War. I wish I could feel more hopeful about the winding down of combat operations in Iraq. I missed the President’s speech (see above), and am not sure what to think right now, but here’s what I do know: the U.S. military is full of people serving our country for all the right reasons, and giving up everything to do the best job they can in a totally complicated situation. For them I am grateful and to them I am thankful.

Speaking of war, the documentary Camp Victory, Afghanistan is really fascinating and moving. Also, Restrepo opens this week here in SLC at the Broadway. I’m both eager and scared to see it. Modern warfare makes it too easy for those of us here at home to tune out, forget, misunderstand, or have no clue about what’s going on overseas. We don’t really have to give anything up, the way people did in WWII, and when we’re not feeling the effect on our daily lives we’re not so compelled to understand it. I guess I should just speak for myself. But based on the conversations my friends and I are not having, I’m thinking I’m not the only one. (If there are books or movies that have helped you understand the war in a new or clearer way, feel free to rec them in the comments.)

Locally, The Deseret News just announced it’s going to fire 43% of its staff. Ay-yai. Personally, I’m a Salt Lake Tribune kind of gal, but I’m of the mind that every metropolitan area is better off with at least two thriving papers. We’ll see what happens.

In much more fun news, I did find time to watch the Emmys. (I’m always thankful for these big pop culture events that happen on Sundays, as I generally arrange my life so as not to have to work on Sundays. I’m pretty sure when God set up the idea of a sabbath, this is exactly the kind of thing he had in mind for us, right?) As much as I would have liked to see Coach and Tammy Taylor do well, I was thrilled for Kyra Sedgwick and thought she looked beaaauuuutiful. Of course, I am a wee bit biased, and hoping this could help mean good things for the Story of a Girl movie.

Lastly: My copy of Jonathan Franzen’s Freedom is already in at the library and the timing COULD NOT BE WORSE. I do not have time for Freedom right now! But if I cancel my hold, I’ll go to the back of the line, which is now like 50 people and I may not get it back until 2012. Dilemma.

Okay everyone, back to your enormous stacks of reading! Or maybe that’s just me.

(Totally jacked this photo from wondersmitten. Click on it to see another great pic and commentary.)

Thank you for your wonderful and supportive comments on the last post. You make it all worthwhile.

As I wrote my second book, my biggest fear was that it would be a huge failure and disappointment, that the success of Story of a Girl was a fluke. Sweethearts ended up doing just fine. When I sold books three and four, I didn’t so much fear total failure as I feared that I lacked what it takes to sustain a writing career over the long term. How could I keep this up? I had a sense of urgency about getting irons in the fire and exploiting every opportunity.

Now that I’m taking the last lap in the editorial process with what will be my fourth book, there are remnants of the fear that I can’t sustain this, but mostly they have settled into questions. What do I want next? What are the prospects that excite me vs. the ones that just make me feel tired? What would I do with the next year if I didn’t have to think about money? I haven’t yet tried to sell a fifth book; that’s been an intentional decision. Do I need a break? Do I need to try something completely new? Would a total failure right about now be exactly what I need?

My time at the Glen Workshop this summer provided roomy space not only for pondering these questions in the quiet of my own head, but exploring them with friends and comrades. No one gasped in horror when I talked about directions I might like to go, no one clutched at me and said But what about your career? (You know who you are. Thank you.) Rather, in several conversations, this warning came up: don’t ever do anything for money. Of course, we don’t live in a fantasy world in which all our bills are paid by a patron, and we all sometimes need to do things for money. Yet it’s wise, when possible, to avoid making creative decisions based on financial need—those are the decisions that are mostly likely to wind up sapping you of your energy and making you resent and avoid your work. In other words: don’t let the fear get to you.

And there are a lot of fears churning around in every writer, maybe most of all in those of us who have had some success. There’s the fear of losing your place in the community or the industry and then not being able to get it back, fear of letting people down, fear of being the subject of one of those “whatever happened to…” conversations, fear of stepping out to try something new and getting shot down, judged, fear of the assumptions people might make if you fade away for awhile. Fear of being broke and forced into a job you hate.

I’m weighing all those fears these days as I think about what’s next, and they don’t seem to the power they once did. A lot has happened in the last five years. A lot a lot. I was 34 then, and now I’m about to turn 40. Many of the things I set out to prove to myself and others back then have been proved. Terrain I wanted to explore has been explored. Now the globe is spinning beneath my fingers; it’s up to me to apply pressure where I want to stop. It’s not up to me how it all might turn out.

From the outside in, maybe whatever I do next won’t look that different from what I’ve been doing. Maybe it will. All I know for sure is that in the midst of being smart about the practical needs and realities, I want to be a beginner again at something creative, to always be a learner, to be bold and risk failure. I want to have faith that when I step off the comfortable path, I’m not going to freefall forever. So far, none of my fears have come to fruition—or at least, when they have, they’ve led not to disaster but to growth. All I have to do is hang onto that when panic threatens and fears seem to regain power. Easy.

(I was inspired to organize these thoughts in part by this piece on vocation, by my friend Allison Backous.)

6:00-8:30 pm- Evening Extravaganza This fun-filled, book-themed evening is for everyone! Whether you’re a writer, a book lover, or just want to go out for a nice night, come celebrate with us, and know that your admission ticket goes to a great cause. Enjoy music by the fabulous Nancy Hanson, improv comedy by the hilarious troupe Divine Comedy, and an all-star author panel. Authors include:

Ally Condie, James Dashner, Bree Despain, Jessica Day George, Shannon Hale, Brandon Mull, Brandon Sanderson, Sara Zarr

Pre-order with Google Checkout at the web site, or pay at the door. Cash or check preferred for at-door payment.

• Writing Workshop: $70
• Evening Extravaganza: $10 (individual)
• $25 (family)
• Both Workshop and Evening Extravaganza: $75

NOTE: The workshop is for ages 12 and older. All ages welcome to the evening event.

Hope to see you there!

Also, I wanted to let you know about the third annual Writing for Charity event, right here in Salt Lake, right this very weekend! As in Saturday, August 21st. No, it is not too late to register! This is a great opportunity for anyone interested in writing or illustrating for young readers, especially those of you who may not have the time or money or confidence to invest in a full-on conference. Panels, workshops, critiques, lunch, and meeting writer friends…the perfect way to dip your toes in, and at the same time get books in the hands of kids, and what is better than that?

Go here for the whole scoop. I’ll be there in the evening for the extra-extra-vaganza, on a panel with the Brandons Sanderson and Mull, and up and coming superstar Ally Condie. As a double bonus, the panel will be moderated by the beautiful and charming Shannon Hale, and the debonair and mischievous James Dashner. (Seriously, you never know what’s going to come out of his mouth, or for that matter Shannon’s, so you don’t want to miss that.)

Please come, and bring a few friends. We’d love to have you there.

Here’s a favorite spot from hiatus – the lagoon at Bolinas:

I’ll be on blog break until nearly September, I think.

I’ll be around some—checking my email when I can, on Twitter now and then, and over at the Teen Fiction Cafe periodically. I will use this space if I have any exciting news or important info. But mostly I’ll be away.

In case you missed the news earlier, I deleted my Facebook account back in April, so don’t look for me there. I’m not available for appearances (including Skype visits) until mid-August.

If you miss your weekly dose of Zarr, there are always my books! If you haven’t yet read Once Was Lost, summer is a good time to take care of that. Okay, so it’s not exactly a beach read, but it is a summer story. The paperback will be out in January, but then it will be cold and you’ll have lots of homework. Brrr. Also, Geektastic is now in paperback.

Have a wonderful summer and I’ll see you back here before you know it!

- The New York Times recently featured Salt Lake City in its “36 Hours In...” series. I think you should go ahead and make it 72 hours. There are so many children’s and YA authors per square inch here, if you stay long enough you’ll probably be here during someone’s book release party. (For instance, Jessica Day George’s, tomorrow afternoon at 2 p.m. at the King’s English.)

- Maureen Johnson wrote a manifesto. Though I think there are definitely some practical things to think about in terms of “brand” and networking, MoJoFesto gets a big thumbs up from me.

- Speaking of manifestos, there’s this song, which I discovered via Pandora, and it pretty much blows my mind. It’s Josh Garrels’ Zion & Babylon. Scroll down. It is hot musically, too. He’s got his music streaming on his site – check it out. I don’t really know how I didn’t hear about him before. I ordered a couple of his CDs; right now Over Oceans is my favorite. He’s kind of a Jesusy Matisyahu, or something? I don’t know. It’s just really good.

Okay, that’s all I have. Pretty soon, I’m vacating this space for a large-ish chunk of time. More on that later. Have a great weekend!

In order to cope with and simplify the task of getting my blood sugar under control, I renounced most heavy-duty carbs for a time. Because of my disordered eating past, going cold turkey was the only way I could find my bearings in my new reality. Emotionally, I could not deal with even a taste, could not deal with being around them, because it only reminded me of a disease I was struggling to come to terms with (diabetes) on top of the one I was already managing (binge eating disorder).

Longtime readers of this blog may remember my forays into bread baking using Jeff Hertzberg and Zoe Francois’ book Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day. I even interviewed them! But then we had to break up. I mean in my head. When they sent me their newest book, Healthy Bread in Five Minutes a Day*, it was like an old hot boyfriend was inviting me for a spin on his Harley (not that that’s ever happened to me…). I filed the book away on my shelf and carried on bravely with my broccoli and chicken breast stir-fries and my nuts and berries. I even unfollowed @ArtisanBreadin5 on Twitter because it was all too painful. I had lost faith in bread, and faith in my ability to eat bread.

But now that my numbers are in control and my new eating and exercise habits are firmly established, and after making a searching and fearless moral inventory of how each and every food and exercise affects my blood sugar, I have invited bread back into my heart as my personal Lord and—oh, wait, I’m getting carried away.

What I mean to say is that I now have a right relationship with bread. I can eat it sometimes! In limited quantities! And though all kinds of carbs raise your blood sugar, no matter if they are “good” carbs or “bad” carbs (it is a common myth that diabetics “can’t” eat sugar and “can” eat all the fruit they want) it makes more sense to eat the good kind. The rise is more gentle, and the coming back down is nice and steady, too. No crashing. Also, if you happen to be 5′2″, three months from 40, and in a career that involves sitting on your butt most of the day, you can only eat so many calories. It makes sense to make them count, nutritionally.

So as I began integrating bread back into my diet, I recovered Healthy Bread from the shelf and made out with—I mean, read it. And baked an awesome but small loaf of 100% Whole Wheat Flax Bread (to which I added a little whole rye flour, because I love it). What I love about Zoe and Jeff’s method is how you can make one little roll or a loaf to feed a family without having to do much thinking or planning, and that also makes it easy to have an appropriate quantity on hand to eat and not overdo it.

Also, when you get into buying fancy bread from Whole Foods that doesn’t have this and doesn’t have that and has fiber but not a bunch of scary sounding stuff like maltodextroendosoygritsase, it is spendy! Making it myself will be so much cheaper. My calculations confirm what Jeff came up with, that a 2-oz serving of the 100% Whole Wheat Flax bread has about 21 carbs, 4 grams of fiber, and 5 of protein. There is no added fat or sugar. More importantly, it is delicious.

The book also has recipes for gluten-free breads.

Jeff & Zoe online
Follow them on Twitter / @ArtisanBreadin5
Zoe online

Buy the book:

Shop Indie Bookstores

(*Full disclosure for blogger-ethics-police: Yes, I got the book for free from a publicist. This is no way tainted my opinion of the deliciousness of the bread.)

So, the upcoming weeks are pretty much the busiest and most stressful of the year so far for me. I’m hoping to finish a revision, prep for then teach my Writing & Illustrating for Young Readers class, host a houseguest, and pack up to leave home for a month. And of course do normal stuff like eat, sleep, and work out. There are not enough hours in the day for all that needs doing.

Therefore, obviously, all I want to do is  organize my closet, read cookbooks and create imaginary menus for dinner parties I’ll never have, spring clean, bake bread, nap, and plan vacations that will never happen. I don’t know what that is. Maybe it’s the subconscious acting out denial, or some psychic blowout preventer trying to tell me it’s too much. I know it probably happens to you, too, sometimes. What kinds of tricks does your subconscious get up to when you have a hard task ahead?

I play tricks back: I tell myself I can do anything I want after I do the 37 things on my list for the day. That moment never comes, sucka! My subconscious usually falls for it anyway.

Because I worry about this stuff, and because of other deep-down issues dating back to the cradle, I’m sure, and because of my chronic and acute perfectionism—though I can receive a compliment I don’t really absorb it. And I should. I wind up with a skewed perspective of my life, concentrating only on what I could do better (everything) and not taking time to recognize accomplishments and the good things about being me. Then when stress hits I’ve got nothing to draw on, or remember to feel grateful for.

Last night I was at a class at the gym and I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and in the middle of my chassé I thought, Holy crap. Remember when you were 200 pounds? You have lost almost 60 pounds and kept it off, Sara. YOU DID IT YOURSELF. You did not do weird diets or yo-yo or anything unhealthy. It took forever but You. Did. It. You hung in there with writing for almost ten years before seeing any tangible success. You have been happily married almost twenty. You put your husband through three out of four years of grad school. You run a household. You meet deadlines. You pay bills. You maintain family and friend relationships. You’re pretty nice. And no matter what you may feel like sometimes in the creative process, you’re not a bad writer. In that moment I remembered my self from ten years ago—physically, emotionally, professionally, spiritually. It wasn’t pretty. But now? Not bad, Zarr.

I’m not a person who feels entitled to any special congratulations for that, and I believe none of this would have been possible without my faith, but, a lot of times I fail to appreciate how hard it all is, and it is HARD. Every day I make choices to keep my career going, take care of my diabetes, manage my health and relationships, stay on top of money management, deal with all the random stuff life throws, and only melt down a couple of times a year. Not to mention breaking the chain of family dysfunction and addiction. It’s wearying. Sometimes you just want to curl in a ball and give up on all of it. But you don’t (not for long, anyway). And when I harp on myself for not being perfect, or for failing to live up to my impossible standards, if I take a compliment but don’t absorb it or think about it, it shows a lack of self-respect, a lack of gratitude, and a lack of faith.

I think those of us who were raised in some kind of church, especially, got a lot of messed up messages about humility that made us scared to have positive thoughts about ourselves—the sin nature is always lurking around the corner, putting others first means telling yourself you suck, don’t get too comfortable because you’re not so great and if you take too much leash God will yank you back. If you’re not perfect you’re failing. But a little bit of healthy self-esteem along with clear-eyed self-awareness is part and parcel of being grateful for the work God has done so far in my life, and having faith that he’s not going to quit on me now, and neither am I.

If you haven’t taken the time lately to salute yourself and what you’ve come through and accomplished, and be grateful for it, do it! It’s good. I say so. And, as I’ve established here, I am pretty awesome. And so are you.