Oct 13, 2015 |
So y’all know I hang with Aaron Gansky and associates, right? I mean, who could forget when Aaron, Beckie and I flew out to Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference a few months ago? [Read: And They Say Getting There is Half the Fun . . . ]

The Three Writing Amigos. . . and a Photobombing Flight Attendant
Long before the trip, I started running Aaron’s social media in exchange for his writing mentoring. Not a bad trade, eh? It has the added bonus of hanging with his family at least once a month when we play Magic The Gathering and eat food.
And, well, IÂ am a social person. I know, I know . . . you’re shocked by this admission. What can I say? Not everyone is, however. Which makes me a great fit for Aaron’s social media ninja.

How To Do Social Media For People Who Are Antisocial
Yup. That’s a thing I’m working on. It was going to be a blog post. Then it evolved into a presentation. It’s been translated into workshops and now it’s growing up into it’s very own book. I’m so proud of my antisocial baby!
Ah, but back to the task at hand. Working for Aaron has its perks. Like pizza. Did I mention the pizza?

The Biltmore Pizza, Asheville Brewing Co.
So here’s how it all ties in together. I’m earning my way back to next year’s BRMCWC and more Biltmore pizza on my plate. See what I did there? Yeah, Naomi and Aaron are always mentioning how much I have on my plate, and how a great portion of it is his social media. But if it gets me more pizza, I’m so ready for more plates. Fine bone china, blue pattern, if you please.
I’ll take on as many plates as I can manage, if it means I’m being well fed. And let’s face it: Being well fed includes food for the body, the soul, and the creative part as well, yes?
So let me introduce you to Aaron’s Firsts in Fiction weekly podcast. Every Tuesday at 6:30 PM PST, we gather ’round the computer monitor and tell tales. Okay, sort of. We do meet at 6:30. Aaron and his dad, Al Gansky, interview guests on a live video feed while I facilitate the chat room. We cover all fiction-related topics from writing to editing to promoting to contests to favorite endings to overcoming writer’s block to . . . you get the picture.
I’m sort of a chatty cathy and I guess they picked up on that, because last month they made me official PRODUCER of the podcast. So not much has changed in what I do, just how I do it. Now I’m privy to early behind-the-scenes discussions. I get to video-meet our guests and do my ninja magic on air.
If you’ve seen the podcast recently (and by recently, I mean the last three weeks), you’ve also seen me looking at my phone a lot. No, I’m not bored. I’m tweeting. Sharing. Linking. Liking. Getting whatever visibility I can for the #podcast.
And then it dawned on me. DUH. I did. I literally said, “DUH.” To no one but the cats, but that’s another story and I’m sure Lizzie Cat will tell you all about when her computer privileges are restored. So anyway, I said DUH and figured, why not let my own peeps in on the fun?
All you have to do is follow Firsts in Fiction on GooglePlus and join the chat each Tuesday.
Which happens to be today. Huh. That worked out favorably, didn’t it?
Oh, and tonight’s guests? Bill Myers and Angela Hunt. Two of Al’s three writing partners for the Harbingers series. [Check out Al’s newest part, The Fog, at Amazon.]
So if you’re interested in writing, are a fan of Harbingers, or just like to hang out, you know where to find us. I’d love to meet you in the chat room. Let’s put some more pizza on that plate, okay?
And Frankly, My Dear . . . that’s all she wrote!
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Oct 5, 2015 |
Last month, I took Ursula to the shop. She’d not been driving right for a while but like a person without health insurance (hey, even in this day and age, it happens), we postponed the mechanic’s diagnosis until I was afraid the visit would be more of an emergency than a check up.

Diagnosis, please.
I was wonderfully surprised, then, when the call came that Ursula could come home with nothing more than a fluid flush and new power steering fluid reservoir. Sure, it wasn’t the band-aid price I was hoping for, but it was still a lot cheaper than, say, a transmission overhaul.
I was impressed with how much better she ran in such short a time. What had I been afraid of? She didn’t look any different, but boy, howdy! does this baby drive better. A little time, a little investment, and my nearly ten-year-old car received that much desired mechanic’s statement, “You have an excellent car.”
It right there and then squashed my desire to purchase a Chevy Equinox (although I wouldn’t turn one down as a gift. Just sayin’.).
Does that ever happen to you? You think you need a replacement, when all you need is a check up? A little look under the hood, a little TLC to get things back on track? Yeah. So, we’re not gonna count how often that happens to me, okay? Let’s just say this once was the trigger for something else.
I’ve been pretty disorganized for a while now. Pretty afraid to get into the dirt; afraid I might not make it out alive. I’ve been pretty chaotic now and then. At home, with the editing, with the writing. My peeps are always telling me I have too much on my plate. Aaron’s always offering to get me a new plate. Go figure.

MoJo Chaos
In the back of my mind, I knew how to get things straight, but couldn’t make the leap. Happily, it happened a few weeks ago. One thing led to another and instead of rabbit-holing into more chaos, I discovered the one puzzle piece I needed to fit the others around.
It all started with moving my treasured cedar chest into the living room, and moving the computer desk out. I’ve designated about forty square feet in my living room as my writing space. There’s my writing desk and chair, reading chair, rug, bookshelf. I’m set.

MoJo Writes
I was inspired. As soon as the living room and writing space were complete, I realized how easy it would be to finally conquer the room that shan’t be opened the room formerly known as Dot’s. It’s been closed off since she left in February. Until now, I’d not been able to bring myself to go in there and clean it out. Sure, she took care of most of it before she left. But I couldn’t go into that half-empty room and face the reality that my daughter moved out and I was alone.
I could, however, face the reality that I had an extra room in my house to fix up the way I wanted. And that’s what I clung to. I opened the door, surveyed the not-so-messy mess, and got to work. With Mom’s help, in just two days, the Narnia Spar Oom and the room now known as the Peacock Room are in order. One is my library. The other is my crafting/activity/game room. The changes are subtle, but empowering.
So naturally it doesn’t stop there.
I’ve been controlling more of my schedule instead of letting things flow. This has opened doors for me to take on new projects and clients, as well as continue the work I’m already doing. Writing. Editing. Social Media. I can do it all, and do more of it, now that I’m organized physically and mentally.
But then there’s this.
I’d been unhappy with the Blog for a while now. Frustrated. And for the better part of three weeks, it wasn’t working right. I couldn’t post. I thought about just giving up and going with a whole new blog. Is this a midlife crisis about to happen? All this let-go-and-move-on-to-something-new way of thinking? Let’s hope not.
With guidance from my webmaster, I decided to take a look under the hood. I spent all of last weekend streamlining pages and categories and fixing photos. That’s no joke. 834 posts. A crazy amount of tags and miscellaneous input. After several restless months and seriously thinking of a change, I like love LOVE Frankly, My Dear . . . and don’t want to leave it.
Remember this?

Field of Dreams
When my webmaster revamped FMD a few years ago, the response was staggeringly favorable.
And my looking under the hood this weekend brought back that original excitement. I like what we’re doing here. All we needed was a little check up.
So look up at the top menu. You’ll see new Page tabs, and new categories. We’re moving forward, but that doesn’t mean we’re moving. Just like cleaning up Dot’s room, a few things moved to storage. You can search “archived” for all the older, unrelated posts. Everything else has been reviewed and retagged for easier finding. There are a few new sections, too.
Sure, it doesn’t look much different. A little spit and polish is all. But the work under the hood? That makes all the difference in the world.
I hope you’ll stick around for another five years. And more. After all, it’s not the destination, it’s the journey. Am I right?

Keep moving.
And Frankly, My Dear . . . that’s all she wrote!
Jul 20, 2015 |
Dear Reader,
We’ve been through a lot, you and I. You’ve read from the beginning when Frankly, My Dear . . . started out as a diary of a sort of social experiment, then grew.

Blank Pages are the World’s Canvas
First I learned to crawl, then walk, and threw in with some nifty vocabulary lessons.
It’s been over four years of fun, drama, food, family, life, death, everything and nothing. And y’all have stuck with me like melted cheese on a hot spoon.
You’ve been there as I started New Inklings Press. You supported my fundraising for The Unemployment Cookbook and #MoJoDoingTheWriteThing.
You’ve been the sweet to my tea.

How refreshing!
How can I thank you?
This week, my Kindle books are free. Not all at the same time, so you’ll want to check my Amazon Author Page daily. It my way of giving back for all the support y’all have given me.
Now here’s the favor. And this in no way is a tit-for-tat situation. You can take the freebies without obligation. I promise.
But it’d be awful sweet if you could leave a review of any of my books on Amazon. As a boutique, small-town, digital book publisher, my marketing consists of me passing out business cards at conferences and telling others by word of mouth.

Field of Dreams
If you’ve read something that’s touched you, made a recipe that brought your family together, or enjoyed some quiet time while reading one or more of my books, I’d sure appreciate the shout-out.
If you have any suggestions on how to make them better, a question or a thought on something that just doesn’t sit right, well I’d welcome that feedback, too.
I hope to continue this journey with you, and prove myself trustworthy of the time you’re taking to spread the word about my books.
Invaluably yours,
~Molly Jo

I’m seeing ya.
And Frankly, My Dear . . . that’s all she wrote!
Jun 11, 2015 |
So this happened.

Shake Your Tail Feather
And then this happened.

Jamberry Mother’s Day Ruby & Rose Set
So then this happened.

JamWithMojo – Jamberry Consultant
In upcoming posts, I’ll blog about my love for Jamberry Nail Wraps and post new design combinations. I hope you’ll join me.
After two months of buying product, I realized it’s more frugal for me to sell it and support my own habit. So I signed on. My online launch party starts tomorrow, and it’s going to be super fun.
It’s my goal to use this income boost to cover my future writing and travel needs. After all, all roads lead to writing, right?
Right now it’s well after midnight and I’m tired. My jammy nails and I are hitting the hay.
Would love for you to stop by my JamWithMojo page and check it out. And if you’re interested in ordering, how’s this for an incentive?

Jamberry Buy 3 Get 1 Free!
Here’s a question: what’s your favorite design?
And Frankly, My Dear . . . that’s all she wrote!
May 23, 2015 |

There’s Nothing Like Coming Home. . .
North Carolina is full of rocking chairs and a Mayberry-esque lifestyle. There are rocking chairs in the airports, and there are rocking chairs in the restaurants. In the restaurants, people! I ain’t making this stuff up.

North Carolina Rocking Chairs are Everywhere!
I want to live there. I want to drink more sweet tea and say “y’all” and “honey, sugar” to strangers and call my friends “Sweet Potato” and rock on a front porch as the rain patters down. I want to live in Blue Ridge.
Unfortunately, Blue Ridge is an event, not a place. Well, it’s both, but when it’s not an event, it can get kind of lonely. Kind of, this-hallway-belongs-in-Stephen-King’s-The-Shining lonely (thanks for that thought process, Beckie).
Which could be pretty hard on This Girl who fills the love-tank with social interaction. I do not care (said with my newly adopted Southe’n accent) I do not care if you are male, female, black, white, cat, dog (scratch that. I care. I don’t like dogs). . . my point is, people is people, people! And when you’re in a place surrounded not only by people, but by people who understand, who help, who encourage, who laugh, cry, scream, giggle, play games, eat dinner . . . People who get you. . . how can it not be home?
In my life, I have felt alone, abandoned, worthless, a failure, confused, out of place, neglected, misunderstood, incomplete.
When I set foot on Ridgecrest, those insecurities left me. Completely, for six whole days, I was pushed smack-dab into what I can only describe as an immersion program for Christian writers.
Attending Blue Ridge wasn’t about making new friends.
It was about finding family I didn’t know I had.
Is it no surprise how I cried from loneliness when the plane landed in Las Vegas? Or when I thought of Sweet Cara and how it will be a year before I see my new sister again? Or (better), when I claim my place into this family of God’s children?
I’m sitting in my recliner at Bedford Manor now. Everything’s the way I left it. The cats are dozing. The house is quiet. But my soul is restless.
I long to go back to Blue Ridge. To find my own little parcel of land and put a rocking chair on it and say, “This is mine! This corner of the world, these people, this experience. . . This is mine.”
But I also long to stay here. To work at making Bedford Manor my home for as long as the Lord wants me to. I’m ready to get moving for the Lord, but that doesn’t mean I have to move.
In fact, through Blue Ridge, He has called me to be a spring in the desert. [Isaiah 43:19]. And I’m ready to do that, because that’s what He’s asking.
![My Little Plot of Desert, Where I Will Be a Spring [Isaiah 43:19]](https://i0.wp.com/franklymydearmojo.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/IMG_7809.jpg?resize=584%2C778)
My Little Plot of Desert, Where I Will Be a Spring [Isaiah 43:19]
I am about to do a new thing;
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
and rivers in the desert.
[Isaiah 43:19, NRSV]
I imagine as the days take me further from my first Blue Ridge experience, this painful longing to go back will lesson, but only for a short time. Because then I’ll be filled with the drive to return next year, and this desire will push me to do all I can to accomplish that goal. I’ll work harder than I have at becoming the writer and speaker He has made me to be.
I’m okay with this kind of pain: The pain that pushes me forward, the longing that makes me reach beyond myself.
I am not perfect. But at Blue Ridge, I am perfectly me.
I can’t wait to go back, and move forward.
And Frankly, My Dear . . . that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
And They Say Getting There is Half the Fun . . .
My Two-Inch Peacock
Stop Fighting and Be Still.