Americans seem hard wired for speed. I remember learning to ski in high school, after quitting gymnastics. Some of my best friends were great skiers, and my first foray into negotiating the slopes was by being shoved, in an ever-so-friendly way, off the top of the mountain. After I somewhat got the hang of it, we would spend our ski days whizzing side to side like maniacs, competing down the slopes--seeing how long we could last without taking a break. Skiing was a frantic race to the bottom.

Then, long after, I spent several days skiing with an Italian family who lived in the Alps. They brought a picnic along, talked about the beauty of the day, of the mountains. They giggled and played games and sang while they leisurely carved mellow tracks in the snow. Sometimes they raced, but they also took breaks and sunned themselves--even the energetic teenagers. Skiing was not about making it to the bottom--it was about the journey to the bottom--a way to embrace a beautiful sunny day, a time to be together and enjoy the gifts that the mountain offered.

And it's not just skiing that Americans like to take at super speed. We eat that way--chomping our food in the car, in enormous gulps. We race in and out of grocery stores, always in a hurry, we buy faster and faster machines--computers that can connect to the internet in one second instead of two. We tap our feet when someone at the bank has a question and holds up the teller...

I'm worried that with all this racing, we Americans are going to zip through life like summer storms--blowing into town in an afternoon, throwing some lightning around--having never seen the place we're raining on. I'm worried that we're losing the ability to look into each other's eyes and really see or care what's there.

The bizarre paradox in this speedy game seems to be that we rush around so that we can then plop ourselves in front of the TV and eat bag after bag of Doritos. Or we sit in front of our computers uploading pictures onto Facebook for hours--did I run that red light today just so I might eat my microwaved dinner over my keyboard?

And new writers have this same tendency--of wanting their work to be finished in a day, and published the day after. I know I'm impatient in this department, but in my writing life, in my work as an editor, and in my personal experience as well, I've learned the importance of the word Slow. If you're a writer, I encourage you to slow down. The process of writing teaches us more than just about the work we're creating. It allows us to live life through the lives of another, to learn those lessons the characters need in order to grow, and to patiently find the best in our words.

My husband and I have been trying to fight this cultural paradox for our twenty years of marriage, and what a battle it is! A daily battle--me against driving too fast and liking barbecue potato chips way too much, and him, well, he's got it better figured out than I do.

I'd like to encourage my fellow Americans to join with me in slowing down. We've tried it long enough to know it's possible--and that life without a television can be rich indeed. One way I've slowed down this last year is by heading to the beach once each week to simply dig in the sand, or watch the plovers, or just walk. I've made a short video, using some of my photos from those times. I'd love to hear some ways--some Slow ways--that work for you...

Like a compass with the dial set to show North, I think about myself automatically, no matter which way I turn. I think I've gone a little over the edge... I think about how much I'd like some new shoes, and a pair of those funky smart wool socks (striped). I dream about back massages, and weekends away. I wonder when I'll get more time to write, and about that next great story that's rolling around in my brain and how it would make a great blockbuster movie... It's all about me, baby. All about me.

To combat all this me-speak, I'm embarking on a year-long experiment, one I hope will stretch and continue to pull me out of my cozy, homey, me-shaped hole. I know I don't have the energy to start a new organization that would change the world in one fell swoop, but I do know that I can make a little more space in my life for others. This idea has been percolating in a very slow and organic way. It feels right.

I love to bake bread; it's already something I do on a semi-regular basis, especially in the winter--so I've decided that at least three times a week, for an entire year, beginning January 1st 2010, I'm going to simply double up on my dough and bake more. I'll continue to bake for my family, but with twice the amount of bread coming out of the oven I'm going to give the other half away. The fun will be deciding on who to give it to. I think it will be different every time. I've been experimenting a bit, trying my hand at this sort of giving for the past several months, and already the results have been fruitful, and surprising.

Just last week some bread popped out of the oven and it was fairly late in the evening. Most people had already eaten. So I told my husband, "I'm just going to walk out the front door and see what happens." I stepped onto the porch and a woman was walking by, talking on her cell phone. I yelled and waved like a crazy woman. "Have you had dinner yet?" She asked the someone on the cell to hang on and then looked at me with a sort of twisted, questioning face. I raised my eyebrows and smiled. "Uh, no," she said. I ran down the brick walk to the street and popped the hot bread into her hand. "Thanks," I heard her say as I sprinted back into the house.

Why not give a hot loaf of bread to a complete stranger walking by talking on a cell? Why not? I'd love to walk by someone's house and have them toddle out the front door and hand me a bag full of pomegranates. That'd be cool. (There I go thinking about myself again!!!) I'm hoping to start something new. This blog will be a journal of my baking--and of those people I meet and the many things I know they'll teach me. I can't wait until January first! I keep wondering why I'm waiting at all.

Oh, but I'm stuck. That's why I haven't launched this blog yet. I simply haven't come up with the perfect name...In the efforts to try and figure this out, I had my family help me brainstorm some name ideas. It was fun, but I'm not sure we nailed down anything useable. Help! You'll see below that I need your help.

First round of bread blog titles
Loving Your Neighbor (boring)
Baking Bread (can't get more boring than that...)
Got Bread? (Oh, that's original)
Baker's Daughter
The Dough Girl
Sour Mom (the kids loved that one!)
Give Away Your Dough (Ha!)
Got Dough?
Give Dough?
The Reluctant Baker (Love the word reluctant, but I can't remember the last time someone had to twist my arm to bake a loaf of bread...)

As you can see, we didn't make much headway with this first batch of names. Though I do think that Give Away Your Dough has some potential :) From this list we used the simple technique of writing any single word that might apply to this idea to help us find more options and talked about the purpose of the blog. The purpose being: to highlight the very act of giving and inspire others to do the same. The vehicle for the giving is a loaf of homemade bread.

Here are the words we listed: dough, bread, give, love, neighbor, peace, sourdough, flour, sourdough, loaf, crusty, crust, mom, knead, yeast, change, generous, gift, daily, small, year, oven, wheat, others...

Second round of bread blog titles:
From Dough to Crust and Back Again
The Return of the Crusty Queen (Ha!)
The Year of the Crust
The Dough Giver
The Dough Whisperer (That totally cracked me up... I do pray when I knead)
Loaves for Blokes
The Sour Mom (The kids really didn't want this one to go unnoticed)
Kneading for Others
Loaves for Love
Out of the Oven (I like this, but I don't want people to constantly think that I'm expecting another baby)
Knead Dough?

So, it's open season on votes. I desperately want your feedback. Please bend your brain to help me get this right. It would be one way you could give... to me...

Love you! Help me!

I am coming to that place in my story where all the emotions begin to erupt. Everyone's getting mad, someone's about to throw something, tears might follow, or shouting, or running away. I look at the words on my computer screen, and suddenly remember that I haven't checked the phone messages in two days. Or I listen for the washer and realize it has stopped. Time to hang the clothes out in the sun.

Or maybe some frozen yogurt would help me figure out just how the next chapter should flow. Time to head to Yogurtland!

I've been watching myself run from conflict for years now. I'm not even sure how I manage to make it back to my desk to continue to write those scenes that bring out the emotion in folks. I'm all for harmony. And of course, that's how I am in real life, too. But you can't have a story without conflict-writer friends know I've tried! It's probably only due to my stubborn streak and a maniacal obsession for loving to cross things off lists that I bungle through writing the tougher scenes... But oh, how long it takes for me to pen anything that is conflict riddled!

It reminds me of my son, who can't sit through a mushy or embarrassing scene in a movie. Even now, at fifteen, he rises from the couch and slinks away until the kissing is finished. He laughs at himself, but won't keep that bottom planted for those thirty seconds of smooching.

Every writer comes at the process of creation and revision (and marketing-since that is now the third rung in a writer's life) differently. I don't like marketing, but I am capable enough, and can do it-will do it-knowing its importance. I love to edit, and can pass hours and hours with a rough draft and coax from it better and better words; that is the part of the process in which all my gifts come together. But writing those most important FIRST draft scenes-filled with raw upset and emotion-that writing only comes out in fits and spurts. Sometimes I walk (or flee is a better word) just as much during the writing of a scene, between trips to the kitchen for snacks or sips of unneeded water, as I do when I'm out walking for exercise later...

I'm looking for solutions. I've thought about working in a public space, where pacing the coffee shop would be unacceptable, and where the laundry and dishes would be far from my hands. But it's hard to cry and talk to yourself, or listen to music in a public space. I'm not sure that's the best idea. I've also thought I might put a seatbelt on my chair and actually strap in. Or maybe duct tape, which would be much harder to undo. I figure if I can't physically leave my writing space, then I might make it through these scenes much more quickly, and maybe the writing will be even more explosive, with all that pent up energy in my body releasing itself through my madly typing fingers. I'll let you know how it goes. It sounds like a fun experiment, or, at minimum, something that might provide a few good laughs while hanging out at Yogurtland.

To maintain a career as a writer, I have to wear, oh, so many hats--and juggle several projects, all at various stages of completion. My marketing hats are the most gruesome of all—they fit too tight, they itch and squeeze my redheaded head... But in this world of writing, they are a must hat, no matter how ill fitting or uncomfortable they might be.

One of the hats I love to don is the creative one. It's all floppy and comfy. It wiggles around on my head and plays jokes on me. It's colorful and is a good companion when I want to just goof around and enjoy words without having them make all that much sense. This hat-made-for-fun doesn't mind if I toss it in the air or use it to gather runaway marbles. It's the perfect play date hat.

I recently put on this hat, took a break from the business side of writing and spent several hours over on the www.Wordle.net site. I had a blast. Since my picture book on St. Brigid is just coming out, I decided to see what the full text would look like as a word cloud. You can see two of the examples above. But I didn't just make two. I was in a playful mood, and I made eight! Not to mention the fact that I also made several of The Man and the Vine as well... (You can see those creations on my Links page...)

So when you're needing a bit of a break from research or heavy writing, or from MARKETING! (or from diapering, or cooking, or running errands, or changing sheets, or sweeping up crumbs from day old muffins, or folding laundry, or writing an explication paper for your English teacher, or taking out the trash, or telling toddlers how to share, or convincing ants to find another home, or paying the bills, or driving to and from baseball practices or school or work or the gym or the beach or the dog park or Trader Joe's, or... we do wear so many hats, don't we?) take a break and play with your own words... You're never too old for a play date.