Banned Books Week

This week is banned books week. Every year, hundreds of books are banned or challenged all over the world. I recently read Captain Underpants is one of the most frequently challenged books for offensive language. This made me laugh, but challenging and banning books is not a laughing matter. For banned books week we’re celebrating the freedom to read whatever the hell you want (<—offensive language).

As a writer, I think banning books is a travesty. It’s the ultimate censorship, and because of that it’s wrong. Sure, there are some books that are disturbing. There are books explicitly about sex, the wrongs of religion, race relations, and all sorts of subjects that may make the reader uncomfortable.

Books on diversity are the most frequently challenged. By diversity I’m talking more specifically about books with non-white characters, people with disabilities, and LGBTQ. Folks, this shows we have a societal problem. Diversity is under attack, and challenging and banning these books isn’t helping our kids, it’s hurting them. It’s showing them the way to deal with people who aren’t like them is to pretend they don’t exist. Who wants their children learning that lesson? I certainly don’t. I want my children to be accepting and embracing of everyone. I want my children to realize that difference does not equal threat.

A few years ago I decided to pick up Lolita. I knew the subject matter before I started reading, and it did make me hesitate to read the book. But Nabokov is able to show us the life of a sick person, Humbert Humbert, who is obsessed with nymphets and subsequently runs off with Lolita, a young girl. The book was disturbing, but so well done. Nabokov was an incredible writer. But the thing I loved most about this book was the afterword. Nabokov detailed in the afterword about his struggles of whether to write this story, but it kept haunting him. Finally his wife told him to write it, and she insisted he publish the book. Lolita subsequently became one of the most banned books, but it also earned Nabokov a lot of respect as a serious writer.

As a writer, I know that feeling. When I wrote The Devil Within, I wasn’t sure if I would ever publish it. The material was disturbing and I knew it would upset a lot of people. Not only the abuse in the book, but the religious aspects of the book too. Religion is not described in a fluffy feel-good light in The Devil Within. Instead, the downfall of distorting the Bible and religion to fit ones own needs is discussed along with the comfort we can receive from religion if it’s used wisely (this sounds familiar in today’s society, doesn’t it). I’m so happy I did publish the book, because it’s been well-received. But I can understand how Nabokov felt, on having written such a despicable character, but such a wonderful book.

So what banned books have you read? Probably more than you think. Check out American Library Association’s website for a list of wonderful books to choose from and get reading! These books have a lot to offer:

Banned Classics

Frequently Challenged Books 1990-1999

Frequently Challenged Books 2000-2009

Frequently Challenged Books

What’s your favorite banned book?


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Lifestyle Changes

This weekend, I had little time to myself. On Saturday, every kid had something going on. I spent most of my day driving around town. When you have three young kids, you really do feel like a Taxi cab sometimes. My mom made up for my long hellish day in the car by making Cosmos in the evening. What a great way to relax after running around all day.

But on Sunday I was looking for some time to myself. About four years ago, I decided to get into shape. I had spent a few years popping out babies and sitting on the couch. I loved television and not much else. I had no friends, besides people at work, and I ate Mexican food every day (or so it seemed). I started by taking Taekwondo. We did high intensity interval classes there that kicked my butt, but also helped me drop the pounds. I learned how to have fun and exercise at the same time. While I lost weight I also lost my hair, but I gained confidence in myself too, and I started finding out what it took to maintain a healthy lifestyle. And before I knew it I lost 60 pounds.

I don’t really have a lot of before photos of my whole body. But here’s one I found from 2011, and directly below it is one from just the other day. You can tell such a difference just from my face:

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Lauren 2015

Making a lifestyle change is hard. I backslide often. I have days I don’t want to get off the couch. But more often than not, I feel bad if I don’t exercise. I push myself to exercise so I have energy and feel healthier and better about my body and myself. The better I feel, the better my writing is, the more I can give to my husband, my children, and my job.

On Sunday, I decided to go for a run. (I just took up jogging again, and I’ve been building up slowly). Usually I get super bored on runs, but because of my lack of me- time, I had a lot to think about. As I ran, I solved problems regarding my main character in the book I’m editing. I thought about each one of the kids. I figured out what I had to do this week, and I exercised. Exercise is a great way to give yourself some time to just be by yourself. We’re so overwhelmed in this world by electronics, other people, and busy schedules that we rarely have time to just be. Creative minds need time to reflect and meditate in order to create. And I’ve found running to be a great time to do that.

About once a week, I’m going to do a weight loss/exercise/healthy living post. I’ll tell you all ways I’ve found that have helped me to lose weight and keep it off. I’ll let you know how to climb onto the wagon when you fall off. I’ll let you know what’s worked well for me and what hasn’t. I hope you’ll enjoy these posts!

What are your goal regarding your lifestyle?

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Comfort Zone

Every day, instead of getting dressed and showered, I’d be content to sit around in my snowman pajama bottoms. I’ve written about these P.J.s before, over on my personal blog (which has sadly gone by the wayside). You know how some clothes just make you feel good? Well my snowman P.J.s make me feel comfy. They’re like walking around in a blanket all day long. It’s like having someone’s arms wrapped around you without all the extra weight. It’s like biting into your mom’s homemade casserole after you’ve been away at college for three months. I can’t say enough times that I LOVE my snowman P.J.s. They’re part of my tangible comfort zone.

Do you have a comfort zone? I have always been a person who has had firm routines, firm traditions, and, yes, even clothes that make me feel comfortable, happy, and most like myself. When I first started writing, my comfort zone included not letting anyone seem my work. If they did then GASP, they might not like it! They might ask me difficult questions about the meaning behind my work. They might draw conclusions I didn’t come up with. They might tell me that I’m a horrid writer and not to ever bother picking up a pen.

Good thing, most people don’t tell this to an inspiring writer (except maybe agents, but I haven’t gotten that far yet, and I’d hope they’d have more couth). They do, don’t they? As a writer, I’ve had to step out of my comfort zone more often than not.

One of the things that most scares me as a newbie writer is public speaking. I hate public speaking. In 9th grade, World Cultures I had to do a book review on The Black Death, which I hadn’t even read (sorry Mr. Roberts—I skimmed it). I had to stand in front of a whole group of fourteen years old, and I was an awkward fourteen year old myself who felt like everyone in the class was noticing my bald spots or seeing me naked—I couldn’t figure out which one was worse at that age. And I said “um” exactly 52 times. How do I know it was 52 times? Because Mr. Roberts told me when he asked me to stay after class. He said he’d give me one more chance the next day. He gave me some tips, and I pulled it off the next day pretending like I was having a personal conversation with my friend Allie the whole time.

Mr. Roberts didn’t eliminate my fear of public speaking, but he did give me ground rules for how to deal with a situation that made me uncomfortable. That’s the first step when we’re out of our comfort zone, right? Find something to make you comfortable–a point of relation with your audience, a realization that the person who is reading you work is a human like you–heck, they may even be a writer like you, and the ability to problem solve and find a way to calm your nerves in a new situation.

Stepping out of your comfort zone helps you grow as a person (and as a writer, if you are one). If I’d never let anyone see my writing, I’d still be unpublished. If I’d never done a fake book review on the bubonic plague then I’d be even more afraid of public speaking than I currently am.

Take off your snowman pajamas, try on something new, and see how much you can achieve!

What have you done to step out of your comfort zone?

Snowman PJS


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Weekend In Review

This weekend, I went to see my niece. She went away to college about a month ago, and I took the boys to see her (plus her sister). We went to Airwalk, and my oldest who is a gymnast had fun flipping, as usual. He’s getting so good, and I can’t believe how far he’s come in the last few years with his gymnastics.

All week long, I’d been suffering from a cough and cold, but by the time we got back I felt so ill. I spent most of yesterday on the couch. I also did a Reddit Author Spotlight on The Devil Within.

Feel free to go read the Reddit posts. I had some great, thought-provoking questions, about the book.

What did you do this weekend?


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The Dragon Child Cover Reveal

My good friend Sherilyn wrote a mid-grade fiction piece called The Dragon Child! And I’m excited to be able to do her cover reveal today! I’ve had the pleasure of reading this book, and I can tell you your children will love this fantasy/adventure story!

Here’s the blurb:

When a gypsy boy stumbles over an egg near the ocean he doesn’t know just how much it will change his life. Once the egg hatches, the boy’s world will never be the same, nor will it be for the creature that comes out of the egg. Named Dane after the boy’s father, the creature will begin a journey to find his own family. Along the way, he’ll learn that family is sometimes who you choose, not who you are born to.

And here is the amazing cover:

DragonChildcover

About Sherilyn Putnam:

Sherilyn Putnam is the pen name of an author who decided holding in the stories for younger people just wasn’t an option. Thus a whole new persona emerged, ready to share her love of fantastical beings and adventurous characters with the young readers of the world. Sherilyn is almost exactly like the ‘other’ author, being she lives in the deep south, has two daughters, a hero husband and lives in a tiny house ruled by two insane cats and a miniature dachshund with a Napoleon complex.

Her books for young readers almost always have the same message, one she feels very strongly about, “be who you are, not who others think you should be.”

You can follow Sherilyn Putnam:

https://www.facebook.com/sherilynputnam

https://twitter.com/SherilynPutnam

https://sherilynputnam.wordpress.com/

The Truth About Writing

I’ve been fighting a headache for three days now. Grass and ragweed are trying to kill me now that Fall is almost here. Yesterday, through a blinding afternoon headache I wrote down a few words on scratch paper about writing. I think about writing a lot (obviously, because I’m a writer). But yesterday, I felt overwhelmed. I still hadn’t prepared for the Reddit Author Spotlight on Sunday. In fact, I hadn’t even signed on to Reddit, and I felt overwhelmed by the fact that there was a whole new pond of social media for me to swim through.

So my list about what a writer’s life turned out looking like this:

  1. Work ALL The Time
  2. Marketing with little results
  3. Must stay up on ALL Social Media
  4. Editing and more editing
  5. Constantly required to have new and creative ideas
  6. Earn Next to Nothing

When I looked at this list it made me want to cry. But then I looked at it from a different perspective, and here was my takeaway:

  1. Work ALL The Time because the work is meaningful. Work ALL the time, because without writing down my thoughts I might implode. Work ALL the time, because when I don’t I feel lost and restless.
  2. Market my material, because I want others to share in my creation. (WOW-that sounds like a God complex, right?). But isn’t that what all writers want? Someone to have an emotional reaction to their work. Someone to say, “This book is amazing–when is your next one coming out?” Without marketing, there would be no readers. My goal is to have my readers recommend my book to other readers–that should be your goal too, if you’re a writer!
  3. Stay up on social media so I can continue to market my work. Also to get to know other writers who feel the same struggles as me. Social media helps writers create social networks for when the going gets tough. Like when they’ve received their 100th query rejection and feel like tossing aside the old pen–fellow writers can help their literary companion down from that cliff.
  4. Editing – This one is my hardest, but editing my own work has allowed me to become a better writer. I’m pretty darn good now at picking out the mistakes, rewording, cutting characters, etc. And editing is the best way to make a good piece really shine (or to figure out that your piece is crap and move on to the next much more worthy project). This all leads to readership and a sense of accomplishment for the author.
  5. Creative ideas aren’t a problem for me. I have new ideas for fiction pieces before I’m ready to have new ideas! In fact, I start stories and then see which one carries me all the way to the end. Creative ideas help writers sort through issues or problems in their lives without doing something crazy or destructive (at least this is true for me, as writing is cathartic for me). Writing allows me to organize my thoughts so they don’t drive me batty!
  6. Earning peanuts – not much good to say about this, except I don’t know a single author who got into this business to make money. Most authors started writing because they felt compelled to. Yes, making money would be nice, but it’s not the be all and end all of writing.

The be all and end all for me is the story, the readers, the connection, and what we leave behind when we’re gone.


Sunday, September 20, 2015, I will be doing a Question and Answer session on The Devil Within over on Reddit! Make sure you stop by to ask me a question!

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Reddit Author Spotlight on The Devil Within

Talk about a busy weekend. I reserved a little section of Sunday afternoon to figure out how to do Reddit and to blog so I could post a Monday blog tomorrow. Well, you know, in life things never go as planned. I woke up this morning, went for an amazing run in 55 degrees weather (I love Fall), and came home to boot up the computer so I could watch an episode of How I Met Your Mother, before taking my kids to church. Guess what? WiFi didn’t work. Hubby investigated. The box shorted out, and I won’t have working WiFi until Tuesday. This is like an author’s biggest nightmare! I mean, how will I let the world know what I’m up to and that I have a Reddit Q&A on The Devil Within coming up this Sunday, September 20th?

I took a nap after the church picnic, and then I came to Starbucks so you lovelies would have a chance to read my Monday Blog. For some reason, Pandora won’t play and I’m stuck listening to people’s conversations and the elevator music in the background, but hey, at least I have WiFi!

So I hope you will all be able to make it to the author event on September 20th. I will answer any questions you may have about The Devil Within. For those of you who haven’t read it, you can find the book on Amazon I ebook for $2.99 and paperback for $11.95.

Here’s the blurb:

When nine-year old William loses most of his family in a car accident, he is left alone with a religious zealot of a father. As a result of his father’s abuse, William blames himself for his family’s death and becomes convinced the devil is leading him astray. The backdrop of life in a rural town in the 1960’s sets the tumultuous scene as William struggles to cope in a world no child should have to face on his own. Will William be saved, or will he succumb to the devil within?

I hope to see you all at the Reddit event at /r/ books at 1 PM on Sunday, September 20th! Make sure to come up with some great questions for me, and I’ll try my best to answer them.

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A Bedtime Fairy Story

Yesterday,  I worked a little bit on my newest Southern Fiction piece. I wrote a story within a story, because the main character Anna Kate told her brother and sister a bedtime story. Last night, I told my daughter Anna Kate’s story and it made her cry (yeah, I may need to work on it).

At yoga, while doing Savasna, where I’m supposed to be focusing on my breath, the story came to me. At the beginning of yoga, I talked to my awesome yoga instructor and my co-workers about how writing is cathartic for me. Earlier in the day I was lamenting that I had no idea what to blog about, and my story seemed to be going nowhere. And then, right as my body sunk into deep relaxation, and my brain cleared this story came to me:

Here it is, in all it’s glory, totally unedited:

“Once upon a time there was a fairy princess name Lucy. And she lived in a big castle with her brother, Ben—”

“That’s my name,” Ben said, bouncing up and down on his knees.

“Shh—” Lucy snapped at him and Ben stuck his thumb in his mouth sucking vigorously as he blinked away the brewing tears.

“Lucy’s wings had been snipped, and more than anything she wanted to fly. She wished so hard she could fly, but every day she tried and she couldn’t. Her brother, Ben, flitted around the castle and every day Lucy grew more and more jealous of his ability to fly. She wished with all her might that she could fly like Ben, but when she woke up each and every morning to try, she failed.”

“I don’t like this story,” Lucy said with a pout.

“It’s getting to the good part,” I said. “Just listen. Where was I? Oh yes, one day Ben flew far away, and when Lucy went to find him she could not. She walked out of the garden gates, and down a twisting path, and deep into the woods. The woods were dark and eerie, but Lucy, being the brave girl she was, walked on in search for her brother.”

Lucy and Ben stared at me, all eyes in the darkness of the room. I swallowed and continued the story, kicking the sheets off of me in the muggy room.

“Finally, Lucy came upon a stone house…”

“Oh, I know—it’s like Hansel and Gretel. Mama used to tell us that story all the time,” Lucy said.

“Let me finish, Lucy. It’s not Hansel and Gretel. Okay—Lucy came upon the stone house, and she turned the doorknob, but it was locked. She knocked and a kindly young woman with hair the color of chocolate answered the door. ‘Yes, child, what do you want?’ ‘I’m looking for my brother, Ben,’ Lucy said. The woman invited her into the comfort of her home, and Lucy was relieved to see her fairy brother sitting in the corner eating a bowl of porridge.”

“With brown sugar,” Ben added.
“Yes, of course, with brown sugar and warm milk,” I continued, patting Lucy on the head. “The lady told Lucy she had put Ben under a spell, and he would stay there forever, but she had a choice and could possibly save him. She could have her greatest wish granted and be able to fly—her one and only wish–or she could have her brother back. She couldn’t have both. She had to choose one. And what do you think she chose?”

Lucy yawned and looked at me. “She chose her brother, of course, but if I had really been there, I would have chosen the wings. Who needs a stinky brother anyway?”


It still needs work, but I like the concept. And when I told it to Hailey at bedtime last night, she was absorbed with the story. I added details, changed the main character to her and both her brothers played a roll too. And when I came to the end I told her she could have wings to fly or she could have her brothers back, but she could only choose one. And she started crying and said she wanted the wings but didn’t want her brothers to disappear forever! Poor thing. I comforted her and told her the point of the story, then she hugged me hard and went to bed.

I think there’s an important lesson in the story for all of us. Family and friends are so important, and they can often be overlooked for our wishes/wants. We get so caught up in the corporate grind, the business of life, in wanting things, and in wishing for our greatest dreams to come true that we often forget the most important thing in our life is the people we love.

What are you writing right now?


Next Sunday, on September 20, 2015, I will be doing a Question and Answer session on The Devil Within over on Reddit! Make sure you stop by to ask me a question!

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Expect Less, Live More

When I went to Midwest Writer’s way back in July (it now feels like eons ago), someone said to make a name for yourself you have to blog. She/he (all the faces blurred together-sorry for vagueness) said readers like to hear from authors consistently, so set up a blog schedule and stick to it. Well, obviously I’ve fallen short in that category. I intend to blog three times each week, but sometimes things happen (like lice, or vacation, sick kids, sick me, anxiety-ridden can only sit on the couch and watch seventeen episodes in a row of How I Met Your Mother type days). But it got me thinking about expectations.

A few years back, I felt unhappy. And during that time, I found my love for writing again. I started writing for catharsis, to heal old wounds, and new. I wrote to rid myself of feelings I deemed wrong or inappropriate. I wrote to find solace from within myself. I wrote so I could function every day and not curl up into a ball and rock back and forth in a corner even though some days I wanted to. Back then, I held myself and everyone around me up to sky-high expectations. And it was a nightmare.

Unrealistic expectations of others only serves to further unhappiness in yourself. When one has expectations of other people that those people don’t meet, then one is stuck in a state of disappointment. How can you be happy when you’re constantly disappointed with others? Expectations become a little like mind-reading. Come on, we all say we’re not mind-readers, but the truth is many of us expect others to read our minds. Many of us expect others to fill the void within us. Many of us expect to achieve happiness from other people, instead of searching for it where it really exists: inside ourselves.

When I really thought about this—letting go of expectations—I thought it was ridiculous. I mean come on. My whole life, I’d been trying to live up to my parents’ expectations, to my bosses’ expectations, to my teachers’ expectations, and to my own unrealistic expectations of achieving perfection. I wanted my marriage and life to seem perfect, and in the end I had set unrealistic expectations for myself. When I realized this, I sank further into the dark pit of oblivion called depression. And I had to pull myself out, one layer at a time. I had to realize by letting go of expectations that I had what it took to make myself happy and to spread that joy around.

You see, having expectations for yourself is okay, as long as you don’t set the bar too high. I have goals and expectations for myself on a daily basis, but I’m not afraid of failure anymore. I know failure is an opportunity to learn.

It took me a while to learn that pegging your expectations on others, well, that doesn’t work. It destroys relationships. It destroys friendships. It destroys happiness. Now when I reach out to a friend, I do it because I want to. Sure, in a perfect world, it’d be nice for my friends to always reciprocate. But I know when they don’t, it’s because they got busy. I’m not catastrophizing about all the reasons they don’t like me. I’m done obsessing about where they disappeared to when they didn’t call. Because all these things—they’re crazy-making, not happy-making! If you really want to know whether someone is your friend or not, then be there for them, and see if they give back from the deepness of their hearts. Talk to them. Put the phone down and meet them for lunch. Tell them how you feel. Stop guessing and expecting other people to read your mind!

The only person in this life who can make you happy is you. Let go of your expectations for others. Give because you want to give, not because you want someone to give back. I promise, if you do this you’ll see the world differently and it might even make you happy. Hold yourself accountable for your own happiness.

Have you found happiness? Have you found ways to let go of your expectations? If you’re a writer, do you write for happiness?


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Don’t Be A Chicken

I’ve been remiss in posting the last few days! Work and life have been crazy, and my kindergartener, sweet darling that she is, is having a terrible time adjusting to school. So my mind has been elsewhere.

Today, just so you know I still exist, I’m posting a piece I wrote for Finish That Thought. I made some minor tweaks, as I had a few typos originally. This piece won me the contest this week, so next week I’ll be judging! Any of you writers should make sure to enter.


Don’t Be A Chicken

Oh no, please no, I thought as I ran toward the Kentucky Fried Chicken. Or I should really say ran toward the train wreck that was once my diet. It was the smell of fried chicken. I’d whiffed the scent on my way home from the gym. All those hours, sweating in the gym to look good for Marco, and now I was about to stuff my face with a big-fat grease-filled chicken bucket. At least I could say the potatoes were a vegetable. Wait, were they?

Sweat poured down my face as I neared the KFC. I slowed to a light jog. At least I could justify it by saying I’d ran all the way here. How the scent of KFC could travel three whole miles down 83rd Street and alight on my nose the moment I walked out of the YMCA was beyond me. And I’d made the three miles in record time too: 25 minutes. Heck I’d be ready for a marathon soon—right after I dug into a huge bucket of chicken.

I opened the door and the wonderful scent of fried food wafted toward me. I inhaled deeply. This had to be heaven. After all the salad and fruit I’d been eating, I couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into a nice moist chicken leg. I didn’t even care if the scale reflected it in the morning. To heck with Suzie and her weekly weigh-ins.

Bucket in hand, smile on my face, I turned scanning the restaurant for the perfect place to devour 3,000 heavenly calories of perfect bird. And then—there he sat. By the window with the big swirly K. Marco. I couldn’t care less about being near him still wearing my soaking wet pink workout shirt. It wasn’t the sweat dripping off my face and forming puddles on the floor. No—here I stood in KFC holding a chicken bucket for one, and already gnawing on a chicken leg before I’d even found a seat.

He waved at me frantically, and I did what came naturally, pretended he didn’t exist. Maybe I could fit into the trash barrel. Maybe I’d drop the chicken bucket on the floor and run back into the heat, but then the sweet aroma tickled my nostrils again and I knew I needed another bite.

Wait a minute, Marco was committing the sin of fast fried food too! I smiled and waved like I was a desperate preteen girl who’d just gotten her braces removed. Oh, those kissable lips. And then, wait, what? He motioned for me to come sit with him. And before I could stop myself, I’d joined him. Giant bucket and all.


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