Posted by Elizabeth

For whatever reason, I have had a hard time jumping on the Twitter bandwagon.  As an extrovert who loves to dish and rehash the details of my life, Twitters seems like it should be right up my alley.  Facebook certainly is.  So it was with interest that I read Peggy Orenstein’s article “I Tweet Therefore I Am” in The New York Times Magazine, in which she argues that the advent of social networking media has turned us from an internally-focused culture to an externally-focused one in which “your psychology becomes a performance.”  (As someone with both a theatre and psychology background, I find this fascinating.)  Not long after stumbling upon Orenstein’s piece I read Katrina Kenison’s blog post “The Swallows,” in which she mulls over many of the same questions and quandaries that Orenstein poses.  Namely, that in our efforts to record our attempts to live in the moment, do we cease to live in the moment?  She notes the irony by saying, “I earn my living by writing about being in the moment.  And I do so by sitting in front of my laptop, typing words onto a screen.”

When I think about what it means to live my life “in pencil,” one of the first things that springs to mind is living a life that is intentional and conscious, one in which I am both engaged in the day-to-day happenings of the world around me while taking time to reflect upon how those happenings are effecting me.  And the method in which I typically choose to reflect is through writing via online media.  “But,” in the words of Orenstein, “when every thought is externalized, what becomes of insight?”  I can’t help wonder what I’m missing in my everyday life via the process of writing about my everyday life.  I wonder if there are other ways that I could be reflecting upon my experiences without writing about them.

Oh, and the fact that I’m sending out this post via Twitter?  The irony isn’t lost on me.

What do you think:  does conveying your experience take you out of the moment or help deepen the experience?  What other ways can we reflect upon our lives without making them a “psychological performance?”  Are you a Twitter fan?

Posted by Elizabeth

I’ll never forget the day I finished graduate school.  There was a great deal of pomp and circumstance, my tiny family having flown in from all corners of the country to watch me march across a massive stage, my neck proudly ringed by a turquoise sash; it was a day filled with boundless hope and promise as the future unfurled before me.  During a post-graduation brunch at a professor’s house, we sat quietly discussing my thesis.  Out of the blue, my professor said, “You shouldn’t have studied career counseling.  You should have been a writer.”  He may have even said, “I think you missed your calling.”  Although memory has rendered the exact words blurry, I clearly remember two thoughts running through my mind, each on a parallel track:

This is not what I want to hear minutes after finishing two years of study.
I think he may be right.

After years of trying to “make it work” in the profession in which I worked so hard to gain entry, that second voice – which, at the time, was really more of a timid whisper – eventually won out, and here I am five years later, trying my best to be a writer.  I know I’m not alone in this type of journey.  How many of us start down one path, convinced that we’ve found our true “calling,” only to discover years later that maybe we weren’t right after all?  According to a recent article in The New York Times, “The True Calling That Wasn’t,” it’s a more common story than you might think.  We choose careers too early, we get on tracks that we think we can’t get off, or our jobs simply don’t match who we are and what we value.  We feel like imposters.  In the best case scenario, it becomes clear that there is perhaps not a “true calling” but a “better calling,” and we make steps to manifest that new path.

But more often than not, things aren’t so clear.  We know we’re not on the right path, but we don’t know what the right path is. We wonder if an interest we have could be our calling, or nothing more than a personal passion.  Once we’ve waded into these murky waters, how do we begin to discern the right path forward?  Unfortunately, there are no easy answers.  In my own experience the answers haven’t come until I’ve walked down the path a bit, and even then they aren’t wholly clear.  When we think of callings, we conjure up images of trumpets and horns, big, brassy voices cutting through the din.  But more often than not callings begin quietly, a gentle tinkling of a bell that can barely be heard through the din.  We have a hard time trusting our callings because they first present as background noise, but callings are persistent, and if you choose to tune into the static, eventually that little jingle will become a booming timpani.

I recently had a very vivid dream.  In it, I was asked to deliver a sermon at a church.  But rather than delivering it standing at the pulpit, I was seated at a large, round table amongst the congregation.  In my sermon – which was more of a personal essay than anything – I said, “We connect with our spirit through paying attention to the minute details of our life.”  I woke up with a vague, yet strong, impression that this dream was the beginning of a calling.  I couldn’t shake the feeling that it spoke to the type of writing that I’ll be doing in the future:  spiritual in nature; concerned with the experiences of everyday living; and, while reaching a small audience, collaborative and community-building.  I haven’t walked down the road far enough to know much more than that, but the fact that I’ve spent days turning this dream over and over in my mind, that it’s taken hold and won’t let go, means that the timpani is readying itself.

Do you believe in the concept of a calling — true, better, or otherwise?  Do you think you’ve found your calling, or are you still working to find it?  Have you ever had a dream that felt prophetic?

Posted by Anne

When it comes to life, I don’t so much care for ambiguity. But ambiguity in someone else’s life?  Not as problematic for me.  Make that person fictional, and I’m totally entertained. 

Yes, when it comes to movies, I can roll with ambiguity.  I love multiple scenarios.  I love maniacally rushing to my computer to analyze a thousand and one theories on what a film could mean.  And I’m not talking about movies where the ambiguity is so over-the-top that it serves no artistic or cinematic function.  Eyes Wide Shut anyone? Vanilla Sky?  I didn’t think so. Those films are just annoying.  But when it works, the ambiguity of a film’s meaning totally enriches the experience. 

Take, for example, Inception.  Like many Americans, I’ve seen it.  Don’t worry—no “spoiler alerts” necessary—I won’t give away the ending.  But I can say it takes a very life in pencil spirit to avoid groaning at the ambiguity of the conclusion.  And I totally dug it.  Did I research a hundred different explanations?  Yep.  Did I talk about it incessantly for 24 hours?  You bet.  Do I wish I knew exactly what happened?  Nope.  If only I could harness that attitude about my very own ambiguous life…

Other ambiguous cinematic gems that left me saying, “Huh?”  In a good way.

-Donnie Darko
-The Usual Suspects

Posted by Anne

You’ve all seen the picture.  It was V-J Day in 1945, and one very exuberant sailor planted a kiss on one very cute nurse.  It’s probably one of the most well known photographs of WWII, captured in our collective memory (and college dorm rooms).  Clearly, I was not around for this moment in history, yet the photo never fails to evoke…something.  Joy?  Nostalgia?  Patriotism?  Yes, yes, and yes.  And also the beauty of spontaneity.  I view it as a definitively Life in Pencil moment–totally unpremeditated, totally sincere. 

The New York Times recently published this article about that iconic kiss, reporting that the woman who claimed to be the nurse had died at age 91.  I have to wonder–was her life full of these kinds of moments?  Probably not.  But it doesn’t really matter.  Because that one little Life in Pencil moment–captured for eternity–defined a larger moment in our national history.

Do something spontaneous this weekend. 

Have you ever done something really spontaneous that ended up defining your life in an important way?  What does that famous photo evoke for you?  What wild and spontaneous shenanigans will you pursue this weekend?:)

Don’t forget to e-mail us your Life in Pencil “moment of the week” by Thursday!

Posted by Anne

Sex and the City 2 is lush, over-the-top, and fairly ridiculous.  And I thoroughly enjoyed it.  Mostly because nestled amidst the absurdity are some really lovely scenes.  My favorite:  Miranda and Charlotte sit side-by-side at their hotel suite bar, sipping cocktails in unbelievably posh travel-wear, as is their custom.  They are two smart, fashionable, capable women.  They are also two mothers.  Charlotte, a character who longed for a family for 6 seasons of the television show, is simply overwhelmed by life with a fussy infant and an energetic toddler, but won’t admit it.  No, she wanted children for too long.  She shouldn’t complain.  Cajoled by Miranda and bolstered by alcohol, she comes clean, and fesses up.  It’s hard.  She’s tired.  She loves her family more than anything, but she’s flat worn out.  It’s relieving to her to let it out, and it’s relieving to us as viewers.  Nobody needs to be alone in this.  But her reluctance to air the truth makes me wonder…

Why is it that we, as women, have such trouble admitting to each other that life is occasionally short of perfect?  Why can’t we simply fess up?  We’d probably all feel more validated and more normal if we had these real conversations, instead of peppering our dialogue with only the socially acceptable grievances.  What would it look like if we were honest?

Honest Friend #1:  “How are you doing this week?”

Honest Friend #2:  “Oh, you know.  Basically really good.  But I’m feeling down this morning because husband and I had argument over something really stupid.  And I can’t find a sitter for Friday, and I need to get out of the house more.” 

What’s wrong with that?  Sure, if we had this conversation with everyone we met in the course of a day, we’d become annoying.  There are social graces we adopt in this world, and I happen to be a fairly big fan of social graces.  Not to mention we’d actually probably feel even worse if we solely reported on our struggles.  But when we’re amongst valued friends?  It can be a relief to tell it like it is.  But before we can make that leap, here’s what we must be willing to do…

Admit when the life of our dreams looks a little different than we envisioned. 

Rewriting your expectations of the perfect marriage and the perfect family is one difficult psychological task.  But what’s the upside?  What’s the advantage of sharing the reality with our fellow wo-man?  Support, validation, and authenticity.  Marriage takes work.  Kids are tiring.  Babies cry.  These are not failures, simply facts.  As women, we’d do well to fess up—and if we promise not to judge one another, I believe we’d all benefit from a boost in authenticity. 

Do you feel like you can be “real” with your friends?  Or do you ever feel guilty admitting when life is harder than you envisioned?

Posted by Anne

When I was 14 years old, I had no desire to be a teenager.  I was in denial of my own adolescence, preferring to spend my angst-filled energy separating myself from the

Quite possibly my favorite teen movie of all time. And one of my favorite movies ever.

quintessential image of the American teenager.  I read Austen instead of Cosmo.  I shopped at Laura Ashley instead of…well…anything trendy.  And a funny thing happened…

I turned 19.  And I became fascinated by teenagers the second I was no longer a teenager.  The identity I denied for so long became an identity for which I felt nostalgia…even fondness.  It started harmless enough.  Clueless. The Princess Diaries.  But by the time I reached graduate school, I was looking for ways to weave adolescent psychology into my research, and sneaking episodes of Lizzie Maguire in between dense journal articles. 

I’ve been asked many times about my fascination with teenagers.  And for the longest time, even I didn’t understand it.  The adolescent years can be a wasteland of insecurity, pain, and poor fashion decisions.  Why revisit that particular slice of the past?

...and my favorite "coming of age" novel. Read it.

Plain and simple, I have a soft spot for teens.  For their drama, their insecurity, and most of all…for their bourgeoning sense of self.  (Note:  I’m pretty sure I would have despised the word “bourgeoning” in reference to myself at age 15 or 16—my hips were bourgeoning far too much for my taste.)  I love the drama that rises to the surface when adult issues collide with childhood insecurities.  It’s intense.  It’s melodramatic.  And it’s the stuff of darn good storytelling.  It rests comfortably within my favorite film and literary genre of all time.  Coming of Age. 

What defines a coming of age experience?  In my favorite films and books, I can point to a climax or an inciting event that shoves the character into the grey ambiguity of adulthood.  But in my own life, I often feel as though I’m wading in and out of a constant string of coming-of-age experiences.  Though I’ve long since run the gauntlet of adolescence, I never really feel that I’ve “arrived”.   And in a sense, Life in Pencil honors this very adult process of rewriting our goals, our lifestyles, our plans, and sometimes even our sense of self.  These are rich stories, to be sure.  And these are the stories most pertinent to my current reality.  So why not stay immersed in these present challenges, instead of backtracking to a phase of life I’ve left behind?

I’m not sure, but there’s something about those adolescent experiences—both my own and others’—that piques my interest and beckons me back to the YA section of my local Borders.  The Life in Pencil stories there are different.  Teens aren’t rewriting their lives so much as tentatively sketching an initial version of themselves—erasing, rewriting, erasing, rewriting—almost spastically, until they come into their own.  Until some semblance of the person they’ll become starts to take shape.  It’s exciting—this uber-intense version of Life in Pencil.    

Almost a year ago, I wrote post called Letter to Myself at 13. In it, I spoke to my adolescent self, and reflected on the myriad ways I’ve changed and developed…and how I’ve come of age.  And so my question is this:  Someday, will I write to myself at age 30?  What events will weave their way into my life, causing me to come of age all over again?  And will this era of my life ever hold the same fascination for me as the drama of adolescence?  Maybe, but somehow I doubt it.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I must add Glee to my Netflix queue.   

When do people come of age?  Do you find teenage books, movies, music, or television interesting?  Or do you prefer to avoid revisiting adolescence?  What’s your favorite “Coming of Age” book or movie?

Life in Pencil is delighted and honored to feature author Aidan Donnelley Rowley as part of our ongoing project to highlight people we believe exemplify a Life in Pencil.  We were introduced to Aidan’s blog, Ivy League Insecurities, nearly a year ago, and have since enjoyed her honest, clever, and heartfelt writing.  We’ve followed her journey to the publication of her debut novel, Life After Yes—a novel with rich characters whose lives are full of choices and uncertainty, as well as joy.  A novel that speaks to Life in Pencil, just as Aidan does.  Enjoy our Q&A, and be sure to check out Aidan Donnelley Rowley’s work—on the shelves, and on the web. 

1.  Our blog, Life in Pencil, is interested in exploring how we “rewrite” life one day at time.  In what ways has your life turned out like you expected, and how has it surprised you?

First of all, I love – and believe in – the idea of living a Life in Pencil. What is existence but an ever-changing draft of our story? I also love the very concept of rewriting when it comes to life and literature; I spend far more time editing my words than I do writing them. Now, for your question! In important ways, my life has turned out how I expected. I always assumed I would marry and have children. And I have done both. Beyond this family aspect, I never once predicted that I would be spending my days in jeans squinting at a bright screen between birthday parties and soccer classes. I never thought I would have a book published. Alas, there have been some exquisite surprises so far.

2.  What are some of the small ways in which you rewrite your life on a daily basis?

For better or worse (and it’s likely for worse), I am a major perfectionist. I am prone to doubt and self-criticism, so every day I tend to go through a litany of things I would like to change about myself, my work, and my life. Essentially, it is as if I am sitting down with a stack of life’s pages with that proverbial red pen. This can be problematic, yes. But often it is a good thing because I am constantly finding ways to tweak the story I am attempting to live.

3.  As career counselors, we’re very interested in the process of how people choose their career paths, especially when their paths are nontraditional. Has your career path emerged according to your plan or in spite of a plan?

This is a very good question and I am not sure I can answer it. Because I don’t really know. Was there some grand plan for me, for where I’d end up? Perhaps. Was it my plan or my parents’ plan or society’s plan? I’m not sure. Probably all of the above. Leaving the corporate law firm at which I practiced briefly was certainly a big risk. The first real risk I’ve ever taken. At the time, the move felt sudden and spicy. But looking back now, with the cool benefit of hindsight, I wonder if I knew all along that I would jump? Maybe the jump was part of the plan? (Told you I can’t answer this one, but I do love trying.)

4.  Life in pencil is all about living our life in the now.  In your own life, do you spend more time thinking about your past, living your present, or planning your future?

I split the vast majority of my time thinking about the past and the future. And I’m not proud of this, but at the moment, I’m not sure how to avoid it. As a writer, I find that I’m constantly mining my past experiences for material and imagining what will happen in the future to me and the other characters in my life. As a mother, I find that I frequently reminisce about my own childhood, using it as a roadmap in my own mothering. I also can’t help but daydream about what’s to come; what kind of people will my girls be? I wish that I were able to focus more intently and organically on the present. Intellectually, I know that Now is everything. Practically, I don’t know how to stay there too long. I would like to work on this.

 5.  What’s something you do that gets in way of living your life in pencil?

Click the image to order your copy!

Should. This word creeps into my head and heart and home way too often. I fashion unruly expectations for myself – as a writer and mother and wife and person – and I do this all the time. These are expectations which are not possible to meet and when I do not meet them, I feel bad. I waste time beating myself up. I so often think of how many wonderful things I could be doing instead of chiding myself for what boils down to being human.

6.  Are there times in your life that it’s been easier to live your life in pencil than others?

Of course. We’ve all heard of Writer’s Block and I think there’s something akin to that when it comes to simply living. Life Block. There are soggier times when – often for no good reason – I feel stuck in the metaphorical mud. Times when the air feels damp and ominous and uncertain. Times when I feel like I have little control over life’s pen. But, oddly, I treasure these times even though they can be miserable while I am experiencing them. I treasure them because they are fleeting and because they are raw reminders for me of the texture of existence, of the hard questions, of the rough edges. Without these things, life’s story would lack depth.

7.  How are you striving to live your life in pencil right now?

This is an interesting and surreal time for me. My first novel was just released and I am riding those profound post-publication waves. I am seeing just why so many people compare publication to birth because, in so many ways, I do feel sleep-deprived and like I am at the mercy of raging hormones. At this point, I am very contemplative and am thinking about how I want the pages of my life going forward to read. Do I want to keep going full-steam with the blogging and booking? Do I want to refocus my creative energy on my girls for a while? I’m not sure. But the mere asking, the mere possibility of rewriting Now is critically important to me. Maybe just maybe, there are important and quiet times before that pencil is put to that paper, before those words and worries are crossed out or corrected, that matter more than we think and know?

We hope this Q&A tells you something of the thoughtful writing you’ll find in Aidan’s debut novel, Life After Yes.  Click HERE, and treat yourself to your own copy today.    

Don’t forget to email us your “Life in Pencil Moment of the Week” by Thursday!

Posted by Anne

“Did you know _______ is pregnant again?”

“I didn’t realize they were trying.”

“Yeah, me neither.  And apparently they’re looking to move to a new house.”

“Didn’t they just buy that house a couple years ago?  That seems like a weird financial decision..they’re obviously going to lose money on it.”

“Yeah, I thought so too, but maybe it’s been longer. We’re struggling just to come up with a down payment right now, you know?”

“Yeah, I just can’t imagine throwing that much money into a house right now.  We have so many other priorities.”

“Well, you guys don’t have kids yet.  You’ve got plenty of time for that.  By the way, when do you think you will start a family?”

I can’t say whether or not I’ve had this exact conversation.  But pieces of it?  Snippets?  I regret to say…probably.  No matter how hard we try to show openness to women—to our friends even—we compare.  Sometimes, we even judge.  As we move through college, graduate school, first marriages, and first children—our lives diverge from the friends of our youth.  The points of departure may be minor, but they’re there nonetheless—someone’s taste in furniture and someone else’s marriage choice.

We’re generally curious about the paths our fellow women take, and often times we show them support and love.  But in the corners of our minds rest those nagging comparisons; it’s the part of us that wants to know the choices we’re making are the right ones.  We keep track, because how else will we compare ourselves to those ubiquitous Jones’s?  Unfortunately, Miss (or Mrs.) Jones just might be our dearest friend.

These comparisons—this “measuring up” to our friends and acquaintances—has been on my mind since finishing the novel Commencement, by J. Courtney Sullivan. It’s a (highly entertaining) case study of the unavoidable ways women’s lives diverge—no matter how strong the ties or deep the affection.  In the novel, four young women find themselves rooming next to one another during their first year at Smith.  They forge a four-way friendship of deep passion and brutal honesty—the kind of friendship that springs from shared rooms, shared junk food, shared dreams, and romantic drama.  They continue to criss-cross paths long after graduation, each one marveling at the choices made by the other three, and wondering how they could have changed so much. I loved the book, which captured so many of the emotions of my mid-twenties.  At one point, one of the young women stares at her high school (ex) sweetheart and thinks,

“There are so many ways to be twenty-six years old.”

Read it. Especially if you happened to graduate from college in 2002 and experienced your feminist awakening during your college years:)

This short but poignant sentence stopped me.  I marked it, dog-eared the page, and read it again.  There are so many ways to be 26. Indeed.  There are so many ways to be 16, 26, 30, 36, and on and on. There are as many different ways to be 26 as there are women in this world.  But how often do we give ourselves permission to make unique decisions?  When I talk to someone whose life is moving a different direction than my own, why do I feel the need to silently explain my choices…assure myself I’m headed the right way?  And what on earth is “right”?

Over the past few months, I’ve had ample opportunity for comparison.  I’ve visited my sister, a dear friend from grad school, a dear friend from college, and three of my oldest childhood friends.  These five women—foundational friendships of my childhood, teen, and adult years—have quietly, steadily inched along different paths.  And they all lead lovely, beautiful lives.  I’ve made some choices in common with them, and some unique to myself.  When I’m around these women who share so much of my past—whom I love so much—mostly I feel grateful that they’ve found a way in this world that works for them.  I appreciate their choices, and recognize their uniqueness.

Shouldn’t I feel that—react that way—to all women?

This evening, I’ll don a dress, and attend my final Junior League meeting before the Fall.  I’ll eat catered food and make polite conversation with other women I’m still getting to know.  And what will we do?  We’ll look for common ground.  And most likely?  I’ll compare myself to them…wondering if I’m where I should be.  And I wish I wouldn’t.

There are many different ways to be 30.  My way is just one way of navigating adulthood, and needs no explanation.  Nor does anyone else’s.

Do you compare yourself to other women your age?  Do you ever silently (or not so silently) justify the choices you make?

We were excited to be approached to host New York Times best-selling author Allison Winn Scotch at Life in Pencil today, whose third novel, The One That I Want, was recently published.  Telling the story of 32 year-old Tilly, a woman who, at a crossroads in her life, is convinced that external circumstances will provide the missing puzzle piece, we knew this book would be up our readers’ alley.  Ms. Winn Scotch’s writing, though fiction, grapples with many “life in pencil” themes, including letting go of carefully mapped plans, questioning life choices, and entertaining the possibility of alternative paths.  The One That I Want even features a fortune teller – and how many times have Anne and I written of our search for answers amongst Magic 8 Balls and astrologers?  Enjoy this interview with Allison Winn Scotch!

Our blog, Life in Pencil, is interested in exploring how we “rewrite” life one day at time.  The One That I Want is very much in keeping with this theme.  In what ways has your life turned out like you expected, and how has it surprised you?

Wow, what a great question! I think the big surprise for me, to be honest, is that I earn my keep as a writer. As a kid and a young adult, I always hoped to do something in the creative field, but to be honest, writing just seemed…outrageous, unattainable. So that I genuinely earn my living this way is a wonderful, wonderful surprise. I also don’t think I ever anticipated living in NYC for as long as I have and do, though I’d like to leave at some point in the future. In terms of the rest of it, I, of course, always hoped to have a happy home life, and I’m fortunate that I do. One thing that I think I’ve always done that has helped steer me toward what I wanted out of life is that I’ve always been fairly clear on what I would and wouldn’t compromise on. When I didn’t like the “real” job I got out of college, I reassessed and quit. When relationships weren’t what I anticipated, I found a way to untangle myself. Whatever the circumstances, I’ve always been pretty bullheaded about staying true to myself (not, you know, to sound like an American Idol contestant or anything!), and I think that’s certainly helped me shape my overall picture.

Living life “in pencil” often means taking a leap into the unknown and not being able to plan your path.  Did you know how the novel was going to end when you started writing it?

No…I wish I did, that would probably make the process a lot easier! But I write where my characters take me, which sounds kind of silly, I know, but it’s true. As the author, I do throw obstacles and whatnot in their way, but mostly, I feel like I just let them lead…I have an understanding of who they are, and then they make organic choices that suit the situations I’ve put them in. I think if I knew how everything was going to end, their journeys would likely be pretty different over the course of the book, and, I think, likely less honest.

How you approach the writing process – letting things flow naturally, making organic choices in response to circumstances – sounds like good advice for living life.  In what ways do you feel you are living your life “in pencil” right now?

I feel like I’m always sort of in a constant state of tweaking. Like, if my husband and I aren’t doing as well at, say, communicating, as I’d like us to be, I sort of place myself as a bystander to our situation and assess how we could improve. I think temperature checks are important because, to be honest, I also think it’s really easy for life to go completely off the rails if you don’t make these little tweaks. They help realign everything. So definitely, life is a moving, breathing form that is always being adjusted – it’s part action, part reaction. I’m also a mother to a 5 year old and 3 year old, and I think most parents will tell you that you have no other choice than to “parent in pencil!” It’s very learn-on-the-job! And what worked a year ago might not work now. So, again, reassessing, checking in, tweaking and moving forward.

In your books you take on life choices as a theme, the what-if questions that are fun to ask and answer, but would be far more challenging to actually have to live with the consequences in real life. How do you come up with these questions?

Great question. To be honest, I start with a mundane idea: what if a woman thinks her life is wonderful but, in fact, it’s anything but? Or what if a woman had the chance to have a redo on her life? Those are everyday, normal, human questions that I think we’ve all wrestled with to a certain extent at some point. I also just think about what is going on in my own life, as well as homing in on what’s happening with my friends: what we’re talking about at our girls’ dinners, our complaints, our joys, our frustrations. I do fairly frequent temperature checks with myself and try to make little adjustments so I don’t get thrown totally off track. So I guess these questions come from the place of where I might be if I didn’t do these check-ins. It’s pretty easy to really go off the rails if you don’t pay attention. And from there, I add in the more fantastical elements. They just heighten the stakes, but if I do my job well, the books are still pretty grounded and about my characters’ humanity, not the supernatural elements involved.

As professionally trained career counselors and aspiring writers ourselves, we’re very interested in the process of how people choose their careers, especially when their paths are nontraditional. When did you know that you wanted to be a writer?

I think I always wanted to be a writer but realistically didn’t think – or realize – that it was possible until my mid-20s. I’d grown up writing, in journals, for my school paper, and later in college, a fairly prestigious op-ed column in the campus paper, but…I mean..really? Getting paid for it? It just seemed outlandish even though a lot of people suggested I pursue it! I wasn’t until I was, I think, 26, and was starting to take on freelance PR clients that I realized it might be feasible – I started doing a lot of web copy and eventually magazine articles, and one thing led to another and I tried my hand at fiction. Three books later, I sincerely still can’t believe how fortunate I am.

The One That I Want is about looking forward in time as opposed to backward (as with your previous novel, Time of My Life). In your own life, do you spend more time thinking about your past, living your present, or planning your future?

Hmmm, I suppose that the optimal answer is that I spend the most time living in the present, and I think for the most part, I do. I’m pretty aware of how fortunate I am to be living the life I am – I sincerely appreciate it almost every single day. But that said, I’m certainly one to pull out photos of my college years or whenever and wax nostalgic. I just had my college reunion, and I think a lot of us felt that way! As far as looking to the future, that’s probably the one I do the least. I guess I do so in terms of goal-setting, but mostly, I’m content with the idea that if I work hard in the moment and the here and now, the future will take care of itself.

Are you a planner by nature, or more spontaneous?

I’m both! I’m pretty anal about things that have to do with my career…at least as far as what I can control, which, to be honest, isn’t that much in this industry. But when it comes to everything outside of work, I’m pretty flexible and spontaneous. I grew up in Seattle, where I think it was just understood that you had to be mellow and laid-back! So overall, I’d say I’m spontaneous but there are some things that you do have to assert control over, and my career is really the biggie for me.

Most of your books question the paths that your characters have taken in their lives and explore alternate paths. Have you pondered that for yourself?

Yes and no. I do feel like I do pretty consistent temperature checks with myself, along the lines of, “Okay, are you satisfied with XYZ and if not, what can you do to increase your satisfaction,” and part of that is undoubtedly considering the road not taken. But I don’t really have any lingering “what ifs,” in my life. Sure, I might think about them from time to time, but I really am the type of person who takes her current reality and tries to improve upon it. I think this is definitely one of the underlying themes in my books: if you’re not living the life you want, then what?

Why do your books tackle the “what if?”

Asking those big, life-changing questions allows me to take the heroine’s journeys and up the stakes, just as those questions do the same thing in real life. What if you’re not living the life you want? Then what?

What’s the biggest “what if” in your own life?

Such a great question! I met my husband almost by fluke – I’d taken a gamble and given up an acting career in LA to move back to NYC to pursue an internet opportunity with a college friend. I found an apartment and got settled and joined a gym…where, a few months later, I met my husband. (Yes, really.) So I do wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t moved into that neighborhood or if I’d joined a different gym OR, if I hadn’t made a point to introduce myself to him. (What can I say? I thought he was cute.) And, going back a little further, what if I hadn’t taken that leap and abandoned my hopes of becoming an actress and leaving LA? So hard to imagine, and I’m one of those people who usually believes that life plays out how it’s supposed to (though I don’t believe this in all circumstances), so I don’t weigh myself down with this questions too often. Sometimes though, for sure!

For a full synopsis of this great “life in pencil” read, click here, and if you’re interested in ordering a copy of Ms. Winn Scotch’s book, click here.  Her website has lots of great information (her second novel, Time of My Life, is being made into a movie!), and you can follow her on Facebook and Twitter.  Further, today is the LAST DAY to enter a contest that Ms. Winn Scotch is hosting, which includes such fabulous prizes as a one-year subscription to Entertainment Weekly (Anne is already salivating).  Click here for more details.  You must buy a copy of the book by TODAY to be eligible.

Posted by Anne

“Am I in the right place?” I ask.

“Well, are you a writer?” she replies.  The instructor is perky and petite, with bright eyes and a blond bob.

“Uh, well, I don’t know.  Not really.  Maybe?  We’ll see,” I respond, already making an ass of myself.

This is how my weekend writing workshop began.  On this blog, I tell my stories, and the stories of my Life in Pencil triumphs and failures.  But I crave the opportunity to tell other stories too—fictional stories.  And more specifically, the stories that involve people ages 14 to 19.  And so I signed up for a 2-day workshop focused on Young Adult fiction, when I’ve never written much more than a few (highly autobiographical) short stories.   Yet there I was, fanatically taking notes on a craft I want to call my own.

In typical fashion, I was the first to arrive, which gave me time to watch my fellow workshop attendees file into the room.  We met at a small, funky manufactured home on the outskirts of the city, with coffee and an impressive array of fattening muffins for our consumption. A balding man in his 60’s(?) asked to borrow a pen.  A couple of people talked about health issues—weight loss, cancer, and ailing spouses.  Another woman began joking about her inability to operate her cell phone.  It didn’t take long to realize I would be the only 30-year-old at this workshop.  As is so often the case in my life, I was the youngest in the room.

It didn’t surprise me.  I’m accustomed to being the youngest person in a room.  I often joke about ending up in these situations—all of which are of my own choosing.  My women’s fly-fishing club.  Community cooking classes.  Church retreats.  Where, exactly, are the women my age?  It’s always been a mystery to me.

Nevertheless, I settled into my chair, and carefully penciled Young Adult Workshop, Day 1 at the top of my legal pad.  And I listened as the folks around me introduced themselves, stating their reason for attendance.  They ALL described fairly active writing lives, and I immediately felt inadequate.  I stared at the blank lines of my legal pad, wondering how on earth to describe my purpose there.  Well, you see, I love to write and have always dreamed of writing fiction, and have an age-inappropriate affection for teenage books and films.  So here I am. I imagined this off-beat group of writers staring right back at me, perplexed by my lack of focus.

But, as is often the case, first impressions aren’t everything.  Sure, some of the participants had written entire books—but some had not.  And nobody seemed quite as passionate about writing for teenagers as I did. Few (if any?) of them said they wrote for a living. None seemed to have majored in creative writing, journalism, or communications in college.   But they were there—engaged and enthusiastic, calling themselves “writers”, and showing me great kindness.  I munched my banana nut muffin and recited the clichéd phrase in my head, “It’s never too late to pursue a passion.”   And then I scanned the room again and decided…But I don’t want to wait THAT long.

On a recent telephone conversation with my sister, I bemoaned the fact that I hadn’t pursued my love of writing much earlier in life.  And she, so wise and so blessedly blunt, said, “Anne—you’re 30.  It’s not like your ship has sailed.  You can still write.”   The truth of this statement came charging back at me during that two-day workshop.  Something gave those people in my workshop the courage to call themselves writers.  A sister, a mentor, or simply the growing need to rewrite a part of their own lives.  That realization may have hit them 5 years ago, or 5 months ago.  It didn’t matter.  They were writing.

Whatever our reason for being there, it was endearing to see all of us—age 30 or age 60—spending 2 days discussing how to reach 15-year-olds through our writing.  We talked character, voice, and plot.  We scribbled novel premises, chugged coffee, and tried to unravel the secret to Twilight’s success.  And very soon, my age was irrelevant.  I may have been the youngest in the room, but my goals were no different.

My ship hasn’t sailed, and neither has theirs.

Do you run into this experience in your extra-curricular activities?  Are you the youngest?  If you write, when is it okay to call yourself a writer?