Laughter is the Best Medicine. Also Percocet.

You're all well aware of my philosophy on drama, right? Suck it up, laugh it off, only deal with what you have to? That's me. 

So when this summer's health problems hit, I was taken by surprise. (I didn't freak out horribly.) Honestly, the one million allergies diagnosis was a relief because it meant I wasn't sick all the time and with some treatment, I would feel better. I didn't panic about carpal tunnel surgery until I was on the gurney under the huge, bright surgery room lights and the anesthetic hadn't kicked in.

Before that point, I'd been making jokes. My mom said, “You're silly. And all they've given you is sugar water!” I was trying to ignore the large needle they'd shoved in my arm and the fact that we'd already waited a good two hours for the doctor to get started. A girl has gotta do something instead of just sit and stew, right? And it kept us both amused.

Later on when my friend sent me a selfie in a truly goofy pair of glasses, I remembered something else in my arsenal. My own crazy glasses. That first day we got some funny comments:
Hoe-lee-crap.
Are you surprised? She was completely drugged!
Well, you're having a goooood time!
I promise it wasn't the meds, but hey, a good dose of pain meds never hurt a gal, either! 

So, this is me. Saying thank you for all the laughter, support, prayers, kind thoughts, flowers, treats, and everything else that came my way. Every day I'd post updates and receive so much love in return. If my recovery is going well, it's because of you. Thank you, friends, family, and wonderful far off friends who support from the other side of the globe. I certainly needed it, because Percocet or not, we all need the to feel the love from time to time.

If, like me, you're going through a rough time, please remember that you're never alone. There are many who will uplift and tease until you feel like yourself again. Thank you, my friends.

Here's a bit more inspiration for you! What Doesn't Kill You, Cringe Worthy, Panic City, Population: 1, and Plot Twist!

Sassy Pants

Everyone talks about crafting strong female characters who possess the perfect blend of strength, weakness, and that special something that makes them jump off the page. Well, I'm here to pass on a little secret. Are you ready? I'll give you an extra second to compose yourselves. Okay. Now? Here we go!

It ain't hard when you have plenty of sass yourself.

When you're the type of girl who naturally makes snarky comments, wears fancy footwear, and falls on Yell Leaders and/or other unsuspecting individuals, you're pretty much set. If natural borne sass is something you struggle with, I'm here to help you. Consider me your Sass Guru.

Being a Sassy Pants in Five Easy Steps:

1) Embrace your awesomeness. You can choose the label you tag onto yourself. Make it adorable, spunky, fun, and yes, awesome. Why not? If you believe it, others will see it. (Incidentally, unless it's your mother, others will not label you accordingly. Don't allow their opinions to flavor your self-perception.)

2) Dress the part. I'm sorry, but Crocks, sweatpants and/or mother jeans are not dressing the part. This isn't a 24-7 gig, but you do need to dress up in order to make an impression. Trust me, there will be time for Netflix and pajama pants in the off-hours.

3) Exude sassiness. Don't confuse sass with crass. Sassiness is a mix of cleverness, teasing, and cuteness that attracts people to you rather than driving them off. It is an invitation to spend more time with you rather than to duck and cover. (Also, in case you pass the line between crass and sass, learn to apologize appropriately.)

4) Stand your ground. You may be adorable, but you don't need to be anyone's doormat. Express yourself respectfully but firmly. (For instance, I will make you cookies in a ruffly, ruffly apron, but I will also tell you to please shush and go away if you're getting on my nerves.)

5) Learn to defend yourself. Whether it means taking a self-defense class or just watching Miss Congeniality repeatedly, learn to take care of yourself. That way if your snarky younger brother decides to kick you in the lady bits at Kmart, you too can deliver a sound jab to the jaw to remind him how to treat a lady.

Once you've uncovered your inner sass, pour it into your characters. Make them as quirky and lovable as you are. Not only will you be the strong female lead in your own life, but your characters will live and breathe.

* * *

Like to devour a bit more? Meet a few of my leading ladies in Woman: The Most Dangerous Plaything, Arguing With Myself, Hostile Makeover, Interlude in the Rose Garden, S'more Smoochin',  Just a Taste. & Dealing With Divas. Enjoy the sass!

Miranual for Life

Is It Just Me? The title along with that fabulous cover tells most of the story.

Have you ever felt like you were the only idiot in a sea of posh people who have it all together? That's the premise behind Miranda Hart's self-help book. I'm a huge fan of Miranda, a British show full of prat falls, running gags, and a colorful characters. So, when I discovered that Miranda Hart had written a book, I needed to take a peek. 

It's what she calls a Miran-ual for life, and covers everything from being non-musical to the horrors of weddings. Yes, that's right, horrible, try-to-behave-yourself-when-you're-on-display-for-everyone-to-see weddings. Miranda, whose own past (and present) are speckled with crazy foot-in-mouth moments, spends the bulk of the pages reassuring her readers that everyone has their issues, and the rest of them making you laugh out loud. It turns out no one is the poshy person they put forward. Isn't it time we embrace our uniqueness?

And coming from Miranda Hart, that advice is indeed reassuring. There's something unbelievably relatable about someone who accepts their own quirkiness and makes a career of it. That's “what I call” admirable.

So yes, if you need an ego boost or just a good laugh, pick up a copy of Is It Just Me? written in Miranda Hart's one-of-a kind comedienne style. You'll realize that no, it's not just you. We're all officially crazy. Isn't it such fun?

Check out Is It Just Me? on Goodreads or pick up a copy on Amazon. (And if you're reading this Miss Miranda, yes I'd love to be besties! Drop me a tweet, eh?)

Need something else to read? Check out some of my other recommendations: Love Triangle, Shmove Triangle, Letters To My Future Husband, Anne-with-an-E, Where Life Takes You, Persuaded, Pass the Pepper, or Geek Chic. Carry on, reader chums!

Expect the Unexpected

Because that makes sense. It's about as enlightening as What goes up must come down. Oh yeah, Sherlock, are you sure about that? How about Until you learn to master your rage, your rage will become your master. 

The problem is that the unexpected isn't something you can anticipate. Because, after all, it's unexpected. (Can you tell I spend most of my life with five-year-olds?) What you can do is keep the freak-outs to a minimum, keep your support group on call, and keep a stash of homey comforts on hand (chocolates, softy blankies, burly firemen, and the like).

Awesome things are coming my way. And yours. I don't know about you, but I can't wait! And I really can't wait to share them with you...but in the meantime, this is my game plan:

Stay involved in amazing projects: I have several back burner projects I can whip out at any time. Focusing on them, even just for an evening, gets my creative juices flowing. (And some of them have nothing to do with writing!)

Stick with amazing people: I will forever be grateful to my friends and family. When anything goes sideways, or hey, even when it's awesome, they're there for me. We celebrate. We commiserate. We go bowling. We watch chick flicks. It's all good.

Participate in something inspiring: If it's church and gospel study or inspirational memes on Facebook, Pinterest, or Instagram, I try to find something inspiring and uplifting every day. And share it with someone else. Nothing recharges the batteries like pondering something good and sharing it with someone else.

Get plenty of rest: Mental health and acuity are more tied to physical health than we realize. So, why am I still awake writing this? I have no idea. But the plan is to rest. (Sometimes my body has a plan of it's own...but there's always Tylenol PM.)

Read/watch something fabulous: We call this research, but as often as not, taking a stroll down a different path freshens our minds and gets the creativity percolating. And plus, we just really like 5 hours of Downton at a time. (Not even kidding. And not even sorry.)

Do something you love (even if it's only for 5 minutes): Getting stuck in a loop where worry and nerves affect your emotional well being isn't fun. Even if it's five minutes of breathing and out and resisting the urge to hide under the table and/or throw things, it can help you move on instead of having a massive freak out. (Dancing in the kitchen while making brownies is a personal favorite.)

What do you do to keep yourself from crossing over into the bad place? (Or getting out of the bad place instead of taking up residence there?) Leave me a comment! I'd love to hear what you have about your coping strategies. And stay tuned, news is forthcoming (the next couple of weeks will be fun).

Like to read more? Here's are a few more posts about my crazy life and how I cope with everything life throws at me. (Man, it's been a tough year!) Ready or Not, Author Envy, Panic City, Population 1.

Ready or Not...

If you're like me, you know what's happening tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and so on until the end of time. On occasion, a twist appears in the road. Sometimes instead of your regular run of the mill twist, there's a loop-the-loop wicked enough to trigger your vomit reflex.

The question is, do you take the curves or do you stay on the well-known path? 

My life has been upside down since 2013. In a good way. Because of the experiences related to publishing Becoming Beauty, I've reevaluated how I see myself. For over ten years I have been The Queen of Kindergarten. My career as the Kindergarten Teacher Extraordinaire has been my entire identity. Not that anyone knew about it, but writing was always just something I did. It had never defined me. Until my name was printed on the cover of Becoming Beauty. Oh so quickly I became Sarah E Boucher, author. 

Accepting that there was more to me than my chosen career as an educator was a huge mental shift. The ups and downs aren't what I'm used to, but the process is amazing. Each day I'm learning more about who I am and who I am becoming. And I love that.  

 We all encounter twists and turns in life. How we respond to them defines us.

In writing: The planned outcome. The perfect resolution. The safe road. But sometimes the best ideas come mid-project when the only option is doing some substantial rewriting. Throwing your heart and soul into a project is what makes life exciting and makes stories magical.

In editing: Passing your work into someone else's hands is an act of faith. The most horrifying thing you may ever do is trust someone to make your best better. No matter what the outcome of that interchange, the process will grow you as a writer. (And hey, nobody said you had to listen to any of their comments...)

In life: There's nothing wrong with being happy with your place in life. There is something terribly wrong with going through the motions and feeling miserable and out of place. Believe me, YOU and I were built for something amazing. Whether big or small, in the limelight or behind the scenes, your life should be beautiful.

The question stands: will you take the curves as they come or will you stay on the well known path? Life is teaching me the importance of questioning the easy choices and embracing the good ones. I have no idea how things will turn out, but it will prove interesting!

Thanks for dropping in!  Good luck finding your happy place!

The Start of Something Good

Teaching young children is like growing a garden, you get to see everything from sobbing and knowing nothing on the first day of school to the development of competent readers and writers who vow they'll miss you forever on the last day of school.

One of my--ahem--cherubs was just such a girl.  I had educated her older two sisters, who were both bright and willing to help, and I expected much of the same. What actually happened took me by surprise. I've crafted a short story to give you the basics of her first day of kindergarten:

          I glared at the airplane thingy stuck on the front of the school.  

          Nope. 

          There was no way I was going under that thing or through those big glass doors, no matter what was behind them.  My sisters, after saying hello to everyone, had already gone in, but I wasn't going to follow. No matter what they'd told me about school, I just wanted to be home.

          “Come along, m’hija,” Mom said quietly, her warm hand tugging mine. "It's time for school. Your teacher will be waiting." 

          I fixed my big brown eyes on her. It didn't matter that I was only five. I already knew what my big eyes could do. You'd see. She'd cave in a minute, and then it would be home, my favorite cereal, and cartoons galore.

          Mom didn't look convinced. She raised her eyebrows and gave me the Mommy Look instead.

          Usually, being the smallest in the family means I do what I want. Today, being the smallest meant that if she towed me where I didn't want to go, I had no choice but to follow.

          We passed through the big glass doors and were swallowed up by too much noise and too many long legs. A few kids peeking through their parents legs like me, but most of them hurried off and left their parents behind.  I could never do that.

          A wall of windows, the sun glaring through them, stretched in front of us. Between the brightness, the noise, and all the people, it was too much.  I tried to hide behind mom, but she didn't give me the chance. To both sides branched wide, white hallways, like at the hospital.  My stomach felt funny just thinking about it. When Ana had gotten hurt, we'd all gone to the hospital. 

          I hated it. 

          Remembering she'd gotten hurt at school, I tried to dig my heels in, but the floor was too slippery. Mom didn't seem to be bothered by any of it.  Ignoring everything, she led me down one of the hallways.  More glass doors stood at the end of the hall. Had I won? Looking at the doors, my insides felt less funny. Home, cereal, and cartoons, here I come!

          Right before we got there, mom turned again and I lost sight of the way out and forgot about cartoons for a second. In front of me were kids my size with Dora, Barbie, and Sponge Bob backpacks strapped to their backs. I wanted a closer look at them, but not if it meant staying at school. 

          Parents helped kids put their things away, took pictures, and shelled out kisses and hugs. Were they all leaving? Would my mom leave? I dug in my heels the best I could. I wasn't going any further. The only place I was going was home.

          Mom turned to me and crouched down so she was looking right in my eyes and said in her softest voice, “You're going to be fine. Your sisters loved kindergarten.”

I didn't believe her, but I didn't have time to think about it because that's when she got there.  I'd seen her before.

          “Good morning, Mari. How are you?” she asked. Unlike mom's, her voice was loud. And how did she know my name? 

          “Are you ready for kindergarten?” Her smile—like the rest of her—was too big. She was even bigger than daddy.

          Tears splashed down my cheeks. Mom was going to leave me with this big lady! I flung my arms around my mom. She wasn't leaving without me.

          Her big brown eyes were sad as she peeled me off and passed me to the big lady. The big lady's hand went to my back as she steered me to a room full of bright colors and strange girls and boys. I glanced back at mom, trying to decide if I could make it back to her.  She smiled a little smile at me.

          Just then the big lady crouched down to whisper in my ear, “You know, Mari, there are so many fun things waiting for you. And I already know we're going to be good friends.”

          Her warm hand on my back and her words still in my ears, something inside me grew less scared. I looked back at mom one more time, and taking a deep breath, I stepped into the classroom.

 * * * * *

I'd like to say it was that easy.  In reality, the little friend in question spent the better part of the first month of school sobbing and refusing to eat breakfast for the first 20 minutes of every day. However, in the end she became one of my greatest success stories.  Not only does she read and write beautifully, but she is confident and happy at school and simply adores me.  (That last part probably isn't important from an educational standpoint, but I really did tell her we were going to be best friends, because even with all those tear, I had that feeling from the get-go.)

For more of my adventures in kindergarten, read Closing Time and Run, Forrest, RUN! And if you ever need a slice of sunshine, feel free to volunteer at your local elementary school.  Seriously, little people are the most gracious and welcoming individuals I know.

Truth-Telling Fiction

Many people question the value of fiction.  After all, how in the world can characters who never lived or breathed teach someone how to navigate the paths of life successfully?

Being a dreamer, I get it.  Here's my explanation:

Good fiction nestles nuggets of truth between action, romance, and heartbreak.  Driven to finish a story, we devour page after page, discovering hidden gems along the way that shine out all the brighter for being unexpected.

Fiction opens the mind to the possibility of miracles, magic, & true love.  Magic, true love, and miracles have their counterparts in real life.  If we have eyes trained to search out and recognize them, we will.

Through the eyes of fictional characters, we see the world more clearly. The reality overlaying the fiction reveals the truth of the one and the beauty in the other.  Author's paint their own beliefs into their works, spreading a vision of faith, strength, humor, and hope as easily as they can spread pessimism, hopelessness, and fear.

Gifted authors have the ability to lift souls from the depths of sorrow, ignorance, loneliness, and pain. Through the power of words, which according to Dumbledore are our most inexhaustible source of magic, we teach others about  strength, beauty, and wisdom.  Even in fiction. 

For a wonderful example of truth-telling fiction, pick up Defy by Sara B. Larson. The story of Alexa, a gifted fighter who must disguise herself as a soldier, Defy is a fantastic blend of girl power, romance, and the true meaning of beauty.