Showing posts with label jen singer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jen singer. Show all posts

Saturday, April 04, 2009

Stop second guessing yourself! (Sane advice for writers and moms from Jen Singer)


I flipped Jen Singer a message yesterday: "How goes the book launch?"

"Agonizing and thrilling," Jen responded. "You know. The usual."

Jen is one of the sanest writers I know. She has to be. She's a mom, dispensing sane mommy advice via her website, MommaSaid.net, her Good Housekeeeping blog, and a multi-book deal with "Chicken Soup" publisher HCI. Her first book, You're a Good Mom, came out last year and was anything but the usual thrill ride.

"I’d met my editor, Allison Janse, from HCI at BEA just days before I was diagnosed with lymphoma," says Jen. "We were all aglow from our pending deal, with hugs all around. Well, no hugs because I had 'pneumonia,' which was really a 15 cm tumor in my lung. But I didn’t know that when I was at BEA."

When Jen was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma (a virulent blood cancer) and started chemo, she was still waiting on the contract for the three-book deal, but HCI stepped up and signed the deal anyway.

"I immediately burst into tears. When my oncology nurse asked me what was wrong, I told her how relieved and happy I was that the book deal was still going through. She decided that we’d celebrate with Haagen Dazs chocolate covered ice cream pops, and popped out to the store to get some. Immediately, I became addicted to these pops. Throughout my chemo and radiation treatments, I ate one, sometimes two each day."

Now, sixteen months into remission, Jen's finished writing all three books, and the first of the series, Stop Second-Guessing Yourself, came out this week. ("But I’m still working off the #@*! ice cream!" Jen adds.) Stop Second-Guessing Yourself offers the big picture on parenting toddlers in a way readers have never seen before. Anyone who's been there knows those toddler years are never what you expected when you were expecting. Skimming through Jens always-a-delight-to-read writing, I nodded a lot (and laughed a lot) and realized a lot of this common sense advice actually applies to the publishing industry...

The Major Meltdown: "The best way to deal with a tantruming toddler is to get the heck out of wherever you are and don't look back...It's the only way your toddler will learn that his manipulative superpowers have no effect on you."
(Having heard tales of woe from all sides, I know for a fact that editors, agents, and writers all have their moments. Getting on the diva bus only encourages it to make more regularly scheduled stops.)

How to Host a Playdate/Playgroup without Ticking Anyone Off: "Here's the dirty little secret about playdates: it's more about the mommies than anyone else. Don't be fooled into thinking you can sink into a comfy chair with your coffee and dish for an hour or two. Your parenting skills are on display and under scrutiny."
(Apply this dynamic to industry cocktail parties, signings, lunches, and "casual" meet 'n' greets.)

When Your Toddler is Jealous: "One day, your toddler is the center of attention and the reason for everything that happens in the house. The next, there's a new baby in the house, and everyone is oohing and aahing and ignoring your poor toddler, who probably feels like she's been knocked off of American Idol by some up-and-coming, no-good, talentless singer who seemed to come out of nowhere."
(Do I even need to connect the dots here?)

Beyond Blue's Clues--Entertaining Your Toddler: "As a full-time stay-at-home mom, I learned how to fill upward of 100 hours a week, some of it with entertaining and even educational activities, some of it with letting my toddlers pull all of the tissues out of the box and then stuff them back in. Did I mention it was 100 hours a week?"
(Have you noticed how that every WIP expands to fill the time allotted to it? See Colleen's "Fun Factor(y)" post yesterday.)

Whiiiiiiiiines: "Whining is your toddler's way of manipulating you into doing what she wants you to do. If you let her get away with it now because she's 'just a baby,' picture yourself at the mall in ten years trying to explain to your whining tween why she can't have a skin-tight T-shirt that reads: 'Is it hot in here or is it me?'"
(Trying to get what they want is in the job description of everyone at the negotiating table. Set your boundaries, gird your loins, and stand firm.)

It is important to remember: "You are not the only one going through it, no matter how lonely it feels at times."
(Self-explanatory.)

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Jen Singer's You're a Good Mom (Best baby shower gift since valium!)


I'm making an effort to work through a list of books I've been wanting to blog about, and the selection of the Republican running mate pushed this one to the top of my list: You're a Good Mom (and Your Kids Aren't So Bad Either) by Jen Singer, creator of the popular parenting site MamaSaid.net, "where moms like you can get some laughs and validation while your kids find new places to leave crumbs." (She also writes the Good Grief! blog about parenting tweens for GoodHousekeeping.com.) I read this book on an airplane a couple months ago and absolutely loved this girl's chatty, you-gotta-laugh style. And I thought about it again when people started dredging up a bunch of tired old crap about "mommy wars", which stuffs women into boxes labeled "Working Moms" (condemned as uncaring Lady Macbeth types) and "Stay-at-Home Moms" (harshly judged as lazy slobs.) For a culture that so horrendously underpays our teachers, we certainly have a lot of people claiming that their political agenda is for the good of children.

So what is a good mom? Is it politically incorrect to say that one kind of parenting is better than another? And for the love of sweet baby Jesus, can't we all just get along? Jen Singer's take on all this is refreshing, lighthearted, loving, and immanently pragmatic.

From the press kit:
For 21st century mothers, there seem to be just two choices: live up to the Super Mom or give up to be the Slacker Mom. One's bad for you; one's bad for your kids. So what's a momma to do?

In You're a Good Mom (and Your Kids Aren't So Bad Either): The 14 Secrets to Finding Happiness Between Super Mom and Slacker Mom, the Internet's favorite momma, Jen Singer, tells all. Turns out you can raise perfectly good kids in that sweet spot between flash cards at breakfast and "donuts for dinner, kids!" You'll find great tips like these:

Don't answer the phone when the class mom calls.

Your kid's birthday party isn't your coming-out celebration.

Don't treat fine restaurants like a McDonald's PlayPlace.

You think you're a "cool mom," but they think you're a pushover.

Filled with "that happened to me, too!" stories, YOU'RE A GOOD MOM offers giggles and a pat on the back for today's moms, whether they're deep in diapers or petrified by puberty.

What comes out in Jen's book (along with the belly laughs) is the simple truth that a good mom is the mom who meets the needs of her kids as individuals instead of struggling to adhere to fads, peer pressure, the PTO posse, or tight-lipped mandates from her own mom/ grandmom/ mom-in-law. A good mom blesses opportunities to laugh but is not afraid to let her children see her cry.

I'm really glad a friend handed me You're a Good Mom. It's not something I would have picked up on my own because my kids are grown, but it's an entertaining, girlfriendy read that has a lot to say about life and relationships no matter where you're at in the journey. I also love this book cover design with the one wayward duckling who refuses to stay in line. Darlings, no matter how much time, creativity, devotion, and mental real estate we put into mothering, every kid is going to be that duckling once in a while. You gotta love the little rascal.

Jen and I are also cell sisters; she was diagnosed (on D-Day, no less) with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma -- just as she was mowing through the final draft of this book.

"By the time I turned in my manuscript in August," says Jen, "I'd finished half of my chemotherapy treatments. The tumor in my lung, which had been the size of a softball, had shrunk to the size of a walnut. I was tired, weak and bald, but my kids didn't care as long as I was home, which, by the way, was under construction. In fact, I edited parts of this book while sawdust fell on my head from upstairs and strange men hammered and sawed on the other side of the wall."

Truly one of life's intense refining fires raging there. Vampire that I am, I can't wait to see what this bright, funny, completely delicious young author does with the raw material.