I'll admit that sometimes during family movie night, I'll stay busy on my computer while the rest of them watch a movie. In my defense, I do generally stay in the same room with the family. Also, they generally choose some superhero film I have no interest in watching for the sixth or seventh time.

But tonight, because I'm so flipping open-hearted per my Sankalpa, I stayed right there in the fray for Pete's Dragon, the 2016 version starring Bryce Dallas Howard and Robert Redford.  As a bonus, this was our first time watching this fine film - Mac got it for Christmas from Uncle Kevin. This Pete turned out to be pretty much what I thought it would be: a predictable, heartwarming Disney story of motherless children, their heartbreak, and the families that heal their wounds.

And it was so sad and wonderful - and Robert Redford looked so scraggly, old-guy handsome - that I bawled my freaking eyes out.

The kids have been teasing Dan for months about his infamous tendency to cry during movies and television shows, and also to cry during some especially touching advertisements for laundry detergent and/or auto insurance. When anything remotely moving happens on screen, the kids are immediately studying their dad. "Are you crying?" they demand.  And then they laugh at him and sometimes hug him, too.

So, obviously, Dan was crying at the end of Pete's Dragon when Pete (Spoiler Alert for the most predictable movie ever!) lets his dragon go and decides to live with Bryce Dallas Howard's human family that can meet his basic needs, like for clothing. The kids were lasered on Dan's welling emotion, until Mac realized that I was also overcome.

"Dad!" Mac. "She's got DRIP TEARS!"

"It's sad," I blubbered.

And it was. See how open-hearted I am? I'm moved by fuzzy green CGI dragons. If Sankalpa were something to win, I'd be doing it.

A 9:30 bedtime keeps me from watching most TV.

When the brothers aren't making each other cry, they're conspirators.

All, right - it's been a few days since I started my, "I am open-hearted" Sankalpa. It's going fine in that several times per day, I tell myself, "I am open-hearted." I've been doing this in tense moments, especially, and I think the intentionality helps me maintain my stance. Let's hope.

I'm expecting more tense moments today, as kids are going to start using glue guns for a project.

Glue guns?!

My co-teachers love projects. And of course, I do too. Right now we're working on an art installation designed to spark a community dialogue about the issue of immigration. What could be cooler than that?

It's just that we've reached the adhesive stage of the project. When we get to adhesives, the nausea kicks in. Last year, it was velcro and spray glue. Holy hell. The year before that it was duct tape and some other kind of glue. Not much better. In fact, I seem to have blocked the memory of the exact type of adhesive, but I know there were also stencils and black paint. Anyway, after fifteen minutes of gluing, I feel like I'm going to hurl. I get hot and twitchy, and I start to yearn for grammar worksheets and silence.

Luckily, I'm open-hearted, and every year I participate in planning a project that will be rewarding for students and our school community, and that will make me suffer.

See?! Sankalpa!

Project Land. This is the extended version of what I'm describing above.

I think Shef must hate projects, too. This is the story of his very first one at age four.

I love goals, to-do lists and resolutions. I also love this sankalpa thing I started doing because Lee was doing it in 2014. As I said last year, "Sankalpa comes from yoga, with its origins all the way back in the Vedas, and it's about awakening your true nature."

So, instead of saying, for instance, "I resolve to be more open-hearted," you tell yourself (and the world) that you already have that wonderful quality within you. You're just practicing embodying it.  As it happens, My 2016 sankalpa is actually, "I am open-hearted."

The thing is, I usually do embody an open-heartedness, but in the past year, I've found myself feeling more guarded. Sometimes, I think guarded can be a smart stance, especially if you're doing something really scary or dangerous, like scaling a rock face without equipment. But, if you're always walking around preparing for an impact (as in a car crash or getting hit with a medicine ball), I think you might be missing out on some cool and fulfilling connections.  I've been working against the impulse to close up with the motto, "You can't do it if you don't try to do it." 

In the month of January, though, instead of talking myself into being vulnerable and open-hearted, I'm going to just be that. Be my true self. "That sounds really emo," my birth father told me when I explained it. It's true. But, personal change with staying power just is kind of emo. 

Also in 2017, besides being open-hearted, I'm also finishing my book. Just saying. That's a goal or a resolution. I'll probably achieve it by using my previous sankalpas, which were "I am intentional," and "I am a creative risk-taker." This is good.


The creative risks in addressing the symptoms of puberty

"Writing is easy and fun for me."

• Write Time by Kenneth Atchity - A definitive, yet gentle guide to completion and publication.
• The Taliban Shuffle by Kim Barker - Alternately appalling and amusing.
• The Gifts of Imperfection by Brené Brown - The excellent TED talk on vulnerability suffices.
• The Big Thing by Phyllis Korkki - A charming, quirky, and helpful menu of motivational strategies.
• American Ghost by Hannah Nordhaus - Loved the ghost story; endured the history and geneology.
• The Year of Yes by Shona Rhimes - Like the sentiment, not sure about the style.
• Still Writing by Dani Shapiro - An affecting but somewhat gloomy portrait of the writer's life
• Lafayette in the Somewhat United States by Sarah Vowell - Cool sentences and word choices. I'm not into history enough to love it.

It's that time! I'm reviewing my year in reading starting today!

I've done a lot of writing about reading this year. In many cases, I've written about these books in the newsletter, in Writerly Wednesday, on Goodreads, or at Literary Quicksand, the book blog to which I contribute. So, I'm lifitng some sentences from myself for these blurbs. It's fine.

Here are the stats: I've read 63 books this year, including 17 audiobooks. This was an interesting year for audiobooks in that there were several books I loved, but that I wished I'd read on paper.  So, here are the best five audiobooks - books that do really well in this format - in alphabetical order by author.

Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson. Narrated by Jeannie Stith.
Anderson is a master at writing teenaged girls with real and scary problems. Two years ago, I had this author on my list for The Impossible Knife of Memory, about a girl whose dad suffers from PTSD. In Wintergirls, eighteen year-old Lia details her spiral into mental illness and near-fatal anorexia. Her conditions intensify following the death of her ex-best friend Cassie, herself a bulimic who had called Lia 33 times on the night she died. Lia's pain gives rise to a raging fantasy life that terrified me and held me transfixed. Narrator Jeannie Stith conveyed Lia's desperation and confusion believably.


The Boys in the Boat by Daniel James Brown. Narrated by Ed Herrmann.
Brown's work is a riveting emotional portrayal of individual sacrifice and team dedication against the backdrops of the Great Depression and the rise of Hitler. Brown's primary subject is Joe Rantz, a sympathetic underdog from rural Washington, who together with eight other guys from the UW crew team, aim for the 1936 Berlin Olympics. As narrators go, Ed Herrmann ranks among the best I’ve heard. He emotes without condescension or smarm. Nothing in his performance – not even the closest of crew races – seems overdone. Full review at Literary Quicksand.




Just Kids by Patti Smith. Narrated by the author.
Smith's memoir, the story of her creative partnership with Robert Mapplethorpe, is a hypnotic and spare tribute to the artist's life.  Smith's writing floats along conversationally, deceptively simple. You're just reading, taking in the stories about art and life in the 1960s and 70s, until you’re  stunned by the beauty of a particular sentence. It happens over and over again. I loved hearing Smith reading this herself. At one point in the recording, she sings a few bars, and I had chills. Full review at Literary Quicksand.




The Martian by Andy Weir. Narrated by R.C. Bray.
The Martian is totally not my kind of book. In a super-sciency sci-fi novel (originally published serially on a blog!), Mark Watney gets left behind on Mars by his crew who understandably mistakes him for dead. As he's not dead, he describes his situation - the compromised equipment, the dearth of food, the loneliness and isolation. Watney's first person narration, interspersed eventually with vignettes of NASA problem-solvers on earth, kept me listening. R.C. Bray delivers it with a perfect deadpan, accentuating the strong humor (and strong language). This is a funny thriller with a happy ending, great for a road-trip with teens.




The One-in-a-Million Boy by Monica Wood. Narrated by Chris Ciulla.
My takeaway from this book is that "It's never too late." An odd eleven year-old Boy Scout befriends Ona Vitkus, a 104 year-old woman whom he convinces to both record memories ("shards" of her life) on tape AND to pursue a Guinness World Record (World's Oldest Licensed Driver). This is not a spoiler, as it happens right away: the eleven year-old dies of heart failure, and the 104 year-old befriends his sometimes-absent father, Quinn, who takes over the scouting duties. Chris Ciulla effectively conveys Quinn's crushing grief, the boy's lingering recorded voice, and Ona's high, breathy sarcasm, as well.




Here are the other audiobooks I listened to this year in alphabetical order by author. 
This year, I'm including a short blurb! Links go to full reviews I wrote for Literary Quicksand.

• A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman - Charming, gimmicky, saccharine, and ageist.
• The Lincoln Lawyer by Michael Connelly - Good writing, good plotting, fun characters.
• Outline by Rachel Cusk - Filmy, dreamy, too smart.
• Sweetbitter by Stephanie Danler - I admire the book, but not the narration. Read the paper.
• Cartwheel by Jennifer duBois - Engrossing, page-turning, self-important.
• A Sudden Crush by Camilla Isley - Frothy, frivolous, fairty-tale fun
• Be Frank with Me by Julia Claiborne Johnson - Far-fetched, but endearing.
• Great House by Nicole Krauss - Serious, layered, accomplished, complex- read the paper.
• Truly, Madly, Guilty by Liane Moriarty - Not my favorite Moriarty, but she's still my favorite.
• After You by JoJo Moyes - Great fun to revisit Louisa Clark. A satisfying sequel.
• Lafayette in the Somewhat United States by Sarah Vowell - Cool sentences and word choices. I'm not into history enough to love it a lot.
• The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead - An important book about whiteness, blackness, and the enduring trauma of American slavery. Read a paper copy.