I hope this finds you all safe and healthy during the current crazy coronavirus crisis. (Say that five times fast!) [No. Seriously. I double-dog dare you, and post it on social media. No prize awarded for your participation, unfortunately.]
Well, I’m dropping a line here to let y’all know that, like so much in life, a change is gonna come. (Cue Otis Redding.)
I’ve been quietly working on my other website, mollyjorealy.com, and while it’s not full-on ready for eyes, pretty soon I’ll be moving content from Frankly, My Dear … over to that site. I’ll keep FMD up as an archive of sorts, but soon I’ll be shutting down emails and contact forms with that connection.
What does that mean for you? Well, nothing much, I hope. But I do want to confirm you’re still interested in getting my posts. So, if y’all could, please click here to resubscribe. You’ll be able to choose if you want emails with upcoming blog posts (now known as Molly Jo’s Journals), or just progress reports on my book(s) in progress. I know some of you subscribed when I was producing the Firsts in Fiction podcast, or running other projects.
There’s also a neat, new widget on my other site that lets you see how I’m tracking my word count progress for BLINDSPOT. Don’t judge if you don’t see the bar move too quickly. It is what it is.
So really, this post is just to remind you that I’m here. But I’m moving. And I hope you’ll move with me. But if you don’t, hey. No hard feelings. I promise.
As I haven’t posted for a long while, and as it’s a holiday for most, and as I’m typing this on my small iPhone instead of my laptop, I’ll keep it short and simple.
Times, they are a-changing.
I’ve been diligently working on, well, work. Of all kinds. Day job. Home front. Creatively. All the all’s.
And I’ve some great things happening so I hope y’all will stay connected.
But not everything changes. Or maybe, what’s old is new again. I’ve had writer’s block for months (evident by the lack of blog posts) and so two nights ago I rearranged some furniture and now I have better access to my old writing desk. You know, the one from California. The one I wrote NOLA on. The one that will someday be in my museum. Yeah. That one. Well I set it up almost like it was in CA and darned if that didn’t do the trick.
Well, it’s time for me to head out into the world. Look for a post in the next day or so with some of those changes I’m hinting about.
Until then,
Come alive, stay wild.
And always, savor the journey.
Blessings,
Molly Jo
Oh! Forgot to mention. Firsts in Fiction is now on Instagram. Follow us for your first stop to writing fantastic fiction!
A Brief History of My First Year as a Southerner (Or, An Interesting Thing Happened on the Way to Being Me)
Dear Yumi,
It’s been a while since we talked, and I’ve no one to blame but myself. I know, you keep telling me it’s okay to share the little stories, but I didn’t really believe it. I thought you’d want only the grand, out-of-the-box stories.
Insert self-doubt here, amiright?
I mean, do you really want to know about the hideous date who blew a straw wrapper at me over dinner? Or how I’ve become addicted to sweet tea? Had to buy a storage ottoman (or two) to hold my many Happy Planners and accessories? Or what lingo I’ve learned in my new home territory?
You do? Well, okay, then. I’ll do my best to keep you updated.
Oh, right. That reminds me: You’ll be seeing some changes in the next few months. I’ve hinted at a few things. Starting with this: my new tagline.
COME ALIVE. STAY WILD.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : A Brief History of My First Year as a Southerner
Now, I know we humans have short attention spans that are getting shorter by the second (see what I did there?), so I’ll try to be brief. [I know, I’m laughing, too.]
My brother and I started a new tradition on the drive out here last year. We listened to Pet Sematary on Audible. I started it again this week. With the fog rolling in, the impended darkness, the changing leaves . . . It all lends itself to a Stephen King-esque feel that I adore.
I haven’t yet learned how to bake a pecan pie, but I have experienced the beauty of Biltmore, Ashville, and the overall culture and history here.
Let’s start with some of my favorite photo moments, shall we?
Who can forget the main reason I moved was to be closer to my writing community. It obviously helped:
NOLA by Molly Jo Realy now available. Click on the image to order.
But first, there was the moment I came home:
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Welcome Home.
I have a plethora of photos showing foggy backwoods, white, puffy clouds, and even last winter’s snow dusting. Then there’s the video of the moment April’s tornado formed just as it passed over my apartments while I was outside trying to capture the sound of the wind. Thankfully, the tornado didn’t touch down at my place, but I’ll never forget the increasing roar as it started. And the number of phone calls from my West Coasters who were watching the live radar and wanted to know I knew how to stay safe. [Note to self: Staying indoors is a start.]
Well, bless your heart.
That’s not always a blessing. I learned quickly the South has a polite way of cursing. I had to curb my California tongue on more than one occasion. While it can be taken as a praise or excitement, even a term of endearment, down here, “bless your heart” mostly means, “Well, aren’t you stupid and I’mma gonna pray for you.” Trust me. I’ve been blessed more times than I can count this first year.
After I caught on, a well-meaning stranger told me, “Oh, bless your heart.” To which I said, “Hey, I may be new to the area, but I know what that means!”
Earlier this month, I attended another Writing Academy. This one was near Seattle so I got to visit my daughter and her husband. They were both so very proud that I finally purchased my first-ever Vans shoes. I can finally admit, I now know what all the hullabaloo is about. #socomfortable
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Stay Wild: new Vans and a Winnie the Pooh Backpack
The South really does love fried chicken. I hopedthought perhaps it was a Hollywood-induced stereotype. It’s not. At. All. On almost every corner, on almost every street, you’ll find a Zaxby’s, Chik-fil-A, or Bojangles. And, while I love choices, there’s really only so many ways you fry the bird, right? You would think so. Doesn’t matter. You can find me at the Bo at least once a week, driving through to pick up my meal combo, and some extras for the fur fam.
Speaking of, yesterday was National Cat Day. The kids say hello.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Happy National Cat Day
Sweet Tea is more than just adding sugar packets to your glass. It’s a for-realz recipe. And I’m so glad it is.
Living in the Eastern Time Zone means I’m home before any major sporting events air on TV . . . but I’m also going to bed much later due to watching them til the very end.
The first sip of the annual Pumpkin Spice Latte is still always the best, no matter what state I’m in. Especially when accompanied by a slice of Pumpkin Loaf:
Frankly, My Dear . . . : The year’s first PSL from Starbucks
Of course, I’m feeding my Happy Planner addiction. Hey, This Girl has a business to run. And another novel to write. More recipes to create and curate. And a life to track. And, you know. A plan to come alive, stay wild, and be happy while doing so!
Frankly, My Dear . . . : My newest Happy Planners
There are tons of little stories I’ll be sharing, and I hope you’re excited to hear them.
Remember when you read, to add my new drawl to your inner voice. I mean, I am a Southerner now.
I was told a while back, since myself, my parents, grandparents, and great-grands were not born here, I can never be considered a true Southerner. To which I responded, “Well, bless your heart.”
Well, that’s all I have for tonight. The World Series Game Six is still going, and I can only hope by the time you read this, there will be a Game Seven. #GoNationals.
Remember, come alive and stay wild!
With a happy heart and plans for a sugar-filled life, Happy everything. Savor the journey, ~Molly Jo
And Frankly, My Dear . . . : That’s all she wrote!
Molly Jo is better known as the Bohemian Hurricane. She is the author/curator of The Unemployment Cookbook and several eBooks available on Amazon. Her debut novel, NOLA, is a romantic mystery novel set in New Orleans, and the first in her City Series.
Come Alive and Stay Wild! (Or, How a Missing FedEx and Crazy Hair Put Me Back on Track)
I was out with my girlfriends a few weeks ago, doing what we do. Eating. Talking. Planning. Shopping. Crafting. You know how we do.
So it wasn’t unusual when we hit up the craft store(s). That’s when the Bestie, the Seester and I parted ways to each conquer our own areas. We rallied at the checkout and I was reminded, by the incredibly huge bin of impulse-buy-me-now Ty Beanie stuffies, of how, for a while, I bought a new one each month and related it back to writing, social media, and marketing.
Frankly, My Dear . . . Come Alive and Stay Wild!
The Seester suggested I get a new one, seeing as how I’m relaunching the blog, being a published author and whatnot. Except *gasp* *gulp*. She held up a, a … I can’t say it. No, wait. Yes. You must know. A glittery unicorn. Unicorn. With glitter. I mean … just. NO.
I had to explain to her how I don’t do unicorns. Like, ever. (Cue Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Getting Back Together.”) But then, like a bad Taylor Swift lifestyle report, I turned around and there he was. This cute little lionicorn. At least, that’s what I call it him. For realz. But that… that horn. Ugh. Suck it up, girl. He ain’t that ugly.
Really, it was the crazy hair that got me.
So, this little crazy-haired lionicorn thing that adopted me at the third craft store of the day became my bag buddy and found his way to work with me the next day. I told my friend Knitting Nancy (okay, I know. She doesn’t knit, she crochets. But that sounds less poetic.) all about it and she named him. Right there. On the spot.
“His name is Wild.”
And I had to agree with her.
But wait, there’s more.
I mean, of course there is. ‘Cause I can tell y’all about the cute lionicorn Wild, but is that really the end of the story? If you have to ask, it’s like you don’t know me at all.
Cue the intro music.
I may have also indulged in a little Labor Day Happy Planner online sales event. And, long story short–Ha! Like I could do that! I tried to tell a short story once, but since I was speaking and not typing I couldn’t edit myself so this SS, as I like to identify them, came out in waves of interruptions and misdirections and … Oh. Right. The planner story. Sorry. #rabbithole
Well, I ordered some great Happy Planner gear to start the next year with, but it never arrived. Even when FedEx said it would. So I called and spoke to a woman named Iris. I remember her name because that’s the name of my cat. [Sidenote, y’all: Pray for Iris (the cat, not the person. Although the person may appreciate prayers, too. I dunno.). My Iris Cat is in a downhill health slide and I’m not certain what else to do as we’ve been to the vet three times in two months. Also, Thanksgiving is coming up and we all know my beloved felines tend to go Home on Thanksgiving weekend. Oops. That was another rabbit hole, wasn’t it? And my name’s not Peter Cottontail.]
SO.HAPPY PLANNER UPDATE: Iris the Person issued a second shipment with the apology that my first Planner was on backorder so she instead sent one of her personal favorites and hoped I would enjoy it.
GUESS. WHAT.
The cover states “STAY WILD.” Folks, I can’t make this stuff up! I mean, I could. But I don’t have to. Because it really happened!
Frankly, My Dear . . . Come Alive and Stay Wild!
And the last corner of this triangle of a story is that during the Girlfriends Outing (see Paragraph One above for details), we were also talking about our words/phrases/taglines for next year. Oh, don’t you pooh-pooh me (Yes, I know I spelled it like the bear, not the dung. That was on purpose!). You all know that each year a mantra of sorts finds it way to each of us as our yearly focus. The Seester has hers. The Bestie has options.
For this year, I chose Come Alive. But I chose it late in the year, and did little with it. Except what I did, how I took it to heart, what it means to me (complete with Hugh Jackman singing in The Greatest Showman); I want to keep it going. It’s not just a yearly mantra. It’s me. But what to add to it?
I had nothing. Nothing. Until Wild. And Happy Planners. And then, like a glorious Snickers bar collision with a glass of milk. Like thunder that answers the lightning. Like powdered sugar on a beignet, I have my mantra for 2020.
Come Alive and Stay Wild.
Betcha didn’t see that one coming, didya?
And with that, I present to you, the relaunching of Frankly, My Dear . . . the blog.
Would you like to win a $25 gift card to Michaels Arts & Crafts to buy your own Happy Planner? Leave a comment and tell me what your favorite friendship moments look like. [$25 Gift Card to Michaels will be awarded to one random winner from all qualified entry comments on or before October 5, 2019. Winner will have 48 hours to respond to email to claim prize, or prize will be forfeited and another winner selected.]
With a wild heart and a planning page, Come alive. Stay wild. And always, Savor the journey. ~M.
And Frankly, My Dear . . . That’s all she wrote!
P.S.: Check out this official video from Fox Entertainment to see Hugh Jackson sing “Come Alive” in The Greatest Showman.
I’ve been hiding. No, that’s not true. I’ve really been working double-time finishing up the edits/audio proofs for NOLA on Audible. That’s been a great experience, and I’ll tell you the process in a different post.
Tonight I want to let you in on a little secret:
I’m starting over.
Yup. That’s right. But, no. It’s wrong.
I’m not rehashing everything. Just some things. I’m going to relaunch the FMD Blog just in time for the holidays. (Who else has already enjoyed Pumpkin Spice Lattes?)
I’m also taking a few weeks to update my main website and storefront page.
In any event, this post is just to get back in your good graces (and email inboxes).
We can both look forward to more recipes, crafts, Faith posts, and more. All from a Southern writer’s perspective, of course.
For now, I’d like to know what you want to read more about. Do you like the arts and crafts? Holiday stories? Recipes? All of the above. There’s a good possibility I’ll recycle some old posts, and delete others. Please leave me a comment. I really look forward to hearing from you.
Because everything old is new again.
And it’s time to celebrate.
Les laissez bon temps rouler, mais cher. Let the good times roll, my loves.
