Home

Bippity Boppity Boop

I walk at a sixteen-minute pace, my heavy winter coat plunked by the hood on my head, as though I’m the coat rack.…

You Lead, I’ll Follow

One problem I need to solve for my book is the hook. A hook is the thing a reader is actually reaching for…

When Repetition Builds

It’s 1.15 miles to town. I came up with that number last week, and with my Apple Watch on Exercise mode, I confirmed…

How I Outsmart Resistance

Why in the hickity heck did I create this goal for myself? To write. Every day. When I’m not in the mood. When…

Sinners Be Sinning

I only watched 15 seconds of the opening monologue in the movie “Sinners”, and I’m invested. I can’t do two things at once…

Letting the Road Decide (Book Part 38)

Previous Leaving Fargo, I had run out of options. Not the logistical kind—the deeper ones. The tricks I’d relied on were spent: the…

The Possibilities of Us

I’m sneaking up on writing in my book. I could be writing in it tonight, but my excuse — and maybe a good…

The Darkness and the Light

I need a writing group. A small one. Is a duo — myself and one other — considered a group? Yes. The definition…

Here Kitty Kitty

I’m in a “do the bare minimum” mood. Except when it comes to refreshing the house — there, I’m kicking dust bunnies’ butts.…

Unbreaking My Heart

I told Dave I needed him today — another small step of my feet inching toward security in another person, toward trust, toward…

A Day in Pictures

When I Think About You I Trust Myself

Every so often, I seek a teacher — preferably spiritual or philosophical — to swaddle me in the cushiony comfort of the inner…

How Close is Too Close

Damn, that Market Spice tea from Pike Place in Seattle is good. I’m not a fan of the cost, but semi-sweetened with orange…

Whittling Wood

It’s a cold day for a birthday. Being the house person I am, I stayed inside — working, helping Evelyn with her upper-…

Another Trip ‘Round

Every so often, vulnerability in writing swirls together with a checked-out, ennui kind of feeling. It’s a blizzard. I’m less interested in the…

Pink Pony Bath Bomb

I am in a bathtub filled with unicorn pee.Or strawberry Skittles vomit.The water is pink. Yesterday’s bath bomb experience—courtesy of a cross-country gift…

A Stroll For the Soul

I’ve taken it upon myself to be our family’s concierge for our upcoming Disney World vacation. I am no expert. I do, however,…

Right on Time

Is it possible to be kicking life’s ass while, at the same time, feeling like it’s kicking yours? If so, clip my ticket.…

Operation: Toes, Treadmills, and Self-Control

Par for the course, I don’t know what to write about. That doesn’t stop me—nay, I must slay this beast. But the mental…

It’s A New Car!

I’m hungry. Semi-tired. And doing an abysmally poor job of convincing Dave that we need a brand-new car. Perhaps I’m actually just procrastinating…

A Moth at the Window

I write to get ahead of my thinking. Thinking tricks me. It reverse-engineers what’s true. It’s the white-van man with oversized lollipops saying,…

Noticeably Unnoticeable

I’m in my head, eking through thoughts about what to write. A welcome guest kneels beside me, pointing out page after page of…

To My Loyal Listeners

Damn, I’m inspired. An author like Stephen Graham Jones doesn’t cross my eyes every day, and because he did, I want to write…

The Sweet Potato Pendulum

It’s late. Close to bedtime. And my stomach is growling. One might think inserting food is the answer, but it’s not. Instead, I’m…

New Hunger Awakening

For hours now, I’ve had most of a rotisserie chicken lightly boiling over the gas stove. I’ve added two saucepans full of water…

When Things Fall Into Place

Inspiration floods in like an atmospheric river in the Pacific Northwest. Never heard of an atmospheric river? Me either. But once you hear…

A Mouth Watering Post

I’ve moved the yoga mat, the balance ball, and push-up grips into the bedroom. Oh—and a 6’ tall, 4’ wide mirror. I’d described…

Onward Forward

We’re onto 2026. I’m ready! Buckle up. Love Jaclynn

Better Late Than Never

It’s 3am on the day before the new year. The cross country flight home went well, and now I need sleep. See you…

“Feminist,” As An Accusation

“You’re a feminist.” The text from my cousin landed with a thud—damning, like a shameful Scarlet Letter pinned to my chest. I knew…

A Quiet Tyranny: Meditating on Dostoevsky’s Work

It’s nearing the year’s end, and my mind is a blizzard of ideas and hopes for the new year. I flirted with the…

Inhabiting Ourselves: Kierkegaard’s Philosophy

As I’ve done for the past four days, I googled Søren Kierkegaard’s philosophy. He writes: “Of all ridiculous things, the most ridiculous seems…

Sticking with Kierkegaard

Philosophical questions—and sitting with their meaning—are a priority for me as I look toward 2026. Regardless of a philosopher’s religious or ethical beliefs…

A Walk in the Woods

I pick up my phone. It’s already set to take a photo. I half-watch the scene I want to capture come into view…

Noodling on the New Year

Around the corner is 2026, and with it the familiar knock of resolutions—polite at first, then increasingly insistent. They ask what you will…

Wild Hearts Can’t Be Broken

At times, I don’t recognize myself. Not physically—the face staring back in the mirror is mine—but emotionally. I feel like a bullheaded donkey,…

Meeting Your Eye

You don’t know what you want from me. Writing authentically means I don’t care about you. But I care about you. Isn’t that…

Santa Boat 2025

Unbelievably fun night with family and friends. Love, Jaclynn

I Tried

“You’re going to bed?” Dave said, moments after I stood and announced a general goodnight to the room. “Before your daughter?” he added,…

Rrrrrr Matey

I’m too tired to write. Today was a long, lovely blur of jigsaw-puzzling Santa Claus and kitty cats, visiting my friend Kristen, dressing…

Understanding Can Wait

I met Jakob. He’s a big, bad troll with endearingly prominent toes and fingernails, caught mid-lounging, casually gripping the two trees that flank…

The Airport Roll of Shame

I monitor the pitch-and-roll gauge on the seatback screen in front of me. I’m impressed with Delta’s “command center” data screen—specifically the 510–530…

When the Number Isn’t 100%

All my devices—Kindle, phone, laptop, headphones, iPad, and iPad stencil—are at maximum battery capacity. Their chargers are neatly coiled in a billfold-sized makeup…

A Quiet Kind of Care

Years ago, I wrote a letter to myself from my future self. It’s handwritten and folded up to the size of a notecard.…

Pretend I’m the Best

It’s December 13th. As Santa does last minute check and balance of the naughty and nice list and stuffs Donner and Blitzen with…

Sticky As Hell

I mimic other writers’ styles. I take a mini-challenge to the page, their a caricature propped on my shoulder, and I ask, What…

A Masterful Woman

I had a cool story to share, but I forgot it somewhere between driving three laps through a festive country-home yard’s Christmas lights,…

Internal Weather Patterns

This morning’s session was about a line—a boundary between when something genuinely needs addressing and when we’re slipping into unnecessary drama. We separated…

That Dern Ol’ Cabin

How hard it is to sit and be quiet for even a moment. Evelyn doesn’t know where to put a toy, Dave’s asking…

An Unreasonable Person

I’m rooting for Georgia in the SEC Championship football game. I don’t feel bad about it either. UW has always been my college…

Writing the Sweet Stuff

Not always, but authenticity is frequently the most important bullseye to me when writing. However, instead of target shooting out back for fun,…

A Christmas Miracle

Ding dong. The doorbell rang. I wasn’t expecting anyone, so it was a pleasant surprise to see the gentleman who left his wood…

Smooth As A Baby’s Bottom

Inside me, it’s pre-boiling time. Small bubbles form, and a beehive of activity buzzes. Anticipation. Of returning home. Home that feels like a…

Bananas Gone Wild

Life is often boring. So boring that our casual greetings, instead of “good” or “fine,” become “same ol’ same ol’” and “same shit,…

Forgiveness: The Plate I Want to Throw

I cannot wrap my head around forgiveness—it’s the letting-go, non-attachment, monk-in-lotus-position vibe that makes my brain back up like a men’s toilet on…

Prisoner of the Past

Last night, I got stuck because my thoughts have trap doors. And I’m fairly certain I’m not the only one who barely escapes…

Social Media Shakeup

Should I stop—wait, not should, but when should I stop social media? Yesterday? Back when Myspace came out, twenty years ago. More and…

The Truest Love: A Poem

We have a love like that—the kind from movies,from the ages. It’s me at my lowestand you’re there. It’s two people fighting for…

Loving What It Is

Deciding what to focus on is half the battle. Social events Stretch-Armstrong me. I should be at the dining table with everyone. I…

Dear Journal,

I’m 43. That number seems big, small, and just right. I’m in pajama bottoms at 4 p.m. on a Wednesday. That has a…

Gonna Make You Sweat

You’ve walked in on me mid-conversation with myself. If you don’t mind, take a seat—I’ll be right with you. Why is it that…

A Comfort-Obsessed Society

Efficiency is the operating premise for the virus in the show Pluribus we’re watching on Apple TV. It’s fascinating to see how their…

Regulars at Inner AA

All the different parts of me—Perfectionist, Competitive, Obsessive, Paranoid—show up like regulars bursting through the glass doors, late for the 7:00 AA meeting.…

Reading the Room

Seated in Woodland Coffee Roasters and Café, the chill of the air conditioning has Evelyn huddled against her dad while they stand in…

Simply Spinning Globes

Frank Sinatra, Journey, and CCR’s Cosmo’s Factory vinyl records took a spin mid-morning today. I must have the earth on the brain. With…

Domestic Olympics

With 45 minutes left until my noon session, I talk aloud to myself. “Ok, if we take ten minutes on each room—kitchen, living,…

Unremarkable Presents

I’m wondering if the Remarkable 2 digital notepad is the perfect Christmas gift for me. Plusses: it would be my all-in-one writing spot,…

Doggedly In My Own Corner

That last one—the relationship with myself—matters the most. And it’s my ambiguity about how to do that that leaves me susceptible to disconnection.…

Under the Weather

There’s pressure behind my eyes. Heavy, pulsing on either side of my eyebrows. This sickness hit me from behind—midnight bedtime: healthy. One hour…

Sabattical

I baked a three-tiered confetti cake from scratch for Evelyn’s family birthday party tomorrow. And because I’m the chef and lick everything, I…

The Need For Love

I’ve become too much like a stenographer in my writing. I bore myself. “I did X,” I write Y. In math lingo, it’s…

Setting the Stage: A Poem

The slip of a toe from the pedal, the momentum lost—bodies pushed forward, then backward into their padded rests. It’s this ebb and…

Overcooked Parenting

Evelyn took the video game controller out of my hands and replaced it with her own.“We’re swapping, that way you can’t yell at…

Freezing Burglar Tracks

Last Week Tonight with John Oliver’s opening credits are running in the background—or maybe it’s this writing that will get buried behind the…

Unbearable Heaviness

In 1998, if you’d told me I’d point my phone’s camera at the TV to “log in,” I would’ve asked if you also…

The Gentle Leash of Love

With a purple, tear-shaped pick pinched between my thumb and the outer middle knuckle of my pointer finger, I strum. My shoulder and…

We Be Jammin’

Moving an image, video, or text an inch to the left, right, up, or down—repeated a thousand times—is the biggest time suck, and…

Tears On My Pillow

A heart-pounding headache and a little Love Is Blind have kept me from writing.Actually, I have kept me from writing. I thought if…

Space Jammin’ Season

It’s settled. Instead of plopping my butt down and filling cupped hands to the brim with acorn clusters, I’m buying a—wait. I watched…

The Sweetness of Not Knowing Better

I thrust my hand into my pocket—into my cheetah-print, thick and soft sweater with large hanging front pockets like Grandpa’s robe. It felt…

Seeing Saturn Clearly

Unfortunately, I cared about being cool. Calvin Klein and Doc Martens swaggered their denims and waffle-shaped soles across the maroon-and-yellow-speckled floors of my…

Falling Into Fall

Anna, Lori, Melissa, and I met at noon at Fogata’s Street Tacos for book club. Since I’d chosen The Godfather, I also got…

Bunkering For Fall

I’m picking up my crystal ball, looking at a past moment, and my body’s showing the score. A quickness in my chest, the…

Supernatural Design

When there’s no one else around, I perform supernatural acts. Never when they’re watching—always right after their head turns. Earlier, I tipped the…

Hulk Hoganing Mayonnaise

It happened. I lost my Enter key. For months, it hung on by a teensy hinge that, multiple times a day, I had…

Realizing the Real

In noticing countries confused with cities and cities confused with America, I knew it was time to step in and help Evelyn with…

Stroke By Stroke

My second favorite plant is peeking over the top of my laptop. Two leaves of a mustard green with white-gray spots tremble as…

Macaroni-Sized Frog Droppings

Standing in front of our paused 65-inch TV, I begin painting a scene for two little girls having a sleepover. The portrait features…

Parents Do Cry

I analyze my writing chops and determine they’re good. Maybe too good, I think, quickly scanning the first few sentences of Reedsy’s past…

Before the Habit, There’s an Identity

I’ve read Atomic Habits twice—once in English and once in Spanish. I love it. The author’s ability to break habits (wanted or unwanted)…

The Entry Point

This is the second part to my writing contest entry. If you didn’t read yesterday’s post, start there. Thanks! There’s a sauna-like breath…

It Could Just Be The Wind

At the tail end of my to-do someday list is to enter writing contests. Not today, and likely not tomorrow, but someday. The…