frames the negative into the positive, it's an excellent place to begin. 

Remembering Margie

The day after Thanksgiving, I found out that my childhood friend died. We'd just spoken a few days before so the news was quite a shock. After years of what can only be described as extremely sporadic communication, two years ago Margie and I reconnected. The circumstances that brought us together were unfortunate. Margie had flown from Australia, where she was working as a child psychiatrist, to attend a reunion at Stanford University. A day into the festivities, Margie tripped on a curb and fell, breaking her hip and fracturing her shoulder. Because she had only recently recovered from a spinal fusion, these additional injuries rendered her helpless and she ended up staying at the home of her good friends Carol and Mark, who lived about an hour from me. Several weeks later it was clear that Margie wouldn't be able to return to Australia until her hip and shoulder healed, something that could take months. It was then that I volunteered to drive her to her parent's home in Arizona where she could convalesce and begin physical therapy. There is no better way to reconnect with someone than to spend hours in the car with them.

By the time we arrived in Arizona, Margie and I had talked about everything from the ballet lessons we took when we were three and four to her fears about never being able to return to work. Upon hearing the news about Margie's death, I was overwhelmed with sadness, but Carol's suggestion that we "remember the good times," has helped me pull through. There are others who will speak to Margie's professional accomplishments, her brilliant mind that never forgot a fact, her ground breaking work in hormone therapy, and her work with in treating veterans and children. My memories are from a different time and place, when life was simple and our problems few. When our summers consisted of playing jacks, swimming, and stealing sugar packets out of the snack shack, and having a huge crush on the lifeguard and fantasies about kissing him as soon as we turned thirteen. Back then, our biggest concern was learning how to use tampons so we could swim in the next meet. Our biggest problem was avoiding taunts from the swim club bully, a short chubby kid whose only weapon was his sharp tongue. We lived for ice cream sandwiches, five more minutes in the pool, and Fourth of July fireworks. We pricked our fingers with safety pins and became blood sisters. In a high school social club, Margie was my "little sister." And most recently, as adults, Margie was my confidant, advisor, and dear, dear friend who wouldn't want me to be sad about her passing, who would expect me to remember the good times as Carol suggested.

I don't know if or when there will be a memorial service for Margie, but because those of us who were touched by her life, live in so many different places, I would like to suggest that this post be used to launch a virtual memorial service where her friends and colleagues far and wide can share their memories, their good times.

P.S. The photo was taken about a year ago, shortly after Margie moved to Arizona.