Guest Post // An Introduction

Featured from left to right: Danielle (who has guest posted on this blog before), me (with hair styled by Wind, because I am a classy broad), and Abby (the culprit responsible for this blog post). 

Note: Today I bring you a guest post from my sister, Abby. I apologize in advance. 

I think you know me, coffee beans. At least, I think you know me a little. I’m the sister that pops up from time to time in Liz’s narratives. One time I even wrote a guest post, and I think Liz has shared some of my poetry with you. I don’t know if you’ve ever wanted to know more about me, but for a long time, I’ve wanted to get to know you.

I’m not going to tell you my life story, because Liz has pretty much taken care of that. We haven’t shared every single life experience, and we haven’t responded in the same ways (in fact, we’ve often responded in opposite ways), but we’ve shared enough to be the same kind of different. Which is why we think maybe you won’t mind if I start to write for Out of Coffee, Out of Mind with some regularity. Maybe once a month. Maybe once a year. Who knows? But don’t worry, Liz is still in charge. She won’t let me post anything stupid. **Liz, you won’t let me say anything stupid right?** (Liz: *shifty eyes* Yeah, sure, whatever you say.)

So, for an introduction, let me just start with what I’m reading. Except first I should tell you that I work at an interior design company about an hour from where I live, so I have an hour each morning and an hour each evening to read via audiobook. An hour commute each way might sound absolutely horrible to you, but it’s really not. The Virginia countryside is rural and gorgeous, while the Maryland portion of my drive is...uh...okay. So I get two hours of mandatory reading Per Day. Isn’t that amazing??? Best. Life. Ever.

The reason I have this job is complicated and ugly and messy and horrible, so I’m really trying to stay positive here (I say, filling our landlord’s swimming pool with all the lemonade I’m making from the metric ton of lemons I’ve been handed).

Anyways. I just reread ERAGON by Christopher Paolini. I read it and loved it when I was thirteen, but Not Nearly Enough. Say what you will about how parts seem a little like LORD OF THE RINGS fanfiction. No one world-builds like Paolini. No one. And that kid was nineteen. Geeze. What am I doing with my life? Five out of five.

Just before that, I listened my way through Ally Carter’s NOT IF I SAVE YOU FIRST, just licking up all those Russian accents (yes, my ears can lick). (Liz: Ew.) Ally gives us a secret service agent’s daughter living in the wilds of Alaska, throwing glammed up hatchets with alarming accuracy, trying to save her best friend/worst enemy, the first son of the United States, and keeping her lipstick fresh in the process. Solid. Four out of five.

I’m currently reading Megan Whalen Turner’s The Queen’s Thief series for the first time even though my friends have been hounding me about it for years. I’m working on THE KING OF ATTOLIA right now, and this installment is for sure my favorite so far. I’m also working on SHADES OF EARTH, the last book in Beth Revis’ Across the Universe trilogy. I’m actually reading that one physically, which is nice. I’ve given each of the books in both of these series either a four or a five on Goodreads so far.

But best of all, best of all, I am beta reading Liz’s newest project: PLANET EYES. WHAT IS PLANET EYES? You ask. Calm down. Actually don’t calm down. It’s freaking brilliant. PLANET EYES is the working title Liz settled on for HIRAETH when we all realized that no one could tell when we were saying the name of her book and when we were sneezing. **Bless you, Liz….Oh...Oh right, right I’m on chapter 15.**

This feels like a good time to segue into what I’m writing. Not that you should care too much. (Liz: It’s okay. I don’t.) Liz is still the Mycroft to my Sherlock in all things, especially writing, but whatever. First off, you already know that I write poetry. I also write thoughtful and informative emails So Evil they get me fired from churches. I’m over it. Not bitter. **Chants: I love my new job. I love my two hours of mandatory reading. I love my life.**

But that’s not really what I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you that I’ve been working on a novel, WILL THE BOLD, for the last six years. It’s about an artist and a soldier and a sister and a trail of paintings that the soldier and his sister hope will help him get his life back. And it’s almost done. So that’s exciting. At least, it excites me. I know I don’t have the right to expect you to care about your favorite blogger’s (Please, of course she’s your favorite) sister’s questionably-talented writing ventures, but I’ve got this dream of Liz and me being the new Brontë sisters. So, you know, look out world, and all that.

Aside from reading and writing and working my butt off, I like to hang out with friends, watch TV with Liz, watch TV with my boyfriend, watch TV with my coffee, run around in the rain, beg my boyfriend for a puppy, eat pie, play ukulele, dance to Bieber in the kitchen, cook in the kitchen, and last but certainly not least, leave the kitchen because I am a strong, independent woman with a career at uh...Carefree Kitchens **sigh**.


That’s it, coffee beans, that’s me. Ask me all the questions! Throw tomatoes. Joke’s on you, I make a great tomato sauce. What would you like to know?


P.S. After my initial draft of this post, I did indeed finish PLANET EYES. DANG. Five out of five. Liz and I have had many a good conversation since about possible edits (not that it needed many), and the themes of her work. Let me just say, it is my privilege and genuine pleasure every time I get the chance to have any kind of input on her work.

Do You: A NaNo Pep Talk from a Mere Mortal

Note: Today's pep talk is brought to you by my sister, Abby Brooks. 

My plan this November is to write 50,000 words. Just 50,000. A measly 50,000. A Weasley 50,000. What am I doing with my life? I’ll tell you: I’m living. I’m doing my job; I’m hanging with my friends; I’m spending time outside in the fall air and getting my exercise. I’m cleaning my house and making hot meals and OH BY THE WAY I’m writing a novel. This is a pep talk for people like me who cheer loudly when we reach 2,000 words on a given day, because that is really stretching it. This is a pep talk for writers who have a hard time celebrating their own achievements this month when they remember that the overachievers forum exists. Overachievers, Smover achievers, that’s what I say. Sorry, Liz. Please don’t poison my coffee.

It is a constant human temptation to compare ourselves to others. I do it all the time. See, I’m a fairly standard human being, who happens to have a ton of truly extraordinary friends. There’s the children’s book illustrator, the private investigator, the screenwriter and the philosopher. There are spy boys, musicians, poets, and writers. So. Many. Writers. Some days I wonder why I presume to do anything, to pursue anything, when my closest friends, and even my little sister, can do it so much better. 

When I play this comparing game with my circle of extraordinary friends, I lose sight of the fact that I, too, am a little bit extraordinary. I may not play guitar and sing for hundreds of people each week like my office mate, Taylor. But I do play the ukulele. On my porch swing. For the cat. I might not write poetry in my sleep like I once caught Belle doing, but I do write three or four pieces a year that I’m sorta kinda proud of. Same with painting and languages and knitting and running and blowing bubbles in chocolate milk etc., etc.. BUT LISTEN. The point is not that I don’t do each of these things as well as the next person. The point is that I do them. That alone makes me a little bit extraordinary. Do stuff, coffee beans. Each of you are a little bit extraordinary too.

I heard this saying while bumming at my house, watching Netflix: “You can have anything in life if you will sacrifice everything else for it.” Ai. Shucks. Ain’t nobody sacrificing no Grey’s Anatomy anytime soon. The way I see it, there are two types of overachievers in the world. The first kind is the most obvious. They drop everything except their coffee mugs and pound their keyboards for a month, and trade their sanity and the sound structure of their wrists for five shiny, new novels which they then edit for forever and then publish and get rich and drive their Lamborghini’s around. These people sacrifice everything else for their one, big dream, and they succeed through sheer, brute force. This is how I suspect my sister’s life will play out. Which is awesome. But I’m not like that. I’m the second type of overachiever. The type who could never pick just one dream. The type who could never sacrifice literature for music or music for fitness or fitness for writing or writing for beauty or…or.... I overachieve not in any particular area, but in the sheer number of areas I stubbornly continue to invest in. 

How is this a Nano pep talk? I can hear you yelling now. I’m saying Do You. Succeed on your own terms. Examine yourself. Set goals. Decided how much you can sacrifice without losing yourself and then by all means, sacrifice it. Don’t do less than your best. But don’t make the mistake of thinking that your best is the same as someone else’s best or that your best in any given area isn’t good enough just because someone did better. Just do you. Give yourself all the credit you deserve, and plenty of grace when you do honestly have to admit that you’re not living up to your potential. Ask yourself: What am I doing with my life? and by all means possible make sure that’s an answer you’re proud of. Maybe that means hitting 25,000 words today. Maybe not.

Here I go: 

It was a dark and stormy night…

Nailed it.