Mother Was Right

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Tomorrow is, of course, Mother’s Day, when we celebrate moms - our own, or those who took us under their wing, or those who have stood in place of a mother.

 

My relationship with my mother was as complicated as most of ours are; I loved her very much and she could drive me crazy like no one else. She was caring, energetic, had a razor-sharp wit and would have been a CEO if she’d been born in a different time. She lived through a lot, and she wanted to share the wisdom she’d gained, thus, the driving-me-crazy part.

 

The older I’ve gotten, though, the more I realize, well, how right my mother was about many things. Being firm but very polite does make people want to help solve your problem. People will treat you differently depending on how you’re dressed. One glass of wine while cooking dinner and one while eating it should  be enough for anyone sensible. Investing regularly in a no-load index fund is the surest way to build wealth.

 

The most right thing she ever said to me? “You should be a writer.” Yep, it was my mom who first told me that was where my talents lie - and this was after I’d gotten a masters and a JD.

 

How about you, Reds? What was your mother right about?

 

RHYS BOWEN: I’m trying to think. My mother was not an easy person when I was growing up. School principal. Hyper critical  later we had a great relationship but I see now that she was overworked, over stressed and had awful migraines. I wish she had given me more advice but frankly I can’t remember much. When I wanted to apply to RADA she did say to get my degree first then I’d have something to fall back on if acting didn’t work. I got my degree and went into the production side instead. Was that good advice? I sold my first play to the BBC so maybe it was.

 

HALLIE EPHRON: My mother was a Hollywood screenwriter. WAY ahead of her time. For each of the four of us she picked first names that would still define us if/when we got married and acquired a new last name. And she wanted us to have real jobs, WORK and creative lives in a man’s world.  She was aghast that I wanted to be a teacher. Too traditionally female. It took 20 years for my expectations to catch up with hers.

 

DEBORAH CROMBIE: Most of the things my mom passed on to me were by example, love of travel, love of learning, an expectation that I could accomplish things. She worked from the time she left school and became an equal partner in my parents’ business. She NEVER encouraged or expected me to just get married and have kids. With only a highschool education, she fully supported my various forays in higher education, but when I wanted to transfer into a respected four-year liberal arts college, she insisted that I first take a secretarial course, so that I “could always make a living.” That turned out to be great advice, even if not quite in the way she expected!

 

 

 

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: Oh, my mom was always right. Just ask her.

Sometimes, now, when something happens that I know she’d love–or more likely, criticize–I wish she were here to give her pronouncements. And I wish she were here so I could tell her how often she was right. I remember asking her why she was always so critical of me–and she’d say: “I’m not criticizing, I’m just observing.”

If I got an A, she’d be annoyed that it wasn’t an A-plus.  Nothing was ever ever enough.  I’m not sure I’ve ever stopped trying to please her. And you know, that might not actually be a bad thing. 

Her advice: Never have your photo taken holding a glass of wine. Never wear a color not found in nature. And, a word for word maxim, “thoughtful consideration of others is the sign of a true lady.”

 

 

LUCY BURDETTE: Like Debs, I think I learned more from my mother by watching than her pronouncements. She loved animals, her family, food, reading. I did not learn about her desserts from her as she didn’t have a sweet tooth and wasn’t a baker except for Christmas cookies and birthday cakes (I think the latter were from mixes.) John and I always laugh about her sex education talk: “One day you will love a man the way you do your cat.” He says he’s still waiting:). 

 

Happy mother’s day to all mothers, grandmothers, aunts, sisters, teachers, therapists–so many should get credit and thanks for taking care of the world!

 

JENN McKINLAY: My mom is one of my besties. She has the unique ability to love her people unconditionally, so even when her people do something thoughtless or make a bad choice, she is very clear that she’s in your corner and will help you even while calling you a dumbass. I think the best advice she ever gave me was when I was pregnant. She said, “As you start, so shall you go.” It made me aware that how I chose to parent the Hooligans would set the foundation for our relationship for the rest of their lives. Happy to say the Hooligans are now two of my besties, so Mom was right per usual.

JULIA: Dear readers, what was your mother (or mother-like-person) right about?

Have You Considered This? (good advice on every subject!)

 LUCY BURDETTE: it’s graduation season, the time for giving advice as young people sally out into the world. Makes me think of THE GRADUATE wherein the new graduate played by Dustin Hoffman is given cryptic one-word advice: plastics. (He needed other help too!) It’s also wedding season, and even though the happy couples may not think they need advice, they do. The reds team wrote a wonderful blog about advice for maintaining a happy marriage several years ago, and it’s well worth rereading (or reading for the first time.) Even if you’re not married, or think you know everything.  

I’d love to get one piece of short advice from all of you—you know the audience (advice takers) has a short attention span! Here are a few that caught my attention in the NYT article from December 2023 (I cannot find the link, so sorry!) that got me thinking about this subject:

You’re 73 years old — can you stop with the one-man shows? — Michael Kearns, Los Angeles

Nothing good is happening on your phone past 8 p.m. — Miriam Lichtenberg, Brooklyn, N.Y.

We are all juggling so many balls. Differentiate between glass balls and rubber balls — and don’t be afraid to drop the rubber balls. — Kathryn Cunningham, Carrboro, N.C.

Wait as long as possible to get your kids a phone. — Laura LaGrone, Asheville, N.C.

Breathe in, thinking, “I listen for the silence.” Breathe out: “I am not the hero of every story.” Breathe in: “I will not get free alone.” Out: “I am worthy of belonging.” — Richard Ashford, Chevy Chase, Md.

LUCY AGAIN: You see, the advice ranged over many different topics. Now it’s your turn Reds, what would you tell the world in a sentence or two? 

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Wear sunscreen every day. Yes, even on those days when it’s raining - that’s when you put on the 15 SPF instead of 30. Cover everything that’s exposed. You’ll lower your chance of skin cancer by 40-50%, and I guarantee you’ll thank me when you look in the mirror on your fiftieth birthday.

HALLIE EPHRON: Smell the lilacs. Watch the catbirds making a nest. Sit outside and take in the setting sun. Savor. 

JENN McKINLAY: Be kind. It costs nothing. You have no idea what other people are going through and their struggle is none of your business, but you can always choose kindness.

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: Worrying is worshipping the problem—so don’t give your fears life by giving them that much attention.  

And count your blessings.  

RHYS BOWEN: Life isn’t fair. Get over it. Sometimes someone else will get what you deserve and sometimes you’ll get what they deserve. All you can do is your best, all the time.

DEBORAH CROMBIE: Be open to possibilities. Plans and goals are great, but you have no idea what unexpected twists your life may take.

Okay Reds, your turn now! One piece of important advice…

How to Enjoy the Back-to-School Season (No Kids Required)

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: September. For those of us in the North, the leaves begin to change, the days shorten, and it's time to begin scheduling all the work we need to do to get ready for winter. In the South, people finally emerge from their air-conditioning and harvest their late season garden. Everywhere, theater groups and symphonies begin their seasons and 15-pound editions of fashion magazines are stuffed with cool weather looks

September is the month of beginnings, of new starts, of changes. (Really, it, not January, ought to be the the New Year.) While a bit of that is due to the shifting weather, that's not really the root - October is far more of a dramatic change from summer throughout the US. No, September has that edge of excitement because for over a century, it has been the beginning of the school year. 

For almost every adult raised in America, September meant a new lunch box, a stack of school supplies, and meeting new kids while you played kickball during recess. It meant new clothes for school, (which might have been bought at Neiman-Marcus or hand-me-downs from your cousin.) It meant that first field trip of the year. Even today, you feel it - that lift you get when you see the first bright yellow schoolbus coming down the street. (You have a different feeling when you're stuck behind the bus.)

So how do we grown-ups, many of whom are not only past our own school days, but past our kid's school days, recapture that delicious sense of novelty and starting again? I'm glad you asked that, Julia, because I have a few suggestions. 

1. Get a lunch box. Really. You know you ought to be taking your lunch to work anyway. It's healthier than take-out and will save you a bundle of money. Go for one of the modern kind, with the flaps and zippers and special compartments for ice packs and resealable boxes. Or, hop on eBay and finally snag the Dating Game lunch box you always wanted but your mother wouldn't buy for you. I guarantee, if you show up with a Six Million Dollar Man or a Monkees lunchbox, you'll hear from coworkers you've never spoken to before.

2. Organize your school supplies. Collect the pencils you have stashed in half a dozen drawers, sharpen them and put them in a can or jar. As my 6th grade teacher said, "A sharp pencil means a sharp mind." You'll feel smarter just looking at all those points. Unearth the crayons and markers you have hiding hither and yon. Smell that marker smell! (But not too much - in school the rumor was it caused brain damage.) If you're feeling ambitious, a school-year planner is just the thing - it begins in August and runs through 18 months, so you can really plan ahead.

3. Go to gym class. Let's face it, if you want to join a gym/fitness center/YMCA, this month is a lot better than January. Do you actually want to slog through some of the worst weather of the year to see yourself, pale as a fish belly, in fluorescent lights? No. No, you don't. Go now, when you drive there with the car window rolled down and you still have a bit of that summer glow.

Health club membership not in the budget? September and October are the best months for walking, hiking, and running outdoors, according to US News and World Report. (Unless you're experiencing a hurricane. Do not hike in a hurricane.) If you're not a fan of nature, there are dozens and dozens of free exercise videos on YouTube, teaching you everything from dance cardio and  martial arts to Yoga and Tai Chi.

4. Get a new school outfit. I don't know about the rest of you, but in my family, unless you outgrew or destroyed something, September was when we kids got all our clothing for the year. My mother was the Queen of bargain-shopping, and I can still remember the thrill of the hunt - finding the perfect pair of jeans or top or sweater marked down by 70 percent!! You don't need to break the bank to get the feeling again - Youngest and I went back-to-school shopping for her and I bought a new pair of sneakers for myself. Now, that doesn't sound like much, but as many of us of a (ahem) certain age find, I simply don't get myself new clothing or shoes very often. (In fact, most of my friends my age are focused on getting rid of excess items in the closet.) So picking up some fun new footwear, for no other reason than I liked it, was a blast.

I have a friend who grew up in very straitened circumstances who never, ever had new clothing for the new school year. Now she's all grown up and makes a comfortable living, she buys herself a complete, head-to-toe new outfit every fall. It's never too late to strut your stuff in front of the other kids.

5. Take a field trip. The Lonely Planet Guide says September is the best month for travel, and it's easy to see why. Everyone who still has kids is staying close to home for school, leaving tourist areas that were jammed in August delightfully free. In many places, September is part of the "rump season," with reduced, off-peak prices. And of course, the weather is pretty wonderful (again, excepting hurricanes.)

Of course, field trips were supposed to be educational. Consider going to one of the local museums or historic houses you never  get to (why leave the best experiences for the tourists?) Get a couple friends together and spend Saturday walking thorough art galleries. (I've done this before, and we all found it incredibly creatively stimulating.) City dwellers can hit up the zoo, take a walking tour, visit the theater or symphony hall (In Portland, several organizations have reduced price tickets for pre-opening night dress rehearsals, which might be more educational than seeing the finished performance.) As an adult, you'll probably get more out of it than you did as a school child - in my case, the gift shop and lunch were always the highlights of any place we visited.

Okay, dear readers, now it's your turn. What are your suggestions for recapturing the excitement of September? And do you have fond memories and good stories to share about your own start-of-school experiences?

The Worst Writing Advice I've Ever Gotten

JENN McKINLAY: I was scrolling through Twitter this week when a thread popped up asking authors what the worst writing advice they'd ever gotten was. Author Victoria/V.E. Schwab was the twitterer who lobbed the question out there and it garnered almost 1,000 comments. Clearly, there is a lot of very bad writing advice out there!

The Tweet that started it all.

It certainly got me thinking about the worst advice I've ever received. My path to authordom was a long and winding one, in fact, you could say I took the long way around - the really long way around. I decided to be a writer at sixteen, didn't start writing until I was twenty-five, and sold my first book when I was thirty-two. As you can imagine, I was given much unsolicited advice over the years from the moment I decided to be a writer to the first book sale. And I've gotten plenty of advice since then, as well.

I think the piece of advice I dislike the most always starts with "You know what you should write..." which is then followed by some half baked potato of a plot in the speaker's head that they would write, you know, if they had the time. Uh huh.

Other gems include:

1. You should just be your own agent. How hard can it be? Am I right?

No. I don't want to be an agent. I want to be a writer. Duh.

2. Don't overuse "said" as a dialogue tag. Spice it up!

"No," she remarked/refused/retorted. Said is fine, thanks.

3. Write what you know.

Nope, and I'll tell you why...BORING! And if I'm bored writing it, you'll be bored reading it. Write what you care about would be much better advice.

4. Don't use the word "was". Ever.

Welp, I wasn't going to listen to you and now I'm really not. Yes, be aware of using the passive voice but that doesn't mean every use of the word was is bad. Sheesh!

5. Follow the market.

Oh, lord no! See number three, but also, once the Fifty Shades of Twilight with a Dragon Tattoo craze becomes obvious, it's usually over before you can pen your version of it. You do you is a much better way to go.

All right, Reds, you're up. What's the worst writing advice you've ever gotten? Readers, what horrible suggestions have you heard?

Alice Bradley on the Stupidity of Writing (and/or Living) for People who Dislike You

SUSAN ELIA MACNEAL: I'm delighted to introduce today's guest, Alice Bradley. She's a writer (Let's Panic About Babies), award-winning blogger (Finslippy), podcast host (League of Awkward Unicorns), and all-around badass, who's also working on her first novel. 

Recently, Alice wrote a post that resonated with me in a big way, titled "The Stupidity of Writing (and/or Living) for People Who Dislike You." ("It's as if you hear all the voices in my head!" wrote one of her fans — and I feel the same.) 

All of us who put ourselves out there (whether as a novelist, a blogger, or — hey — a human being) can one minute be having fun with our passion, love, and creativity, and then the next hear the negative voices (and there are always negative voices and punishing people — that's one thing to count on in this life, it seems) who seemingly want us to stop, to quit, to play possum, or worse. 

But we can't quit, not if we want to be true to ourselves, make the art we want — and lead the life we want. 

And so, what to do? 

Thank goodness, Alice has some advice. Welcome!

ALICE BRADLEY: Thank you, Susan and Reds. 

Halfway through my senior year of high school, a group of my friends decided they didn’t like me anymore. It felt at the time like the entire class had turned against me, but it was probably about five people. Nonetheless, they were five people I spent a lot of my time with, and they were fairly well-liked, so other people who had once thought I was cool now found me loathsome. I devolved from “somewhat cool to hang out near” to “What? No.” It was…difficult.

It was never clear to me what started it; over a period of weeks 

and months I was just frozen out. People who had once laughed 

at my jokes were now rolling their eyes. Then walking away. And 

when I asked them what I had done, they said, God, you don't 

understand anything. I’d call and their moms would say they were 

busy and their moms would sound embarrassed. Like that. If I had 

to dig through my memory I’m positive I'd find I wasn’t blameless, 

but luckily no one’s making me dig through my memory. (It’s messy 

in there.) 

So that’s hard to remember, but what’s even worse were my attempts 

to change their minds. Because I did not say, “Well, screw you” 
and concentrate on the few good friends who stuck by me. Oh no 
I did not. 

Instead I engaged in desperate and frantic bids to get their friendships 

back. Showing up at get-togethers that I wasn’t specifically not invited

to. Breakin’ the rules and gettin’ suspended to show that I was a real 

bad-ass. (And apparently dropping my g’s.) Worst of all, I made up 

gossip, literally made up dirt on people, to show that I was somehow 

in the know and worth hanging out with. You can imagine how well 

that turned out. 

In my spare time I was learning what "panic attacks" were and 

breaking out into epic rashes (the family dermatologist was fascinated 

by me that year), and when I was at school I playacted at being an 

asshole. Somehow I thought that if they didn’t like me, maybe they’d 

like this frantic, aggressive version of me. 

This strategy, not surprisingly, backfired, in that not only did they 

dislike me even more, the few people who were still brave enough to 

be my friends were beginning to see their point. Is it a coincidence 

that the one friend who was kind enough to sit me down and tell me 

what a dick I was being, and then forgive me when I acknowledged 

said dickness, is now a priest? It is not. She is a goddamn saint. 

The whole situation was pretty excruciating, and the only thing that 

saved me was graduation. 

This particular story was a dramatic example but not an exception to 

how I like to focus on someone who doesn’t like me and try and make 

them like me. I’ve homed in on the one person in my life who doesn’t 

think I’m all that charming and used all my charm to change their 

minds. And do you know what? This has always failed! Sometimes spectacularly! 

If someone doesn’t like you, it’s probably got more to do with them 

than you, but either way, I've learned, there’s not too much you can 

do about it. Unless you’ve actively been a terrible person, in which 

case you should quit doing that, for everyone’s sake. 

I’ve been thinking of this period in my life recently, because I found 

myself recently trying to understand why I’ve struggled with blogging 

over the past few years. Since I started it in 2004, Finslippy has been 

one of the most joyful experiences of my life. I gave it my random 

thoughts and it gave me friends, positive feedback, a book deal, 

television appearances, a stream of writing gigs, crazy speaking 

engagements and video projects, and more than one job. I owe my blog so much.

It also provided me with the weird sensation of reading about how 

much some people weren’t into me. Of course, right? Once your 

audience extends beyond your friends and family, it’s inevitable that someone’s not going to think you’re particularly interesting. I always 

knew that. I just didn’t know people would find me so not-that-great 

that they’d be compelled to write about it. And that so many people 

would agree with them. 

I am not a special case. This is in no way unusual. It happens to 

everyone who's put anything out there in the world. It’s the byproduct 

of creative output. If anything, I’ve gotten off easy. I’ve gotten off 

easy, though, because I’ve pulled back. And I’ve pulled back because 

the negative feedback was too painful. 

And it’s not like I was being attacked on the regular, by any means. 

All I got were a few comments on a forum here and there. A 

discussion thread or two about how non-exemplary I was. A couple 

of Google alerts let me know that I wasn’t nearly as great as I 

(apparently) believed. A couple of emails informing me that I’m 

a garbage dump of a person. That kind of stuff. 

In realizing that I wasn't alone with this phenomenon, I also read 

scathing attacks on my blogging peers and my friends. I sort of...

obsessed over these attacks. I saw people I understand on a cellular 

level being ridiculed and dismissed. No one was making me read 

those sites. But somewhere in the weird little frightened squirrel 

part of my brain, I was taking notes, trying to figure out what these 

people who hated everything would like, how I could be that cool girl 

who’d get a pass. 

It didn’t take long for me to really get these people's voices in my 

head. I became increasingly careful with what I wrote. I edited and 

re-edited. I second-guessed and didn't hit publish. I became 

increasingly self-conscious and reactive and every post just felt 

harder and harder. And then I gave up. It wasn’t fun anymore. 

But who made it un-fun? I did. I denied myself the joy of writing shit 

that I wanted to write. How stupid is that? Who was this benefiting? 

A few people who probably weren’t paying any attention? Would 

these people spontaneously contact me and say, “You know, I used to 

think you were boring and unfunny, but now that you’re not writing at 

all, you’ve really grabbed my attention. Want to get drinks?” And then

we’d get drinks and we’d be best friends and everyone would like me 

again and I’d be voted Most Misunderstood But Secretly Great? 

This is silly. It’s so silly. There’s always going to be someone who 

doesn’t think you’re great. Don’t read it. Don’t read negative shit in 

general, actually: it’s poison. 

And if someone doesn’t like you enough to fire off an angry missive 

about how you're the worst, just rest easy in the knowledge that that 

person is a miserable chafe of a human being who doesn’t deserve 

your time and energy.

Then reply, “For the last time, I’m not going to have sex with you.” 

This always freaks them out. Because secretly they wanted to have 

sex with you. They all do. Because you’re super hot.

SUSAN ELIA MACNEAL: Thank you, Alice! And you are super 

hot, darling. 




Reds and lovely readers, have you ever gone out on a limb with 
something (artistically, personally) only to get a lot of negativity? 
(Not constructive critisism, of course, but that really personal, 

vindictive stuff?) Did it ever stop you for a while? Did it stop 

you completely? How did/do you deal with it? And how did you, 

or will you, triumph?




Please tell us — and Alice— in the comments!

ABOUT ALICE BRADLEY: I'm a writer, and I live in Brooklyn, 

New York, with my husband Scott, my son Henry, my dog 

Hazel, and Izzy the cat.

I write both fiction and nonfiction. I've written for all kinds of 
publications and websites. So many. At some point I'll provide 

a list, I promise. 

I've been writing Finslippy since 2004. I've been called a 

parenting blogger, but these days I write quite a bit more about 
creativity, art, depression, city life, our surly cat and peeing 
Chihuahua, my extended family, and sometimes, okay, parenting.

I've got a podcast with Deanna Zandt called The League of 
Awkward Unicorns, It's about mental illness (depression, anxiety, etc. etc.) 

and emotional wellness (things that help, whether it's 

medication, exercise, or wrapping oneself up in a Snuggie 

while binge-watching The Mindy Project). Find us on iTunes 

here. 

In March 2011 I co-authored a book called LET'S PANIC 

ABOUT BABIES! with the beloved Eden Marriott Kennedy. It 

was published in St. Martin's Press, and we're quite proud of it. 

You can read all about the book (and enjoy our book trailer, 

excerpts, and reviews) over here.

I love emails from readers, although I can't always reply to them as 
quickly as I'd like. My favorite comments from readers include 

the following:

"You write as if you're listening to the voices in my head."

And:

"I usually find things amusing online, but don't always laugh, 

like with my voice. 

Today I did."

If you have anything to say, I'd love to hear from you. Thanks.