How To Set Limits Like Liz Gilbert

Dear Liz Gilbert,

When someone changes your life, it seems right to say thank you, doesn’t it?

I hope so. But right or wrong, I’m a writer, and you of all people know what that means. It means that I can’t help telling the stories that want to be told.

So here’s what happened when a group of friends and I showed up for your Big Magic event in Nashville.

Not that this will narrow it down, but we were the group that was so excited to see you, clapping and whooping as you took the stage with Ann Patchett.

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What If You Refused to Stop Walking Homeward?

Let’s just be blunt: the last week has been hard.

On behalf of us all, I’d like a cosmic refund. I’d like a do-over, our money back, and some free dessert for the table, please.

Here in the McGraw house, multiple projects stalled, and I felt adrift and unsure. Then the feral cats chose our yard as the new kitty hot spot, leading to a flea infestation. Every time I stepped outside I received new bites, and I’m allergic to them. (Thank God for antihistamines.)

Then I received some disappointing personal news. And after that I heard about the Oregon shooting and dropped into a sea of collective grief. What could anyone say in the face of terrible violence?

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It is OK to Choose the Heart of Gold Instead.

Tis the season for a slew of blog posts about the importance of slowing down and savoring.

It’s that time of year when writers feel compelled to publish essays on what really matters.

Don’t get me wrong; I love these posts. I’ll link to my current favorites throughout this essay. But it’s easy to read beautiful, elegant sentences and then revert to my usual habits.

So this Advent, I’ve clarified what I don’t want: I don’t want to lose sight of beauty. I don’t want to be a moving target, to look up after New Year’s and wonder, incredulously, Where did the time go?!

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