By the time you’re reading this, my family and I are probably somewhere in Asia. Yesterday, we strapped on our backpacks, boarded a plane, and started our year-long adventure of traveling around the world. This has been years in the making for us, so it’s a bit of dream come true that we’re finally doing it and not just talking about it. We honestly weren’t sure this would ever happen. But even though this is a dream come true, we’re still nervous.
A few months ago, my newest book released to the public. Seeing as I had already submitted its first draft over a year ago, it was such a relief to finally have this baby of mine out in the world and available to sit on other people’s shelves. (It’s amazing how long the book-publishing process […]
A few days ago, my family and I returned home after a two-month long road trip. On the way back, my husband Kyle and I had our customary debriefing conversation per easing back in to normal life: What was your favorite part of the trip? What did you learn? What makes you excited to head back home? What makes you not so excited?
(We’re not really very formal about this—we just ask each other questions off the top of our heads while the kids go nuts in the back seats.)
Small—this has been the word on repeat in my brain this past month.
My family and I are currently on a road trip to both celebrate my recent book’s release, and to meet readers over a glass and conversation. We’re inching our way upwards and down parts of the U.S., meeting readers and enjoying life with often-distant friends, and I gotta tell you: over and over again I’m hearing what seems to be on everybody’s minds. Smallness.
I saw The Secret Life of Walter Mitty in the theater last night, and walked out lighter than air. There’s something about a movie (or any story, really) where the protagonist overcomes fear by way of ridiculous risk that makes my heart soar. I know what it’s like to be scared of risk.
But I’m not always the best at looking at risk head on and saying, “Alright. It’s go time.” I tend to turn around and bury myself somewhere safe—making tacos, letting the kids watch another cartoon, writing a post no one could disagree with, watching Friends reruns.