Blog

For the Curious: My Own Tech Habits, Rules, Boundaries (etc etc etc)

I will start by offering the very blanket disclaimer that we are all in the practice of offering when writing and sharing Anything Online™ : these are my own personal boundaries, for my own personal life, given my own personal limitations. This is not a standard to live by, nor an expectation I believe anyone else must carry in order to achieve “digital wellbeing.” Consider this what it is: a mere overview of one rebellious woman’s habits – a woman who happens to bristle at the myth that we must participate in Internet Culture in order to live a rich, full, and/or vibrant life.

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The Social Media-Free Creative

Shortly after publishing this post, my inbox became a beautiful jungle of sorts. I heard from hundreds of writers, creatives, and artists sharing a wide range of perspectives and experiences – Leaving social media? Impossible for my business! – to I’d love that. But how? I was curious to notice that, within each email, there

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On Choosing the Raven

We had been preparing for a move, a temporary one, in which we would spend our first summer sleeping on a raw 160 acres of newness, of mountains, of yarrow. And all was in tumult. Ken and I were juggling our own proverbial spheres – he, putting finishing touches on a rental property – me,

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Giving Ourselves What Technology Can’t

My book, The Opt-Out Family will land on your stoops and library shelves in a few weeks, which means I’ve finally arrived at the universal publishing milestone in which an author wakes at 3am and realizes she’s forgotten to say something that needs saying. In all honesty, the book is 320 pages long and has

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Currently

This weekend, Bee will don a polyester veil and trot down the sanctuary as Mary in our church’s pageant. Can you send me her measurements, or take a look at these size charts? our children’s director asks before sending me links to various costumes on Amazon. We sift through dozens of options, find ourselves giggling

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The World We’ve Created

  Months ago, I am stuck in San Luis Obispo. The plane needs this one part, says the attendant. We had to order it. Might be here Thursday? It is Sunday. The airport is small, and a sudden swarm of indignation thickens the air. We have homes, we argue. Lives! Babies who need our care,

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70,000

Tonight, I hit 70,000 words on my latest manuscript. It still has a ways to go – two chapters and a conclusion, then it’s off to the publisher for edits – but, for whatever reason, this feels like a milestone worth noting. Could be the windows flung open, four bunnies and a robin playing Oonch

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