As most of you know, I have two daughters. One is twelve and one is thirteen. Yes, I do want to put my own head through a wall, thanks for asking!

I often hear other parents say, “My kid is just my life!” More than that, I see other parents practice what they’re preaching. Their kids really are their lives. They would do anything for their kids, everything for their kids. They tend not to make plans for themselves, with their friends or spouses. They don’t give their children chores. If there’s an issue at school with a classmate or teacher, that issue becomes the parent’s issue.

Because that’s what we’re supposed to do, right? When you have a child, your life stops being about you and starts being about them. Right?

No, not right.

I love my kids more than anything in this whole big world. I’ve never missed a practice or game. I help with homework. If an adult is being unkind to them, I step in big time. But my whole life does not revolve around them. This is not for my benefit, though I do benefit from it. It’s not because I’m selfish or because I have other priorities. When it comes to my kids, I have no higher priority. But it’s what’s best for them and their lives long term. Here are some reasons why.

Other people matter.

My children are the most important people in my life. But they are not the most important people in the whole world. So we don’t do things like accept cuts in line in the bathroom or take up seats on a crowded bus when there are older people or toddlers. Mind you, my kids are older. But I’ve instilled in them, not respect, but courtesy toward their fellow man. You open doors for people who are carrying heavy things. You help the older person off the bus. You pick up the dropped wallet and return it. You give up your seat on the bus to the exhausted woman who obviously just got off a long shift. You help when you can. Not because of praise, but because it’s what you’re supposed to do.

If I do things for them, they don’t learn to do things for themselves.

I was one of those kids everyone hates. I had no idea, when I moved out on my own, how to take care of myself. I couldn’t work a washing machine, didn’t have the discipline to keep a home tidy, had no idea how to make a budget or shop for groceries. I couldn’t cook, that was for damn sure. (I still can’t cook, but we won’t get into that.) I was trying to learn how to keep house with a baby.

I figured it out, through a shit ton of trial and error.

I don’t want my kids to go through that. They take turns making dinner. They know how to run the vacuum and use the washing machine. Now that they’re older, I’m making them sit down and watch me figure out the bills at the start of the month and at every pay day. They don’t like it, but that’s fine. I don’t like it either. It still needs to be done. They need to not only know how to get things done but to have the discipline to do them on their own.

My children need to learn from me that self-care is a priority.

I talked about this before, when I discussed the importance of filling your own cup before you serve others. But I’ll rehash it here, just in case.

If my daughters see me pouring all of myself into them, keeping nothing back for myself, that’s what they’ll think is expected of them as mothers. If they see that I take the time to look after myself, they’ll do the same.

Think about it. Do you want your kids to miss doctors appointments, work themselves sick, stay up until three just to keep the house clean? Should they never buy themselves new clothes, wear the same sneakers until they fall off their feet? Should they neglect their emotional and spiritual needs just because it might take time away from their families?

What would you say to them, if they were acting like that? Now go say it to a mirror.

Someday they’re going to leave home, and then what will I do with myself?

You know that your kids are going to leave home and not need you one day, right? When that day comes, what are you going to do?

Hurry and make some friends? Take up watercolors? Call your kids and meddle in their lives?

I know what I’m going to do. I’m going to write more. I’m going to take long baths, with and without my husband. I’m going to go to hockey games. What I’m not going to do is fuss after them. They’ll have their own lives to live with jobs, homes, and families of their own. While I’ll always be their mom, they’re not always going to need me. I need to be able to handle it when that day comes.

I do kind of like my husband.

That man who lives in my house isn’t just my co-parent. He’s my husband. We didn’t start this family together, but we did stitch it together because we love each other. And I want to keep loving him. So we need to take time for each other now and strengthen our relationship. We have to have more in common than the day to day parenting stuff. Otherwise, I’ll look over in bed and find a stranger there one day.

I won’t always be there for them.

I mean, let’s be realistic. I’m going to die one day. My hope is that by the time I do my kids don’t depend on me for anything. What if that day comes and my daughters are bringing me their minor sewing repairs still? I’ve known grown adults who couldn’t be responsible for their own budgets. They’d give their parents their paychecks, their bills, and leave it at that. Their parents would give them an allowance out of their own money. I know some people who do that with their spouses too. I can’t help but wonder if you don’t know how to budget yourself, what are you going to do when they die?

Losing a parent has got to be tough enough. The last thing I want for my girls is to find that with me gone, they suddenly have to grow up.

What do you think? How much or little do you do for your kids? Let us know in the comments below.

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I started using Good Reads! So, as my reading list continues to be scattered and all over the damn place, you can keep updated with it easier. Here’s a link if you want to follow me or add me.

So, here’s a link to the last reading list I posted. Since February I’ve read a lot of books, but only one of them was on this list.

I should have known. I’m impulsive, especially when it comes to books. I should have known full well I was going to end up scrapping the whole list.

Keep all that in mind before I share my current to read list with you. These aren’t necessarily books I’m going to read. Or books that I’ll be talking about here. These are the books that are on my radar. The books I really want to read.

Today, at least.

Dark Storm and Dark Mage, by M.L. Spencer

Lucky me, I got an advanced copy of the third book in the series in May. I was absolutely blown away by the book. So now, of course, I need to read the first two.

Norse Mythology, by Neil Gaiman

It’s a nonfiction book by Neil Gaiman about Norse Mythology. Do I need to explain why I need to read this book? Good.

Three Sisters, Three Queens, by Phillipa Gregory

Every book in this series so far has fascinated me. If you like historical fiction, you’ll love this. If you find the War of the Roses fascinating like I do, you’ll really love this.

Let’s Pretend This Never Happened, by Jenny Lawson

I have a long history of loving autobiographies from strong women. Princess, Yes Please, Bossypants, Buffering, One More Time. I loved all of these books. I’m also a fan of seeing my, we’ll say less brilliant choices in a better light.

What are you reading right now? Let us know in the comments below.

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Spoiler Warning! If you haven’t read American Gods, or if you’re watching the mini series as it airs on Starz, don’t read this yet!

This is the last Neil Gaiman book for awhile, I promise. At least, until I finish Norse Mythology.

I really loved American Gods. It’s a perfect example of a good book always being too short. Because, even though I read the Author’s Preferred Text and it was a hefty read, it was still too short. And if you’re wondering, I am watching the show on Starz. Yes, I am enjoying it.

But, I’m sure you know the drill by now. I can’t love anything without picking it apart. So here it is, American Gods.

The research.

As a speculative fiction writer, I sometimes discount research. I might give an article about archery a passing glance, but nothing more than that.

Obviously, Neil Gaiman didn’t feel that way. He poured so much information about the history of immigration to America, and the Gods that people brought with them, into this book that it’s amazing. I learned things about mythology reading it. I thought I was pretty well-versed in mythology already. I was wrong.

This has absolutely influenced me in writing the Roc Hunter’s books. While some work is going to need more research than others, this book made me realize that the more knowledge, the more realism you can pour into your fiction, the richer it becomes.

The Coming To America Stories

Scattered through the book, in no particular order, are stories titled “Coming To America”. They weren’t my favorite part of the book because I wanted to continue reading about Shadow and Wednesday.

But saying that this is the weakest part of the book doesn’t mean that they’re bad.

First off, they were cripplingly honest. Uncomfortably so, in some cases. They also tricked you. As you’re reading them, you’d think that they don’t really have any bearing on the main story. As it turns out, though, they really do. You just don’t realize it until you suddenly recognize someone. Or, my favorite part, you look back and realize who someone was.

This is really the brilliance of this book. See, to really understand the gravity of the book you have to have some background information. Gaiman has found a creative way to teach us about the mythology of different cultures in interesting ways. He’s showing, not telling.

Shadow

I have to admit, I didn’t see a lot of what was happening in this book coming. Especially Shadow’s lineage. Looking back, the whole story makes a lot more sense when you realize that Shadow is a demigod.

Not that Gaiman ever used the word. He also never outright said that the crime Shadow was in jail for he committed for his wife Laura.

Shadow’s a conflicted person. He’s a pacifist, which I love. He saved everyone, stopped the whole war by telling the truth. He walked among gods, thinking that he was only a man, and never batted an eye. He found out that his wife was cheating on him with his best friend, and just went on loving her. Even when she showed up dead on his doorstep. He found out that Wednesday orchestrated his very birth, then walked out on him, and still didn’t seek revenge.

Shadow is an admirable character. I just don’t think he knows it.

One reveal hid another. Then another and another.

I couldn’t possibly have guessed everything that was going to happen in this book because too much happened for that to be a possibility. I never thought that the small little down that Shadow is supposed to be hiding away at would have a ghastly secret. I never thought that Wednesday would be Shadow’s father. I never thought that Shadow would need the strength of a death to save everyone.

I don’t know how realistic it is to have so many reveals that no one can keep track, but it certainly made for a fascinating read.

Seeing America from the point of view of an immigrant, writing as an American character.

I was born and raised in America. Aside from a quick trip to Canada as a child, I’ve never been out of the country. (Yes, I know it’s pitiful but traveling is expensive.)

I know what America looks like to an America. I don’t know what it looks like to someone from the outside. I’m not talking about politics. I mean the people who make up this country.

American Gods is a story that reminded me that we are, after all, a country of immigrants. I valued this. It’s a rare thing, being able to see your home from a different perspective.

Hopefully, you’re not reading this if you’ve never read American Gods. If you have read it, I’d encourage you to read it again as a writer. Pick it apart and see what you can learn from it. If you haven’t read it and missed my huge Spoiler Alert above, I’m very sorry.

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My birthday is this week and I’m turning 31. I really didn’t think that turning 30 was going to have any sort of impact on me or how I live my life.

I was wrong. I’ve changed a lot in the last year. Some of it was on purpose. Some of it was just a shift in perspective. At least one thing was a really big surprise.

In short, about to turn 31 Nicole is a different person than about to turn 30 Nicole. Here are some things I’ve learned in the last year.

Face and skin care

I’ve started incorporating taking care of my skin into my self-care routine more. No, I haven’t seen any wrinkles yet. But I have had next to no acne. I might, at 30, finally be done with that.

I’m using a night moisturizer, an under eye cream and a special moisturizing soap. These are things I didn’t bother with up until this year. I’m also making a point of using BB creams with SPF instead of foundations most days and putting on sunscreen any time I’m going to be out in the sun. Finally, I’m drinking more water, finally. The point of all of this is that I’m taking better care of my skin now in the hopes that I can keep looking how I look for awhile longer. I like how I look.

I don’t like being called Miss anymore

I don’t really know if this is about the shift from 29 to 30 or a shift in my perspective as I become more protective of myself as a woman. But when I was younger I had no problem with being called Miss, Honey, Sweetheart, Sweety, Baby Doll or any of the other pet names people (especially older men) feel the need to give women who’s name they don’t know.

Now I’m more likely to quote Janet Jackson. My name’s not Baby, it’s Nicole. Or Mrs. Luttrell. Or, if you really don’t know my name and you don’t want to ask Ma’am is fine.

This desire to not be called pet names is largely due to a shift in how I wish to be perceived. I used to want to be seen as cute, spunky, energetic and funny. Now I’m a grown ass woman. I want to be seen as competent, committed, accomplished. And you don’t call an accomplished woman Miss. You call us Ma’am.

I really need a financial plan

Confession time again; I don’t have an emergency fund. I don’t have three months of expenses saved up. I sure don’t have anything stashed away for Christmas. I don’t own my house, I don’t own a car.

These are all things I’ve decided that I need to change before I turn 40. That’s the ten-year game plan. And I’m getting a lot better at saving money. Not perfect, mind you. But better.

One thing I do have going for me, or so I thought, is that I’m not in debt. Turns out, though, that there’s good debt and bad debt. No debt is almost as bad as bad debt when you start making real financial plans. Like, for instance, what I’m going to talk about next.

I want to buy a house

You probably know that I grew up broke. My grandmother owned her house, my great grandmother owned her house. My mom did not. She was a waitress, we rented. I have always rented. I never thought that buying a house would be something I could do.

Recently I’ve realized that not only can I buy a house, I want to. I really want to own my own home. It’s going to be a damn journey, let me tell you. But I’m going to do it.

How many of you have turned 30? How did it change your life or your perspective of yourself? Maybe it didn’t at all? Let us know in the comments below. Or, you know, just wish me a happy birthday.

I’m turning 31 on the 7^th. That means that I was born in 1986. That means that I, and my husband, are Millennials.

I get that we have a bad name. I hear the word ‘special snowflake’ thrown around, along with ‘safe spaces’ and ‘Boomerang Generation’. We’re the generation that embraced out nerdy side, created crazy social media platforms and way over share. We made the Kardashians stars. We may not have invented reality tv, but we took it and ran with it. We can’t stop buying back our own childhood, over and over.

I’m actually sick to death of this whole mentality that my generation is full of weak-willed children who can’t deal with the real world. Yeah, there’s a good amount of that out there, but there always has been. We’re dealing with a lot, and we’ve done a lot. Here’s what the world actually looks like to a Millennial.

We are in a bad place, financially.

Let me throw some numbers at you from previous years with this handy chart.

Here’s a link to the full article that explains, in detail, how much we’re all kind of screwed financially. Yes, we’re all living with this. The difference is that people my age are living with it, children, aging parents who can no longer take care of themselves and crippling student loan debts. Yeah, some people are moving back in with their parents. A lot of other people are having their parents move in with them. So maybe keep in mind that the ‘lazy Millennial’ who can’t afford to buy a car probably has a lot more to deal with financially than her parents did when they were in their thirties.

We’re breaking all of the rules.

And I’m loving it! We’ve changed the face of ‘Family’. We’ve boosted Youtube people to stardom. We don’t wait for people to tell us we can do something like start a business or get published. We just go out and do it. I’m a great example of this. My youthful impatience pushed me to publish my own books.

A lot of have jobs that didn’t even exist for generations before because we decided to invent them. We’re not waiting for permission to do what we want.

We really like a lot of the things from our childhood. That’s why they’re coming back.

I actually started writing this blog post about Bill Nye Saves The World. It’s on Netflix and I love it. Watching that show feels like I’m hanging out with an uncle who remembers how I was as a kid but understands that I’m a grown up now.

Look all around and you’ll see examples of Millennials bringing back things from their childhood. Why? Because they’re cool and we like them. We crowdfunded Mystery Science Theater 3000 because we wanted it back.

We decided that we didn’t have to give up the things we liked about being kids when we became adults. Let’s take me as an example. I work a full-time job and financially support my family of four. My husband and I keep a house, raise two kids and are becoming increasingly responsible for older family members. I also publish several books a year.

Can I please watch Bill Nye and have an ice cream without being judged?! Is it so terrible if I want to play video games after a long (long long) day? How about if I just want to chill out with a coloring book? Can you really say that’s less healthy than crashing in front of some ‘grown up’ show or a game show?

We actually have a scary good work ethic. It’s just not the same kind of work ethic as generations before us.

Yeah, Millennials invented all sorts of terms that, frankly, offend me as a writer and lover of the English language. The next person who says YOLO to me is going to find out how right they are.

But you know what other phrase Millennials invented? Side Hustle.

As in, “I have a full-time job, but I don’t really want to do this my whole life. So I’m not going to pour my time and energy into a job so that I can get promoted and do more work that I don’t really love. I’m going to go to work and do my job, and do it well. But I’m going to have this thing on the side that I really do love. Someday this will be how I make my money. But for now, it’s my side hustle.”

And we’re hustling. We’re taking up our evenings and weekends. We’re working our eight hours, then putting in way more to our passions. We know that living our free and independent lives means work. But when it’s work we love, who cares? I don’t really mind getting up before work to write because I love writing. Millennials are starting their own businesses in the wee hours of the morning, the late nights. We’re creating companies while sitting in coffee shops. We’re writing and producing music while our kids are napping. We’re building the lives we want.

If we are putting up with some stupid behavior, it’s because we want to be good to people and are going overboard.

Look, I’m not thrilled about the people who want to say they’re foxes or dragons or spiders. I’m also really not thrilled with people who claim to be ‘triggered’ all the damn time. I don’t believe we need ‘safe spaces’ on campus where people don’t have to interact with others who might disagree with them.

I do love that having a mental illness isn’t seen as a weakness. People who suffer from depression, anxiety, self-harm, PTSD, Postpartum depression and any number of other issues talk about their diseases openly and honestly. I try to do that here, talking about how my depression and anxiety impact my life and how I manage them. If some posers who don’t really have issues pretend to for attention, I can live with that. It pisses me off. But I’d rather have that and give the people who are really sick the support.

I love that people are free to embrace who we are. I am fully in support of the transgender community and think it’s great that they’re doing what they want to do with their own bodies.

I don’t love that we’re so worried about offending people that we’re policing each other and becoming way oversensitive. But I do consider it acceptable to people throwing around racist slurs like it’s acceptable behavior. (Though I really think we need to find a happy medium. For real, people, learn to take a joke.)

This is how I feel about my own generation. But I’d love to hear from you. I know that some of you reading this are from my generation. Some of you are from older generations. So please let us know. What do you think of the Millennials? What do you think of your own generation? Let us know in the comments below.

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I didn’t start this year out with the best of spirits. I mean, sure, my book got published in December, but that was one good thing in a sea of burning grease. This was not helping my depression, that just seems to be getting worse every year.

I’m quite accustomed to hearing ‘helpful suggestions’ regarding depression and hard times. One that I hear over and over is to keep a gratitude log. I’ve tried for a while, devoting a page in my bullet journal to it. But it became something that I consistently forgot to do. It was something else for me to feel guilty about. Something else that I was failing at.

I finally found the solution and started trying the gratitude log a different way. I have an Erin Condron planner, and along the left-hand side of each week, there’s a place for notes that I do nothing with. I used to keep my to-do list there, but it needed more room. So for months, it was just blank space. Sometimes I’d write future notes there, but mostly it was just wasted space.

Then I started keeping my gratitude log there. I remember to do it, every morning. And I’ll tell you, it’s really helping. If I start my day, filled with anger and resentment from the day before, or dreading that today will be as bad as yesterday, it puts a dark cloud over my morning.

Instead, I start my day with this exercise. I look at my planner and try to think of two good things that happened the day before. I can usually think of at least two good things. Most of the time I can think of more.

And, as it turns out, it really does help brighten my day a little bit. Give it a shot, if you can. Move your gratitude log into your planner so that you can see it every morning. Do it for a month, and see how you feel.

Just a thought.

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Some mornings suck, no one’s going to argue that. Maybe you’re sick, or depressed. Maybe it’s raining or you’ve had to get up too early too often. Maybe you’re going through some stuff.

I had some of those mornings recently. Some personal stuff in my life has been getting me down for a little while, stressing me out. But I still have to get up and do my job. I still have to be the adult and take care of my kids, even if I’m not feeling it. First off, I’m still a mom, even on the days I don’t want to be an adult. My kids are depending on me. Second, if I’m unproductive I’ll just sink further into depression. Even if I’m sick, I have a tendency to sink into a really bad funk because I feel like I failed, somehow. Yes, I know that’s wrong. That’s part of how depression works.

I’m not going to tell you that I have a surefire way to get through a rough morning and come out smiling. But I do have some things in place to help with the bad mornings. Here’s my tried and true list of do’s and don’ts for bad mornings.

Don’t-

Touch the snooze button.

Not even once. You’ll just feel bad about it and have less time to work with. Being rushed is not going to make your morning better. And you’re not going to get anything out of those extra ten minutes. It’s going to be just as hard to get up the second time the alarm rings, trust me.

Treat yourself to something expensive

If you normally don’t stop for a coffee on the way to work, don’t do it today. First off, if you’re suffering from depression, it might make you feel guilty. Besides that, this sort of coping mechanism leads to an unhealthy relationship with food. It’s fine for a good cup of fancy coffee to be a treat, but it shouldn’t be a reward for doing what you have to do anyway.

Skip your self-care routine

Don’t skip your face care, don’t skip your teeth brushing. It will just make you feel worse in the end if you don’t look put together. Besides that, these actions can help you feel better about the day. Wash your face, put on some moisturizer, whatever you normally do to care for yourself in the morning. It might not make your morning all better, but neglecting to do it will surely make it worse.

Turn on the news

I’m the last person to tell you not to be informed about what’s going on in these dark times. If we don’t know what’s happening we can’t fight for what we believe in, and then the bad guys win.

But we don’t need to deal with that first thing in the morning. We’ve got our own personal world on our shoulders already, we don’t need to add the rest of the world as well. At least, not before coffee.

Do-

Plan in advance for bad mornings

They’re going to happen. Having a strong evening plan is going to help any morning, but especially a bad morning. I can’t be the only person who’s ever just sat down and cried because they didn’t have any clean jeans in the morning.

Have something beautiful to look at.

While I think you should stay off of social media in general, I am a big supporter of Instagram. Especially if you follow topics that are inspiring. I follow several foster cat homes, a few hedgehogs, several inspirational business people, lots of people who like to take gorgeous pictures of their travels and lots of bullet journalists. I don’t follow people who post anything negative. I do follow Steve Burns (Steve from Blue’s Clues) and this person who posts videos of slime. When I’m starting my day with pictures of adorable animals, inspiring messages, fantastic makeup and funny comics, I’m a little more okay with getting up.

Do what you can to be happy about how you look

I love my makeup, but on mornings when I’m depressed I don’t even want to look at it. But I know that I’ll feel better with a little eyeliner and some mascara. So, I have a basic look plan. Concealer under my eyes and at problem areas. A little bit of black eyeliner. A little bit of mascara. Red lipstick. I don’t know what it is about red lipstick, but it makes me feel fierce.

I’m not saying you have to wear red lipstick. Maybe you need your favorite sweater or that pair of pants that makes your backside look nice. Maybe it’s something no one will even see, like cute underwear. Whatever little thing you can do to feel good about your reflection, do it.

Eat a healthy breakfast that you feel good about

Avocado toast takes less than no time, and it’s delicious. It’s also healthy. But it’s not your only option. A bowl of cereal can also be good for you, or just some toast and jam. Yeah, I know you’re probably not hungry. But you will be before lunch, and it will make you feel worse. So eat something.

Give yourself some grace if you’re still in a funk

And if you’ve done, or not done, everything on this list and you still feel down, remind yourself that it will pass. You don’t have to be happy every day. You don’t owe anyone that. So maybe just give yourself the grace to feel quiet and sensitive today. Don’t apologize for it, don’t you dare. Just let yourself feel how you feel.

A lot of times, when I’m depressed, I feel like I’m doing something wrong. It’s my fault, I’m just being a baby. If I’m not happy now, with a loving family, a good job and several published books, what the hell will ever make me happy?

When I managed a shoe store, I used to tell myself, I’d never be happy if I wasn’t happy there. I thought that because I had a good job and a good relationship I owed the universe happiness. But that was a load of shit. First off, my job wasn’t good. Better than I’d had before doesn’t equal good. I wasn’t happy, but I didn’t allow myself to feel it. And if I’d listened earlier, maybe I could have left my shitty job earlier. So don’t put it on yourself to be happy all the time.

I’m going to repeat it one more time, so everyone hears me. You don’t owe happy to anyone. You owe yourself grace, good care, and patience.

Especially on the tough mornings.

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When I was thirteen, I was subjected to the same ‘career planning’ we subject everyone to at that age. It’s kind of messed up that we ask kids that age to start making real decisions about their future. I have kids that age. I don’t think they have the slightest idea what they want out of their lives, except to be allowed to stay up as late as they want and drink Coke every day.

I was actually the exception to the rule; I knew just what I wanted to be. I wanted to be a writer.

But that’s not the answer a teacher wants to hear at thirteen. It’s not ‘realistic’ at thirteen to want to be a writer. So, when I told my English teacher this, she kindly suggested to me that it wasn’t a viable option. Writers don’t make a lot of money. And if they do make money, it takes them years and years to make it.

I think she talked to me about journalism. I think I folded and told her I wanted to be a vet just so that she’d stop gently breaking my spirit.

That year I shadowed for a vet’s office and decided that wasn’t for me. Too much death for my gentle soul. I joined Jr ROTC and the school paper, still trying to figure out something I could do that would make me happy. I doubt I need to tell you that I wasn’t the military sort. Journalism was fun, but I didn’t see it being a lifelong love.

Of course, you know how the rest of the story goes. I had a rocky couple of, um, decades. But now I am, in fact, a writer. I still have a full-time day job, that’s true. But I am a published author. And I wish that I could talk to that teacher, who told me how wholly unrealistic this life would be. So I decided to write her an open letter. Here it is.

I guess that nearly 20 years is a long time to hold a grudge against someone who only meant well. It’s been a long time, and I guess there’s a good chance you don’t even remember me. You’ve had so many students come and go, I’m sure. And, in fairness, I bet you didn’t ever mean to dash my dreams.

Actually, you didn’t. You told me that people don’t make money writing, at least not for a long, long time. You told me something that I think every writer needs to hear, but maybe not so early.

I wish that you would have done something more, something better. I wish that you would have talked to me about what I could do. I wish that I’d had someone, anyone, to take me by the hand and explain that money wasn’t going to matter. That I could always make money in other ways. I wish that you, and all teachers, were more in the habit of explaining how someone achieves the big dreams. The shoot for the sky dreams. I know it was nothing personal when you told me my dream wasn’t likely to happen. I imagine you’d have said the same thing to any child who told you she wanted to be a writer, singer, artist, actor. Not the kids who want to open their own restaurants, or the ones who want to be lawyers or police officers. There’s a simple, straight path to those jobs. You might still fail, sure, but the chance for failure is significantly less. Most people who want to be lawyers become lawyers if they can afford to go to school. Most people who want to be writers won’t be writers.

And there’s not a lot of room for careers where you’re probably not going to succeed. What I needed was for someone to say, “Look, you’re not going to make a lot of money at this right off the bat. For a couple of years, maybe decades really. So, the first thing you do is that you get yourself a fallback. You start applying for grants right now, and maybe you’ll get a couple. But you might not. Even if you do get grants, they might run out before you’re making enough money writing to keep yourself fed. So here’s what you do. You find a job that you like, that pays the bills well enough. You get that job to keep a roof over your head, and then you start writing. You write every day, and you treat it like it’s going to be the thing that you do for the rest of your life. Be good at your day job, because there’s a good chance you’re going to be doing it forever. But maybe there are more important things than money. Maybe you’ll find that you really like what you’re doing, and you’re happier doing that than you ever could be doing anything else. And who knows, maybe you will make it big, and the dream job can be the only job. It’s always possible, don’t think that it’s not. But you’ll for sure never get it if you don’t try.”

Maybe you can’t say that to a kid. Maybe a college teacher could have said it but a high school teacher can’t. Maybe that’s the problem we need to be fixing.

I want to tell you that I’ve almost made it, anyway. I’m not making money writing, but I am writing. People are reading what I’m writing, which is the more exciting thing. I’m doing what I love and letting the money follow.

I want to tell you that, if you can, help the kids with the unrealistic dreams. Maybe they won’t succeed, and they’ll end up in a dead-end job.

Or maybe they will succeed.

Thank you for teaching anyway, it’s a damn hard job.

Love,

Nicole.

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Warning: This is probably the most offensive, inappropriate show that we’ve ever talked about here on PBW. If you haven’t yet seen Rick and Morty, I’m warning you now that there is violence, offensive language and lots of gross sexual depravity. This is not a cute show about a boy and his grandpa.

If you have seen it, I don’t have to tell you that, despite its graphic vulgarity, the show is brilliant. You’re probably dying for the new episodes to start this summer, wondering if the April Fools Day episode was canon (because there’s a rumor that it’s not,) and wishing that there were more than two seasons to re-watch while we wait.

I love this show, and I think it’s a lot smarter than people give it credit for. And, as with everything I love, I have to pull it apart and see how it works. As I did this, I realized that the main reason this show works, for me at least, is the character of Rick himself. So, instead of picking apart the whole show, I just want to talk about Rick. Because he’s a fascinating character and the sort that you don’t often see as main characters in shows.

He’s a horrible person.

Rick is not a hero. He’s not even an antihero most of the time. He’s selfish, offensive and interested only in his own happiness. In fact, it could be said that Rick is often a bad guy. He created and enslaved a whole race just to be his car battery. He coldly sells weapons to assassins and kills without mercy or remorse. He has actively stated that the only reason he takes his grandson with him anywhere is because he works as sort of a shield, keeping people from detecting Rick. The only person he seems to genuinely care about, most of the time, is his daughter, Morty’s mother Beth.

This does not make him an admirable person. I know that some people would tell you that there’s a part of everyone who would love to be Rick; acting without a conscience, without fear of repercussions. Forgive my presumptions, but I think that’s bullshit. Maybe I’m just naive, but I think most people wouldn’t want to cause harm to most people. I can certainly think of people who don’t have that moral compass, and I can think of people I personally wouldn’t mind causing harm to. But to say that people like characters like Rick because we’d like to emulate him I think is completely wrong.

I like watching Rick because he is different than me. I’d like to write a character like that for the same reason. I enjoy new experiences, things that are foreign and different than my every day. I enjoy stories in which I don’t know what’s going to happen next. If a character is like me, I have a pretty good idea of what she’s going to do. While I’ll connect more with a character like that, I won’t be as compelled by a character like that.

His past, of which we know so very little.

The unknown is a lot of why this character works, actually. If you’ve watched all of season one and two, you know that we don’t know a lot about Rick’s past. We don’t know why he wasn’t in Beth’s life until recently. We don’t know why he’s living with her family (though I think it’s got a lot to do with the fact that he’s got to have Morty around to shield him.) We don’t know a lot of why the large governmental agency wants to arrest him. And we’re just now starting to get hints about some great galactic war he was in. Hell, we don’t even know who Beth’s mom is. (I’ve heard a theory that it might be Unity. I don’t know if I agree, but I think it’s an interesting idea. I think that Beth would have some sort of powers if that were true.)

The fact that this blog post has been full of fan theories should tell you what sort of reaction this causes in fans. It’s that same 1+1 analogy again. I want to solve the mystery; I want to know what’s happening! I want to know the juicy, probably really sad reason he left his wife and daughter. I want to know, if the April Fools Day episode was canon, why did Rick leave his wife and daughter?

Sometimes a story is defined by what we don’t know, or what we want to know, just as much as what we do know. In fact, not knowing the ending is a large part of why we keep reading or watching. Because if we already know the end, where’s the fun?

His interactions with Morty.

I mentioned earlier that Rick seems to only care about his daughter, Beth, but that’s not entirely true. It just so happens that she’s the only one he seems to have outward affection for. But we do see, occasionally, his attachment to his grandchildren. Especially Morty.

It’s been clearly established that Rick has to have Morty around to shield him. We also know that there is an infinite number of Ricks throughout different alternate universes, with infinite Ricks and Mortys. There’s a memorable, and chilling episode in which this is discovered at length. Ricks don’t care about Mortys. But it’s made clear, in that same episode, that Rick not only cares about Morty but holds fond memories of him as a baby. While he manages to hide it most of the time, from himself as much as anyone, he really does care about his grandson. This is the speck of humanity that Rick needs to be a redeemable character, in my opinion. We can argue that he’s only kind to his daughter to have a place to live. While he is brilliant and doesn’t seem to have any trouble making money, he might find it easier to mooch off of his daughter and son in law.

It’s only with Morty that we see Rick be selfless. Not even both of the kids, though I suspect he would die to protect Summer as he nearly died to protect Morty. And it’s this shred of humanity, that redeems Rick and makes him a complex, dynamic character.

If you’re a fan of Rick and Morty, I suggest watching the episodes from season one and two again, as a writer. Pick apart Rick, see what makes his character work as well as it does.

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My daughters have always been interested in art. Painting, sketching, even a little bit of writing. I encourage this because I’m their mom and I want them to experiment with things. I also encourage this because I am an artist, a writer, and I would like them to be artists as well.

Having three artists in the house is challenging, though. A normal house with three women is loud, we’re loud and messy. No, we’re loud, messy and scatterbrained. As you can imagine, my husband is often moderator, critic and highly stressed out by all of us.

We’ve had to establish a pretty strict list of rules to help each other grow, and support each other. Also, not kill each other. Here are some of our artist house rules.

We don’t watch anything that we can’t pause.

Going to movies at theaters isn’t something we enjoy. We can’t stretch out, the snacks are expensive and there are people. But the biggest issue, the thing that really keeps nerds like us away from opening nights, is that we like to talk about what we’re watching. And that’s frowned upon. Actually, I’ve nearly been asked to leave a few movies.

So, it’s a rule in our house that, no matter what we’re watching, if someone has something to say we pause it. This can be for jokes, comments, full-blown discussions about the Holocaust. Whatever comes up.

We don’t have to like each other’s work.

But I’m their mom, everything they make is art, right?

No, not when they’re trying to get better. Not when one daughter is talking about teaching art and one is talking about having a show at the local art center.

Not when they’re serious about it. And the same goes for my writing. Yes, I do let my kids read my writing if they ask to. No, I don’t expect them to read it, ask to read it or enjoy it even if they do read it. They’re my kids, they don’t owe me that.

If you’re wondering, one kid does read and enjoy my work. One doesn’t. The one who does is mad I won’t let her see Starting Chains until it’s published.

We also don’t have to be assholes about it.

This is a rule more for my children than me. They’re sisters, after all, and sometimes they just don’t give a shit about each other’s feelings. In fact, sometimes they want to hurt each others feeling on purpose. Don’t judge. I bet Mother Theresa wasn’t nice to her sister either.

While the kids aren’t always good about it, we do try. If we have something negative to say about someone’s work, we try to say it nicely.

We all have to be open to criticism.

Which isn’t to say that we’re not allowed to criticize. As I said, we all want to be better. My kids love to find issues with my books, of course. I do make them prove it’s an actual problem, though. But we must have open minds when it comes to getting better.

We don’t mess with each other’s work.

No moving each other’s work. No scribbling in each other’s books. No anything like that. Pretty self-explanatory.

No piece of paper may be thrown away until everyone in the house has handed a chance to pass on it.

Not a lot of paper gets thrown away. Either there’s something important on it, or something important can be on it.

These are your pens, these are my pens and that’s how it’s going to stay.

I write and they draw. I don’t let them use my Le Pens and I don’t want to use their artist pens. But they’re also not permitted to use each other’s pens. We all have different opinions of how we should care for our pens. Keeping our supplies to ourselves prevents a lot of fighting.

Everyone pitches in with chores so that we all have more time to create.

No one in the house is big on housework. We’d all rather be drawing or writing. But I’ve taught my kids that if we all work together no one has to do too much.

We are artists, but we’re a family first.

Artists take a lot of pleasure in being independent. We all think that we’re lonely creators, tortured by our talent.

We don’t really deal with this crap in our house. We support each other, we look out for each other. We love each other.

If you’ve got a house full of artists, I suggest coming up with your own house rules.

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