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Part of an artist’s job is to see the things other people miss and introduce the two. As a novelist, I walk through life almost constantly distracted, curious about the frost creeping up the garage window, the lichen on a tree, the distinctive way someone walks or speaks.

I have files of disjointed impressions, thoughts, people, and scenes that just might eventually find their way into my writing. It’s me introducing something I saw or heard to you, my reader.

For example, I wrote this quick scene after walking my son to the bus stop. It was cold and my breath puffed in front of me as we walked by the forest path. And I suddenly pictured a frightened girl walking the path and just catching something out of the corner of her eye…

I blinked and he was gone. The vapor from his breath still rising in the air. Unconnected. Alone. I turned slow circles. Searching again.

The shadows shifted amongst the trees and I knew they’d sent him.

The colors bled around me watercolors dripping through space. Collecting at my feet.

My fingertips faded first and I watched as they dribbled into the flowing path.

Particularly for historical elements, I often write off photographs. And that got me thinking that maybe you folks might have interesting photographs that you’d be willing to share.

If you do, send me your pic to janyre@BeautifulUglyMe.com (along with permission to post the pic), and I’ll write a poem or short story and post it here for everyone else to read.

Tomorrow is Christmas and it doesn’t quite feel that way.
Outside it’s grey and brown rather than white and blue.

I’m sitting at my table, and it feels strange to have frantically wrapped presents until 1 am, and baked until my kitchen was coated in a fine dust of flour and sugar. I’m ready, but not

I spent the last few months getting ready for Christmas, but I lost that place I’ve been learning to protect. That tiny little light inside that reminds me to breathe, to be still. It feels a little dark.

So I choose to sit for a moment contemplating my Christmas tree, following the trail of tiny lights through the green boughs as it winds through handmade ornaments, pictures, imitation birds, and angels, behind red ribbon and bows until the lights taper with the tree to the top where a star is perched, glowing white.

And I think I found Christmas again. It’s there in the light where it battles the darkness, the franticness of life.

I’m amazed at what happens when a group of tiny lights all get together. They conquer the dark.

Wishing you all a light-filled Merry Christmas.

A little over a month ago, I attended my first writer’s conference as a writer and not an editor. I was terrified, but it was wonderful. I walked away armed with goals, ideas, and convictions. One of which was the necessity to start this blog.

When one of the women who run the conference asked me to write a blog for their website, I had no idea what to say. And then I realized I did.

If you haven’t noticed, I’m someone who hates not being able to do it all. So I wrote this blog for the Breathe Conference. It’s a little different than what I usually write. It’s targeted to writers, but really, it applies to everyone.

I hope you’ll pop over to the Breathe website and check it out. Happy juggling!

Juggling Life at the Breathe website