Podcast Host Jessica Bowser Discusses the Value of Journaling About Outdoor Experiences

Jessica Bowser, host of the Virginia Outdoor Adventures Podcast, began Virginia State Parks Trail Quest in 2015, visiting every state park over the course of five years. In 2019, when then-state parks director Craig Seaver gifted her with a state parks journal while she was visiting Natural Tunnel State Park, she began journaling about the experience. In the interview below, Bowser talks about the great outdoors, writing, and mental health.

INSPIRED BY OTHER PEOPLE’S STORIES

Mind the Dog Writing Blog: You don’t normally journal in your everyday life. What made you decide to journal about your state park visits?

A cozy fireside at Hungry Mother State Park provides the perfect place for Bowser to write about her experience at the park in March 2020.

Jessica Bowser: The inspiration came from the journals in each of the cabins. When you leaf through those journals, you find people have had very different experiences, even though they are all staying in the same place and the same activities are available to everyone; everyone makes it uniquely their own. You read about something funny that happened with a  pet they brought with them, or some people are newlyweds on their honeymoon. Other people are locals who have family traditions of returning to the same park every year.  You read their personal stories. For example, when I was at Hungry Mother State Park, I was reading an entry from a family that comes every year, and the husband/father is a coal miner–so they had to come during a time that worked out for the coal mining schedule. It was the only vacation that they got every year and that was what they did: They went to Hungry Mother. They stayed in the cabin. They went paddling and swimming in the lake and hiking, and then a few days later, they would have to get back so that he could go back to coal mining. I thought that was so unique. I live up in Northern Virginia. There’s no coal mining up here, and it really is representative of part of the state that unfortunately, a lot of people are unfamiliar with. I love to read these stories and hear about other people’s lives and learn about other people. That is what made me think I should also be keeping a record of my own journey, because I do get around so often that there’s a lot to write about and a lot of things I want to remember and be able to look back on. Those journals prompt you to enter a lot of different information, and so when I do go back and read it, I can think about things that were very specific to that trip that I probably would have otherwise forgotten.

THE VALUE OF RE-READING PAST ENTRIES: REMEMBERING THE PAST, PLANNING FOR THE FUTURE

MTDWB: How often do you go back and read your journal entries? What effect does doing so have on you?

JB: I don’t read them terribly often, but when I am actually at a cabin and I finish an entry, I sometimes flip back and see what else I had written months or even a year or more before. The whole purpose of the journal is to keep a record of what I’ve done so that I can remember my experience. If I don’t go back and read it, then I’m not fulfilling that goal. The benefit that it has, is it brings up a lot of fond memories, but then it also makes me think, ‘Oh, I really want to get back here and do this other thing’ or ‘There’s another park I want to visit that I haven’t been to in a while where I can also have this same experience.’ For example, if I really enjoyed kayaking at Belle Isle, it makes me think, ‘What parks have I not kayaked at?’– because I didn’t have my kayak until last year, so where else do I want to get back to? Well, Smith Mountain Lake is one place that I would love to kayak. I’ll be there this June and I’ll get to have that experience. When I read my journal, I can think about what else I’d like to do in the future, but also be reminded of interesting and fun and meaningful things that have happened in the past.

When I read my journal, I can think about what else I’d like to do in the future, but also be reminded of interesting and fun and meaningful things that have happened in the past.

ON ADAPTING THE JOURNALS TO A PUBLISHED PIECE

MTDWB: Would you ever consider publishing your journal(s) in some form? Why or why not?

JB: I hadn’t thought about it, but now that you say it out loud, it sounds like a future book! It’s interesting you say that, because part of the reason I started the podcast is because there’s a real lack of diversity and also a lack of representation of pretty much all groups except white men, but women specifically. It’s lacking in the outdoor industry and it’s lacking in podcasting, so a podcast by a woman about the outdoors is sort of filling the gap in two different spaces. The larger group that is interested in the podcast are women my age, which isn’t surprising. I think it really appeals to them because they don’t usually hear about somebody like themselves doing this.      

REFLECTING ON EXPERIENCES

MTDWB: How did you feel about journaling during your visits?

JB: Even on the nights when I was really exhausted and I’d think, ‘Oh, gosh. I haven’t done this yet and I really need to,’ I never dreaded it. If it was a chore, I probably wouldn’t do it–I do enjoy doing it. I do like thinking about all the things I might have otherwise missed. I’d really think about what I did on Day One, what I did on Day Two. I’d ask myself how did that make me feel, what did I enjoy about it, what would I like to do differently, what would I like to do when I come back. It was reflective. You do have to really think about everything you did and why you did it and could it be different and was it worth it and all of the things. As an educator, I come at it from having that practice of being reflective and journaling. I appreciate being able to think about what the purpose and the meaning is while I’m writing.

ON JOURNALING AND MINDFULNESS

MTDWB: How did you feel after each entry?

JB: Tired! I only say that because I always journal at night and after a long day, I just want to crawl into bed. I felt fulfilled because I took the time to think about my experience. Oftentimes, we go through the motions and while we might be enjoying it in the moment, once it’s over, sometime we don’t think about it anymore because we’re on to the next thing. Even sometimes while were doing something, we’re not always present. I think that is something people are starting to become more aware of, and they are trying to be more in the moment. That’s something that I personally am working on and I think that journaling is helping me do that more because I have to pay attention to what I’m doing and not let my brain wander. Especially now, as a podcast host, that has crept into my personal life. I have to figure out where the boundaries are for that, because I can no longer just go out for a hike and enjoy the hike. The whole time I’m out there, I’m thinking, ‘what content am I going to come back with and what kind of photos and what kind of video and how do I present this to people?’ As a former educator, I’m also thinking, ‘What questions would people have about this?’ It really takes away from a lot of my experience, so the journaling helps me to be more present in the moment and to enjoy it more because I know I am going to be reflecting on it later.

Bowser journals by the fireside in a cabin at James River State Park in November 2020.

Journaling helps me to be more present.

JOURNALING: GROWTH THROUGH REMEMBERING

MTDWB: Did anything surprise you about your journaling experience?

JB: I think the thing that surprised me was how quickly I forgot about past experiences. You think, ‘Oh, I’m going to remember this,’ and then you don’t. I appreciated, especially as time went on and the entries started to build, that I put those things in writing so that I could remember them—because I really was surprised at how much I forgot. It was a nice reminder of going back to being present in the moment so that I do remember more of the experience. I also like  remembering my feelings at the time, especially with new experiences–if I am doing something for the first time or doing something that I am nervous about or that pushes my boundaries. People often say to me, ‘You’re so fearless; you’re always out there doing these crazy things and you just have no fear,’ and that is absolutely the farthest thing from the truth. I want to do this thing and I’m scared out of my mind and I am going to push myself because I know I shouldn’t be afraid or I’m never going to reach that goal if I don’t step outside of my comfort zone. I see it as a growing or learning opportunity. Journaling helps me with thinking about those moments when I pushed myself out of my comfort zone, and remembering what that was like. It makes me ask myself why I was so afraid of that and what I could have done differently so I wouldn’t have been so nervous–or I realize I can’t believe that scared me because after I did it, it was like, ‘Oh, I could totally do this again,’ and now maybe I have done it three more times and it’s no big deal anymore, but in that initial, first time, it was something really scary. I like to look back, especially on those moments, because I can see the growth and I can see how it’s impacted me and I can see the change and the value in it and it encourages me to continue doing those things. 

Journaling helps me with thinking about those moments when I pushed myself. I like to look back on those moments, because I can see the growth and I can see how it’s impacted me. It encourages me to continue doing those things.

WEAPON OF CHOICE: PEN OR PENCIL?

MTDWB: Did you use pen or pencil when you journaled?

JB: I have a gel pen, and I keep it tucked in the spirals of the journal. I have so many gel pens, it’s ridiculous.

STORYTELLING: WRITING TO CONNECT

Bowser records an episode of her podcast in her closet–a common practice among podcasters. Always looking for ways to connect to her audience, she has found that telling stories of her outdoor experiences has been the most successful.

MTDWB: Did journaling carry over into any other aspects of your life?

JB: I think when you’re a content creator like I am, you have to find ways to connect with your audience. I look for ways to connect with people. It’s all relational. The best way to connect with people is to tell your story, and to tell it in a way that people can envision themselves in your place. In my case, I want people to be encouraged to do those things, whether it’s an outdoor activity or visiting a place or trying something new. For me, journaling is just another form of storytelling, and also at the same time encouraging people to get out and create their own adventure.

The best way to connect with people is to tell your story. Journaling is just another form of storytelling.

ON HER JOURNAL

MTDWB: Was there a specific brand or type of journal you used or preferred? Why?

Bowser displays the state parks journal where she records her various experiences, excursions, and adventures at state parks across Virginia.

JB: I use the same journal that you find in all the state park cabins. It’s the same standard journal in all the cabins. I was visiting Natural Tunnel State Park in October 2019, and it was my first time at that park. I picked up the cabin journal that particular day and I realized that there was an introductory welcome message from Craig Seaver, who was the director of Virginia State Parks when the journal was published. I had met Craig recently and I really connected with his message in the journal because I had just met him at the Virginia Association for Parks conference and really liked him. I wanted to let him know that I had read his message, so I reached out to him on social media, and it turns out that Natural Tunnel was the park where Craig was the park manager before he became director of the whole system, so he had a personal connection with Natural Tunnel. I told him I would really like to have one of these journals, and asked where I could get one. He had a ranger show up at my cabin and deliver me my own journal. I was delighted. I was so excited to start using it. It made me feel so special. The journal itself has meaning to me, because the person who gave it to me is someone I admire. Every time I pull it out, it’s a reminder of Craig. It’s also a reminder of my advocacy with VAFP. It’s also a reminder to take a few minutes out of my experience and document what my experience has been like.

JOURNAL ROUTINE

MTDWB: Was there a particular way you formatted your entries?

JB: The journal asks what dates you were there, what the weather was like, what activities you did, what wildlife you sighted, who you met, who was with you. That’s the front page, and then the back page is blank lined paper for notes

MTDWB: How often and when did you journal?

JB: I always do it at the end of my visit, because I want to make sure that the entry captures my whole visit. Sometimes I will start it during the visit, especially for wildlife sightings, so I don’t forget anything. I will start to fill it out, but I don’t usually do the blank back page until the last night.

JOURNALING, NATURE, AND MENTAL HEALTH

MTDWB: May is Mental Health Month. Can you speak a little bit to the role the outdoors has on mental health? Can you speak a little bit about the role journaling has on mental health?

JB: There has been research out on the benefit of the outdoors on mental health for a long, long time, but I don’t think it has gotten as much attention as it has gotten within the last year. Given the circumstances with the pandemic, you hear over and over that people are getting outside in ways that they never have before. All of a sudden, you couldn’t buy a fire pit or a kayak or a bike. Still, every supply chain is dried up. That is all evidence of the fact that people are now realizing the value of the outdoors. I hope that this isn’t short-term, a time people got outside because they had nothing else to do or they didn’t have other places to go where they could be safe. I hope that this experience will lead to people connecting to the outdoors long-term. Especially from a conservation standpoint, we want people connecting to the outdoors in a meaningful way so they will appreciate it and want to conserve it. Certainly being outdoors has a huge impact on our mental health and it’s something I have done for years and years. I am really excited other people are coming around to have that experience as well.

In terms of journaling and mental health, it has been helpful for me to be more present in the moment. I have also talked to other people who have been journaling about the outdoors.  A potential future guest on the podcast is writing a memoir about losing her brother, and she says the reason she started journaling was because when her brother passed away, someone bought her a journal and encouraged her to write letters to her brother. She started doing that, and it became the basis for her memoir. I can see where journaling would have an impact.

When you combine journaling and the outdoors, you have both of those elements working for you at same time. You have the experience of the outdoors, and the journal to help you reflect on it, and be more present. It is a double whammy. The journal reinforces the impact that the outdoors has on mental health and wellness. It is two sides of the same coin.

When you combine journaling and the outdoors, you have the experience of the outdoors, and the journal to help you reflect on it. The journal reinforces the impact that the outdoors has on mental health and wellness.

Author Bio

Jessica Bowser is the creator and host of Virginia Outdoor Adventures Podcast, which showcases the diversity and beauty of our state by Virginians who have a strong connection with the outdoors. Through conversations with guests, Jessica has created a guide to outdoor recreation and provides recommendations to assist listeners with planning their own adventures close to home. Jessica enjoys capturing her adventures in photographs while she is hiking, cycling, climbing, kayaking, birding, and camping throughout Virginia. Virginia Outdoor Adventures Podcast is available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and anywhere you listen to podcasts. For outdoor travel ideas and recommendations, or to follow Jessica’s adventures, visit www.VirginiaOutdoorAdventures.com, or follow the show on Instagram, Facebook and Twitter.

© Amanda Sue Creasey

https://amandasuecreasey.com/

Book Review: Inside of a Dog: What Dogs See, Smell, and Know, by Alexandra Horowitz

If there is one book you read as a dog lover, dog owner, dog handler, or dog professional, let it be Alexandra Horowitz‘s 2010 book, Inside of a Dog: What Dogs See, Smell, and Know. The only fault I find with this book is actually a fault of my own: that I didn’t find and read it sooner. In the Q&A section beyond the book’s main chapters, readers encounter this question: “How is your book different than other dog books? Does the world need another book on dogs?” Before reading Horowitz’s answer, I knew mine: Yes. If it’s this one, definitely. Yes, it does.

Inside of a Dog is different from any other dog book you have ever read. Rife with short, heartfelt narratives about Horowitz’s own experiences with her beloved dog, Pumpernickel, affectionately called Pump, this scientific and informative piece is relatable and human.

Though Horowitz herself says this “is not a sentimental book,” I would describe it as an effortless mix of sentiment and science, though I admit the likelihood that that perception stems largely from my own sentimentality. I have always loved books that make me cry. Perhaps I was foolish not to think this book would be one of them. The idea that a scientific, informative book of interest to me for practical purposes and general curiosity would make me cry, never crossed my mind. I expected to learn, to be intrigued. I didn’t expect poetry. I didn’t expect to smile so often or cry so much. I never expected so informative a book to also be so emotional.

Human beings act on emotion as much as, if not more than, on reason, so Horowitz’s ability to make sensitive the science, or to make readers sensitive to the science’s ramifications for our own dogs and the quality of the relationships we have with them, not to mention their quality of life, is only appropriate, to say the least.

Her writing utilizes an extensive vocabulary I admire, and is poetic, eloquent, and even tender. The way Horowitz manages to make so educational a book so personal is impressive. Despite its informative nature, the book successfully avoids a didactic tone, and opts instead for a relatable one that is engaging, illuminating, and perspective-changing.

Human beings act on emotion as much as, if not more than, on reason. Horowitz’s ability to make sensitive the science is appropriate, to say the least.

The biggest disappointment about this book is actually the biggest disappointment about humans’ relationship with dogs: that despite so much science, so little has changed in the last 11 years regarding our relationships with our dogs. People are still uninformed or misinformed, and their dogs–and their relationships with them–pay the price.

One of my favorite literary characters, Anne Shirley, often discusses kindred spirits. Ever since I met her on the page, Anne felt like an old friend to me. She is the reason I savor sunsets and sunrises, can’t keep myself indoors on a beautiful day, and shamelessly used the phrase “alabaster brow” in much of my pre-teen ramblings.

When I read Mary Oliver’s book of poetry, Dog Songs, recently, I found a second kindred spirit on the page. Here is a woman who writes about cancelling a trip because she feels her dog does not want her to go, who says one of the most beautiful sights is a dog running unleashed on a beach, who relishes waking at night to snuggle her dog.

Now, I feel as though I have found a third: Alexandra Horowitz, an advocate of sharing our beds with our dogs, of reveling in the joyful greetings we share upon reuniting after a day apart, of not bathing our dogs or cleaning our homes as frequently as society would have us believe we should, and of allowing a dog to be a dog–and understanding what that means.

One of the biggest ideas in the book is “Umwelt,” a German word describing the way a particular being experiences existence and the world. By understanding that our dogs’ Umwelt is not the same as ours–in large part because their sense of smell is primary, where our sense of sight is; because their eyeline is far lower than ours; because of a whole slew of other often overlooked facts–we can better understand their needs, desires, behaviors, etc..

If you want a more informed, fulfilling relationship with your dog, do yourself–and your dog–a favor: Read this book. Learn its lessons. Take them to heart. It will change your life, and your dog’s, for the better.

© Amanda Sue Creasey

AmandaSueCreasey.com

Book Review: Peter Yang’s The Art of Writing, Four Principles for Great Writing that Everyone Needs to Know

The operative word in Peter Yang’s book The Art of Writing: Four Principles for Great Writing that Everyone Needs to Know is “everyone.” As he writes in his introduction, “Everyone can be a writer, if they so choose” (XII). Indeed, the book expresses the idea that, regardless of profession or position, we all need to write, and write well, and is a book for everyone. The seasoned writer might gain insights from the way Yang breaks down and analyzes the practice of writing, but the book would likely prove more useful to those desiring to improve their writing for the workplace, pleasure, or posterity, as well as to beginning writers. With the exception of the fact that an experienced writer or writing instructor is likely to understand concepts in the book that Yang merely glosses over as opposed to deeply explaining, a feature of the book that might prove a disadvantage to its intended audience, it would serve as a helpful handbook to the aspiring writer, regardless of field.

Yang sees “writing as a fundamental life skill” (X), a very valid position, though I would also add “process”–writing is a process and a fundamental life skill. Given the way Yang’s book progresses, it seems he would agree with that addition. He examines what he believes are the four fundamental principles for effective writing: economy, transparency, variety, and harmony. A writer, he posits, who masters these four areas can, as a result, write artistically, making writing “a joyous activity” that leads to “personal fulfillment” (XIII). This type of writing does not endeavor to impress, Yang explains, but to communicate.

He goes on to list five distinguishing attributes of artistic writers: meticulousness, awareness of audience, sincerity, realistic expectations, and flexibility with the four aforementioned principles. While his list of attributes is certainly valid, and he provides short explanations of what these attributes are, the list lacks examples of artistic writers to illustrate how they employ these traits.

A lack of examples and in-depth explanations does plague the book, making it perhaps more useful as a supplemental text in a writing course than a thorough examination of the written word and how to best communicate through it. If employed as a supplemental text with a competent writing instructor to provide examples, explanations, and exercises to accompany the book itself, it would prove incredibly useful.

Economy

The first principle Yang examines is economy. According to Yang, “The composition of your writing should imitate the anatomy of a flower–every part should be necessary and contribute to the whole” (3). This is sound advice. Yang goes on to provide a short explanation of how to simplify a sentence, an explanation that makes sense to a seasoned writer, but might be lost on a beginner.

Following the paragraph, Yang provides several examples to illustrate his thoughts, but the examples, while accurate, lack explanations that might be helpful to a novice writer. The first several sections of the chapter on economy are rife with examples, but lack clear explanations of what they illustrate. In addition, exercises with a key would prove practical and useful–another reason this book would work well as a text in a classroom with an instructor to facilitate practice.

Transparency

According to Yang, “A writer’s work can hew to the other three principles but fail to be artistic if it does not conform to the principle of transparency” (23). Transparency he defines essentially as clarity. “Transparent writing is writing that is lucid and explicit. It leaves no room for doubt and assures the intelligibility of your ideas” (23). Given the assertion that writing cannot be artistic if not transparent, even if it complies with the other three principles, I did wonder why transparency appears second in the book, as opposed to first or last.

Despite their questionable placement in the book, Yang’s ideas regarding transparency are spot-on. Particularly relevant areas include the use of figurative language (which Yang himself employs very well throughout the book), the use of shifts in tense, and the avoidance of flowery language.

One thing this chapter does better than the others is provide explanations of the examples included.

In a nutshell…

Peter Yang’s The Art of Writing is likely to prove interesting to a veteran writer, who would appreciate his breakdown of writing into four fundamental principles. It is an ideal text for the student of writing, provided the student has an instructor to elaborate on the concepts Yang touches on. The book is a good introduction to writing, and with the right elaboration, would prove an excellent text for anyone looking to hone their writing skills.

Variety

Yang’s chapter on variety is accurate, but ironically enough, the three section titles are:

Vary Your Sentence Structure

Vary Your Paragraph Structure

and

Vary Your Word Choice.

While all the above advice is sound, I found the lack of variety in the headings amusing, though not inapproriate (here I violate Yang’s advice to “Write in the Positive,” as explained on page 12). The headings are indeed transparent, and the explanations that follow are legitimate.

Harmony

The fourth and final principle Yang examines is harmony. The explanations in this chapter are clear, concise, and understandable, but do lack concrete examples to illustrate the ideas. While a lack of examples is not likely to matter to a veteran writer, it could matter to a new writer.

Coda

After explaining the four basic principles, Yang includes a final chapter that expresses his “Meditations on Writing.” In this chapter Yang writes, “Writing is not for the impatient. Mastery of writing is a lifelong endeavor” (75). Yang could not be more correct. In my experience, Yang is also correct about the value of taking breaks from one’s writing to increase motivation, as well as about the value of taking risks in one’s writing.

Overall, Peter Yang’s The Art of Writing: Four Principles for Great Writing that Everyone Needs to Know expertly distills writing down into four basic principles. It is an incredibly accessible and digestible read, but perhaps too broad and generalizing. That said, it is a book for the general population, so perhaps that is all fitting.

While veteran writers would be most likely to understand and agree with the concepts expressed in this book, they do not necessarily need this book. Instead, the book would be most enlightening to novice writers or people who do not necessarily consider themselves writers, but do write, whether in their professional or personal lives; however, they would be perhaps the least likely to fully grasp the concepts as they are explained in this book–somewhat skeletally. For that reason, this book is best suited for a fairly experienced writer interested in analyzing the written word, or as a guiding or supplemental text in a writing course wherein an instructor could provide further examples, deeper explanations, and practical exercises.

© Amanda Sue Creasey

https://amandasuecreasey.com/

Guest Post: Finding the Good with Georgie Jane

A few days ago, while at the grocery store, I noticed that out of the folks who were wearing protective masks, a few of them had fashioned a bow on the top of their heads with the top tie of the mask. Particularly striking was the elderly woman in the motorized cart, grabbing produce, the top ties of her mask fashioned into a Minnie Mouse bow atop her head. It seemed so out of place: a contrast of an unexpected innocence and purity amid a merciless pandemic, a swarming store of covered people, whose expressions were hidden, fighting for the best bunch of bananas, and an accidentally gleeful cartoon of a woman.

The bow was akin to a bouquet of flowers centered on a table surrounded by a bickering family. It put me in mind of the pink flower my rescue beagle, Georgie Jane, cheerfully wore.

Lauren V
Wearing her signature pink flower, Georgie shares Lauren’s lap with Gus, the family’s second rescue dog.

Before she was my Georgie, CALC0E, as reads the serial code tattooed inside of her velvety left ear, spent the first six years of her existence stuffed into a communal cage, being used for laboratory testing. She was then purchased and used by a college for a veterinary class, prior to her dump at a local animal shelter. She needed a foster home: a halfway stop between her past and her future, ideally in a loving home.

All too familiar with being handled, she froze and locked her little body when I lifted her from the kennel at the shelter to take her to my house to foster. She was programmed to

Lauren II
Georgie and Gus in their Christmas garb

brace herself, reflexively entering her self-protective state in preparation for a poke or a stick. She vomited during our car ride.

Over the next several days, I sat on the floor with CALC0E, holding her kibble in my outstretched hand during mealtime. Scurrying up to me, she would arrive to snatch the food from my hand with a strained neck and stretched, ready legs, prepared to dash off to the other room as she chewed.

She watched me constantly. She kept track of my position and whereabouts, and I witnessed her pause to discover her reflection in a mirror when her eyes left me long enough to explore. She learned to play, choosing a dancing leaf on the ground outside as her victim, rather than the furry squeaker toys piled in the corner.

She learned to let me pet her without self-protection, free from freezing into defensive please-let-this-be-over-soon mode. I clothed her in a striped sweater. She accepted a collar with a nametag and a fuschia flower, which, after signing the adoption paperwork, I decided would be her trademark. It represented the pink announcement of a birth into a new life, and the “It’s a Girl” declaration to the world, bearing the name “Georgie.”

She was at once difficult and easy to love. She was challenging and a piece of cake. She is ready and apprehensive and timid and eager and nervous and anxious always. She is every side of me I cannot stand, and every part which I love and accept in her. She never settles, and neither did I; neither do I.

Lauren I
Lauren, her husband, Georgie, and Gus pose for a holiday portrait.

I rarely tire of watching Georgie while she is in her curiosity, though on running-late-I-need-to-be-somewhere days, I am impatient with the amount of time her snout requires to discover THAT pavement smell or THIS damp leaf. I am always worried when she wades through fall’s leaves (thanks to THAT time she sniffed too close to a copperhead’s bite).  I can never see my television show over her body as she stands on my chest, the pointy part of her head pushed against my face. Recently, a pillow fort was necessary to prevent her from leaping onto me post-surgery and unfixing my fixed figure.

It makes me happy to hear her beagle bark as she sasses me into a cookie (read: carrot) after potty outside. I cannot help my amusement when I see her stuffed tummy after I catch her (again) breaking into that drawer where we should know better than to keep food. I purse my lips to keep from laughing when I tell her “it’s not time yet” as she tries to convince me she’s ready for dinner. She has a million nicknames, and answers to all of them. She is happy with her entire, wiggling body.

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Don’t we all deserve a CALC0E: a pink sweater; a pavement smell, a leaf-wading, wagging, sniffing, curiously timid chance of letting ourselves out of a reflexively protective life and into a Georgie Jane one? I believe we all deserve to find the Minnie Mouse bow, or the fuschia flower, in the middle of what can be a pandemic of tunnel-visioned, I-was-the-first-to-the-bananas selfishness.

Author Bio

Lauren headshotLauren Mosher is a self-proclaimed escapee of the corporate world. She is active in the community with her volunteer work, both in animal rescue and human welfare movements. She loves pink, has resided on both sides of the river (but won’t admit a favorite), and enjoys living the good vegan life. Lauren now resides in Midlothian, Virginia, with her two rescue dogs and her husband.

Want to share a story about your dog(s)? I would love to read it! To learn about submitting your own story, click here. Deadline: June 16.

First Place Essay: My Return to Mountain Biking

A little over a week ago, I serendipitously learned that Bike Walk RVA, a program of the Richmond Sports Backers, was holding a creative writing contest as part of their annual Bike Month celebration. Equally serendipitously, only a week or two before, I had begun mountain biking again, an activity I had all but given up after a spill scared me off the trails a few years ago.

Left to my own devices, I doubt I ever would have thought to write about my return to mountain biking, but the contest spurred me to do so, and I am so glad. One of the best things about writing contests is the motivation they can provide for us to write, the Mtn Bikecreativity they can inspire. Whether you place in the contest or not, producing a quality piece of writing is its own reward. I felt extremely satisfied and fulfilled after I sat down and churned out my piece, and that is its own win. In this particular case, I enjoyed the added perk of earning first place in the contest, which came with its own sense of satisfaction and excitement.

If that weren’t enough happiness, my five-year-old niece, who entered a short piece in the 5- to 11-year-old category, earned an honorable mention for her story. Currently, she doesn’t particularly enjoy writing, but as the contest motivated me to write my essay, I hope earning recognition in the contest will help foster a love of writing in her.

Below, you’ll find my essay. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it

My Return to Mountain Biking

I am not a risk-taker. I avoid bodily harm at almost all costs. That’s why I run: It requires only that I put one foot in front of the other, preferably without tripping. It’s also why I was in second grade before I removed the training wheels from my bike. My mom maintains second grade “isn’t that bad,” but my kindergarten-aged niece has already mastered the art of riding on two wheels, and her younger sister isn’t far behind. So I really don’t know what got into me several years ago when I decided to try mountain biking. I knew absolutely nothing about it, and it wouldn’t have crossed my mind as a viable outdoor activity for me if I had had an idea of the risk involved.

But I didn’t, so clad in a brand-new helmet and riding gloves, my naivety and I showed up at the Buttermilk Trail. The sign at the trailhead welcomed me with a depiction of a stick figure cyclist falling head-over-heels off his bike, helmet all but flying off his head. “Experienced Riders Only,” it said. But my husband had told me always to use the right break—the rear brake—so what could go wrong?

Surprisingly, nothing did. I rode slowly and dismounted at every obstacle, but I never fell and I never got hurt, so I rode for several months, my growing confidence outpacing my stunted skill.

It was inevitable, I suppose, that the trails eventually put me in my place. One sunny day I decided not to dismount and walk. At all. I cleared the first obstacle. A rush of pride flickered through my body. My confidence surged. I cleared the second obstacle. I was euphoric. I even cleared the third obstacle—but beyond it was a hairpin turn, a small tree situated just at the curve. I lost control, careening into the tree. My bike was broken. My pride was broken—and I thought maybe my wrist was, too. My courage crawled back into the hole where it usually lives.

Having heard the crash, my husband came riding back down the trail toward me. We limped back to our car, walking our bikes. It would be years before I tried mountain biking again.

Those years came to an end last week. On a new bike—one better equipped for trails—I joined my husband and nephew at Pocahontas State Park. I was the slowest of us, but by the end of our ride, my confidence peered around the corner of its cave.

Yesterday, my husband coaxed it out even further, and it felt the sun on its face for the first time in a long time. Without falling, without dismounting to walk, without getting hurt, I rode several trails, ranging from “easiest” to “more difficult.” Common sense steered me away from “most difficult.” For now. But I surmise that maybe, eventually, my courage and my caution will learn to hold hands, and as their relationship thrives, so will my riding.

Sylvia Plath said, “everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.” I find this quote relevant to my experience with this essay in multiple ways. First, self-doubt and fear are exactly what kept me off my bike for so many years, missing out on all kinds of adventures and scenery and exercise. Self-doubt, it seems, is an enemy to more than our creativity. Second, I wouldn’t have thought to write about riding, despite the fact that “everything in life is writable about.” I should keep that advice in mind; there is always something to write about if I have the imagination to find it.

And speaking off…Mind the Dog Writing Blog is currently accepting for consideration submissions about how your dog(s) operate(s) as a positive force in your life. To learn more about submitting your own writing to be featured here, check out the submission guidelines. I can’t wait to see what you’ll write!

Littles in the sun
Mind the Dog Writing Blog is currently accepting for consideration submissions about how your dog(s) operate(s) as a positive force in your life. To learn more about submitting your own writing to be featured here, check out the submission guidelines. I can’t wait to see what you’ll write!

© Amanda Sue Creasey

https://amandasuecreasey.com/

Call for Submissions: Write About Your Dog!

It’s probably pretty obvious, but I’ll say it just in case: I love writing and I love dogs. My dogs, Jack, Sadie, Nacho, and Soda, have inspired me in so many areas of my life–including my writing life, and it occurred to me recently that that might be true for a lot of you, your writing, and your dogs, too. So, in honor of my love (and yours!) for my dogs and for writing, I invite you to submit your own original piece of writing for consideration as a guest post on this blog. Before writing and submitting your own piece for consideration, I recommend reading this post as an example of the types of work likely to be accepted. Please do not feel like your submission has to focus on the pandemic; to the contrary, I welcome submissions about any way your dog has ever helped you see the bright side of things, lifted you up, taught you a lesson, cheered you up, kept you going, or made you smile. Posts will be accepted for consideration until 11:59 PM June 16, 2020.

Guest Post Nacho and Soda
My dogs have proven to be extremely inspirational to me. Above, Soda and Nacho take a break from paddleboarding on the Potomac River in the Northern Neck of Virginia.

Submission Guidelines

  1. Writers certify that they are 18 years of age or older.
  2. Prose submissions should consist of 250-550 words and poetry submissions should be 24 lines or fewer.
  3. All submissions should respond to the prompt: Write about how your dog/dogs has/have been a positive presence and influence in your life.
  4. Submissions should include a short bio of the writer, ranging between 50 and 75 words
  5. Submissions can include up to three photos of the dog(s) written about.

    Guest Post Soda
    Soda relaxes on a beach along the Potomac River.
  6. Writers agree to allow their full name, submission, bio, and photos to appear on this blog and the associated Instagram account, as well as on other associated social media accounts.
  7. Writers of accepted submissions agree to spread the word about their guest post on their own social media, including by sharing a link to their published piece on their own social media accounts and/or websites and by tagging the Mind the Dog Writing Blog Instagram account.
  8. All submissions must be original and true.
  9. Submissions may not have been published anywhere else at any time.
  10. Writers retain all rights to their work but are asked to acknowledge Mind the Dog

    Guest Post Nacho
    From the sand, Nacho watches his daddy paddle back to shore.

    Writing Blog as the original publisher should the piece be published elsewhere in the future.

  11. Writers will not be paid, but will be featured on Mind the Dog Writing Blog and the associated Instagram account, including with links and tags to their social media accounts and/or websites.
  12. To submit a piece of writing, your bio, and up to three relevant photos, email your submission to MindtheDogWritingBlog@gmail.com by 11:59 PM June 16.
  13. Please allow at least three weeks after submitting your post for a response.

Don’t like to write or have a dog, but know someone who does? Please share this opportunity with them!

Have questions? Feel free to comment here, DM me on Instagram, or shoot me an email at MindtheDogWritingBlog@gmail. com. I can’t wait to read what you write!

One, Green Row

Writers, at least those of us with a desire to share or publish our work, need a thick skin. There are always people with ideas pertaining to how we could improve our writing. Some of them are right. Some of them are not. There are always publications that will

Submission Spreadsheet
My record of 2020 submissions thus far

reject our writing–many more than will accept it. For years, I have kept color-coded records of the work I have sent out into the world in hopes of seeing it published. Red indicates a piece has been rejected, white indicates that its publication is still pending (Read: I haven’t heard anything back–yet), blue indicates that it has made it through some initial phase of the acceptance process, and green indicates it has been officially accepted for publication. Consistently, red (in other contexts one of my favorite colors) dominates my submission spreadsheets. So far, 2020 hasn’t proven an exception to this seeming rule. Above is my submission spreadsheet for 2020 thus far. You will note a whole lot of red. And one–one–row of green.

But that single row of green means everything–means more than the over a dozen red rows. That single row of green means the one piece that I most wanted to find a publication home, did. The original version of this piece, “A Search for Meaning in the Face of Loss,” appears on this blog. An abridged version, retitled “Always With Me, Still,” will appear in an upcoming edition of Chicken Soup for the Soul, Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Magic of Dogs, available at bookstores on July 14.

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The cover of Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Magic of Dogs, available in bookstores July 14. A story I wrote about Jack, which also features Sadie, will appear in this book.

The piece, the third about Jack and Sadie to appear in a Chicken Soup book, details the many ways in which Jack is still with me, leaving me signs (usually socks), comforting me, communicating with me, making me smile. Though I initially wrote this piece about a year ago, signs from Jack have not stopped materializing, and I am near-to-tears happy that the story of his ability to stay by my side will be able to reach thousands of readers around the world.

Ever since I submitted the piece in November 2019, I have held close to my heart the hope that it would be accepted. As the January 2020 submission deadline approached, I became increasingly eager to hear whether it would be included. My husband has probably lost count of the number of times I earnestly voiced my hopes, but as he shared them, he was patient with me.

Yes, I am disappointed about the pieces that, so far, remain homeless–but I will continue searching for their homes, and in the meantime, the red rows on my submission spreadsheet pale in comparison to that one, green row.

 

 

Four Tips for Conducting an Interview

Perhaps because I am nosey by nature, one of my favorite elements of writing is the interviewing process. I have no formal training in this arena, but my natural curiosity and talkativeness has helped me out, as have my roles as English teacher, yearbook advisor, freelance writer, blogger, newsroom receptionist, and college-level writing instructor. For the last year in my role as a contributor for The Village News, I have conducted interviews on a regular basis–and love it. If you’re about to embark on an interview, here are four tried-and-true tips for you.

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My most recent interview included Bella, a Rottweiler who recently retired from work as a therapy dog. I interviewed her two owners for a story about Bella’s career and retirement. Photo Credit: Radiant Snapshots.

1. Be Prepared

Come with a few questions prepared and an angle in mind, but also be prepared for the story to reveal itself as the interview unfolds. Don’t be afraid to ask follow-up questions that weren’t part of your original plan, or abandon some questions altogether. I typically end up asking all the questions I came with–and then some. In some rare instances, I didn’t prepare questions at all. Instead, I was prepared to let the conversation unfold completely organically. Usually, I find the theme of the story reveals itself as I interview my subject. By the end of my interviews with several students in and a sensei of a special needs karate class, I knew my theme would be smiling despite trials and tribulations, but I did not start the interview with this message in mind. See what threads you notice, and follow them.

 

2. Get the Basics

Sometimes, I get so lost in the stories my subjects are telling me, I forget to note down the fundamental facts of those stories. Make sure you get the basics–dates, job titles, full names, ages, spellings, locations–whatever might be relevant to the subject matter. I’ve learned to do this up front. I begin by asking as many basic, formulaic questions as I can think of, and when my subject tells me about something that happened, I have learned to immediately follow up with whatever who, what, when, where, why, or how I might need when I sit down later to write the story.

3. Respect the Silence

Sometimes, you’re going to ask a question that your subject isn’t going to answer right away. It may feel awkward, but if someone is silent for a long time after you ask a question, respect the silence. Let them be silent. Sit in it. Let them think. It may be you’ve dredged up an emotionally charged memory and your subject needs a moment to compose himself before he can answer. It may be you’ve asked a question that requires your subject to delve deep into the recesses of memory, retracing facts and dates, before she can respond adequately. Wait. Be patient. The silence will yield to conversation again in due time, and the answer you get after a prolonged silence is likely to be a better one than an answer you prodded for.

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After my June interview with combat wounded war veteran Carlos Rivadeneira, my photographer kindly commented on what an adept interviewer I was. In this particular interview, respecting the silence played a key role. Photo Credit: Sarah Blanchard Photography.

4. Be Clear

Always be clear with your subjects about what is on the record and off the record. If a subject says something that you’re not sure they want published, ask. If you want to ask a question you know isn’t relevant to your story, let your subject know you’re asking “off the record.” If a subject precedes a statement with “not for the story” or “don’t print this,” don’t even take notes about it. This will help you avoid inadvertently including it, having forgotten your subject told you in confidence.

No matter how strong a writer you are, to write journalistically, you must also be a strong interviewer. In fact, over the course of the last year writing for my local paper, I’ve learned that if I conduct a good interview, the person I’m talking to essentially writes the story for me. I just have to put it all in the right order to convey the theme I need to communicate.

Book Review: Yellowstone Has Teeth, by Marjane Ambler

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My husband, sister, brother-in-law, several friends, and I were fortunate enough to spend an entire day in Yellowstone in February.

I picked up Marjane Ambler‘s memoir Yellowstone Has Teeth at the Yellowstone National Park Store in the Bozeman Airport in Bozeman, Montana, back in February when my husband and I made the trip out west with my sister, her husband, and a few friends. Though my aim was to read it before our day-long winter tour of Yellowstone, I kept so busy hiking, snowshoeing, site-seeing, and socializing, that I didn’t begin the book until my husband and I were back home in Virginia. In at least one way, it worked out for the best: Reading this book after my return home allowed me to seemingly extend the trip. Each time I opened its pages, I found myself transported back to the wintry clime of Yellowstone in the snow.

One mark of a really good book is that upon finishing it, you feel a sort of sorrow. Some irrational part of your being hoped you’d be able to go on reading the book indefinitely, despite the dwindling pages behind your bookmark. This was the way I felt when I finished Yellowstone Has Teeth. Luckily, I have a whole cache of books waiting for me to read them, but that was my only consolation. I felt a nagging sadness when I closed the book for the final time. But this was not just because the book was behind me; it was also because (spoiler alert!), as I was finishing the book, Ambler was finishing the cherished chapter of her life that was living in the park. Ending the book this way of course made logical sense, but it was also artful and purposeful. Reading about the end of her time in Yellowstone as I approached the end of my time reading the book resulted in an emotional impact that could not have been achieved had she ended it some other way. Our feelings ran parallel: She was loathe for that chapter of her life to end, and while I commiserated with that sentiment, I also experienced my own grief about ending the book.

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At the base of a mountain and on the banks of the Madison River, bison use their noses to shove snow out of the way in an attempt to reach the grass underneath.

If the book’s ending made an impact, its pages did as well. The book explores many intriguing and important issues, including man’s relationship to the natural world, women’s changing role in a male-dominated profession, rugged individualism and independence versus the need for community and interdependence, and man’s futile attempts to control nature, to name a few.

Ambler also does a superb job of illustrating the juxtaposition between the “civilized world,” and life in the park, in statements such as this one: “I read the animal tracks in the snow instead of a newspaper to discover the news of the day” (30). A page later, she describes the way her husband, Terry, would listen to the traffic report in Los Angeles as he drove his groomer down the snow-covered and deserted park roadways. As he heard the radio announcer advise LA motorists to find an alternate route because “‘An accident has stopped all westbound traffic on the Santa Monica Freeway,'” her husband “smiled at the contrast on his roadway. His headlights illumined only bison tracks breaking the surface of the newly fallen snow” (31).

The book explores many intriguing and important issues, including man’s relationship to the natural world, women’s changing role in a male-dominated profession, rugged individualism and independence versus the need for community and interdependence, and man’s futile attempts to control nature, to name a few.

In addition, Ambler’s imagery sticks with you. When writing about the historic fires of 1988, she describes the sky in the following way: “…huge cumulous clouds…boiled over Two Ocean Plateau, the clouds stained red from the fires below, like cauliflower boiled in blood” (148).

In short, I am so glad Ambler sat down and wrote this book. It provided so much food for thought, and so many insights. I can only imagine what a gift it must be to so well–so intimately–know a place so well-known and infamous. Ambler helped me imagine it a little bit better. Now, there are so many people to whom I want to recommend this book. This week, it will be in the mail on its way to Rocky Mountain National Park, where I hope one of my best friend’s best friends, a female ranger in the park, will enjoy it.

 

The Deeper Difference between Metaphor and Simile

Most people have no trouble understanding the simple, surface difference between a simile and a metaphor. They both serve to make comparisons, but similes use comparison words such as “like” or “as,” whereas metaphors do not. Two examples of simile from my second novel-in-progress, The Experiment, are:

Maybe he could make more of the next 23 hours … if he weren’t so aware of the minutes peeling away like sheets on a desk calendar.

Her pen moved slowly, like her morning thoughts.

To help express the character’s sense of time passing too quickly, the first example draws a comparison between minutes passing and the sheets on a desk calendar being ripped away and discarded. The second example compares the pace of the writer’s pen to the pace of her thoughts–both slow in the early morning hours.

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An example of a metaphor from the same work is:

 …the sky had exchanged its vibrant afternoon blue for a pale lavender nightgown.

In the above example, dusk is compared to (almost equated with) a “pale lavender nightgown” the personified sky dons before nightfall.

When a writer employs a simile, she allows for a degree of separation between the items she compares. They are similar, alike–but not the same. By contrast, a metaphor essentially equates the items it compares. When a writer uses a metaphor, she is implying a much closer comparison than if she uses a simile. As a reader, paying attention to this subtle difference can help you ascertain author’s purpose and better comprehend a character, scene, and so forth. As a writer, be aware of the fact that making comparisons through a simile or a metaphor can produce different effects. A metaphor creates a more direct comparison than does a simile. The choice you make as a writer depends on how close a comparison you intend to draw, or how close a relationship you want to create between the two subjects.

When a writer employs a simile, she allows for a degree of separation between the items she compares. They are similar, alike–but not the same. By contrast, a metaphor essentially equates the items it compares. When a writer uses a metaphor, she is implying a much closer comparison than if she uses a simile.

To see a visual representation of the subtle differences between simile and metaphor, please see this Venn Diagram.