1) The PNW is beautiful, but you knew that already.

2) I learned a lot about the various places I visited, particularly because I was couch surfing with locals. This meant that I was calling Vancouver’s Commercial Drive “The Drive” by the end of my first day there, I had noodles at the BEST place in Victoria’s Chinatown, and I pretty much memorized Portland’s main bus routes. Which leads me to. . .

3) I HATE riding buses. Actually, I hate riding buses with 2 forty pound suitcases full of books and clothes. In the future, when in a city for more than 2 days, I will absolutely rent a car. Despite the additional cost, having my own transportation would have saved me huge headaches, showing up at venues sweaty, and many hours I could have been working.

4) Nevertheless, being able to sell books on the road is wonderful, and giving copies to my hosts was wonderful, too. I sold out completely on my last night in town, save one copy that I left for my last hostess. It was good math. Over the whole tour, I sold 33 books from my own stash, and I’m now completely sold out. (But you can still get copies by ordering at indie bookstores or on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Powell’s.)

5) 17 days is a long time to be away from home. I feel like a lightweight for even saying this, knowing how many of my peers are hoofing it around the country for weeks on end, but seriously, as an introvert, I was emotionally exhausted after Day 3.

6) I enjoy teaching workshops immensely.  This is one way to asset my income on the road. Selling 30 books only nets me $450 my whole time away, but by teaching workshops I can make far more. But it’s far more than just income. I like connecting with people, offering my best knowledge, and helping problem solve. I really get a kick out of teaching, and it’s one of the few places where I feel like I get energy whilst in front of a large audience.

7) My LIT! event was received very well in Vancouver and Portland. It’s great fun listening to queer authors share their work. That said, I find throwing events far more nerve-wracking than teaching classes. This is great information for me. In the future, I’ll probably focus on teaching workshops and only do LIT events every once in a while.

8.) With more advanced planning, I’d like to try to ship books to various cities so I don’t have to lug them everywhere.

9) Meeting people is fun.  Again, I’m an introvert, but it’s been great fun meeting rad people through the mutual friends I had in each city

10) Being busy every day is great. Having something every day, while exhausting, is a great way to keep from sinking into a rut.

11) Staying in people’s homes is challenging to my midwestern sensibilities, but really rewarding. I got to reconnect with friends I don’t see very often, eat healthy home cooked meals, and save a lot of cash.

12) Taking alone time is paramount. I started creating boundaries for myself. Since I was staying with friends and I knew I’d want to catch up, I decided to mentally prepare to have two hours of chatting upon arrival, after which I’d set up my bed or go out to a cafe to work.  This helped me get the alone time I so desperately need, while still getting to connect with my buddies.

13) Just do it. There are amazing people everywhere who are looking to connect. I’ve realized that one of my big roles in my writing and publishing endeavors is to act as a permission-giver. So many people are paralyzed by fear when they try to make art or meet people. We create these strange hierarchies in our heads that make those who “do” more worthy than those who don’t.  That is simply bullshit. A published writer is just a bit further ahead down the same path you’re traveling on. It doesn’t make them better, it usually just means that they laced their boots up faster and started jogging.  You can get to the same destination if you just start taking steps.

14) The same goes for events.  If you don’t have the community you want in your town, make it. Give people a reason to get out of the house and connect.  This is the driving force behind LIT. While we all like hearing good readings, it’s also important to get the writers to come out to a venue and meet each other.

15) I really, really love teaching creativity. I taught Practical Creativity and Creativity for Radicals while on the road. Both classes allow me to connect with people who are blocked or nervous or otherwise unable to create the art they want to. I love teaching practical tools for establishing a creative practice.  Both of these workshops I’m turning into books, so hopefully even if I’m not visiting your city this year, you can get the good info I’ve created.

16) You don’t need to pack instant coffee when visiting the Pacific Northwest.

17) Learn to rely on the kindness of acquaintances.  Back with the midwestern sensibility thing- I hate being a burden. I’m a wickedly self-sufficient kind of gal, so it sucks to have to ask people for rides or to use their cell phone, or to give me change for the bus. But, most people want to be of service, and it’s fun to help people out.  So, I learned to ask for what I needed and found most people 100% enthusiastic about helping.

18) Poutine is still amazing, after all these years. And nothing will ever make me feel more contented than a Bloody Mary and a dozen oysters.

19) Content is king, but connection is a close second. I taught many workshops and did many readings, and above all, it was important for me to deliver on the promises I made throughout these commitments. Many people asked for my opinion on many things, and it was important for me to listen and offer my best stuff. I’m happy to say that it seems as though I was successful on this. I learned to shut off my inner critic and offer what I know to the extent that I could. That said, it’s almost as important to connect with people. Even if the answer to their question is “I don’t know” or you have nothing to offer except a little bit of your art, showing up and letting people know people like you exist and they have friendly souls along their own path is absolutely huge.

20) I’m still playing catchup. Most of my days were free, whilst I taught or read in the evenings. That said, my work load is pretty hefty and coming home launched me right back into DayJobLandia. If you are waiting for something from me (say, a free bonus when you signed up for my newsletter), I promise I haven’t forgotten, and I’ll get it to you soon.

21) After all the difficulty, I feel very enriched by my experience.  I expanded my social circle to include more rad folks in each city, deepened friendships with people I had only known casually, and spent a lot of time contemplating the kind of artist, educator, and person I want to be in the world.  As a person who usually travels with a backpack and change of shoes, it was harrowing to remake my travel routine into one more suited for a professional writer.  But, as with the writing of Lunatic Fringe, despite the difficult and at times painful experience, I came out of it more resolved than ever that this is the path for me. I want to keep writing books and teaching people what I know, and that conviction is worth more than some sore biceps, lumpy couches, and stinky buses.

I want to offer a sincere thank you to everyone who came out to a workshop, reading, or event along my tour. Special mad love to Kim, Cass, John, Keets, Dawn, Janelle, Mitch, Jillian, Captain, Micki, Jay, Felice, Laura, A.M, Cooper, the readers at LIT!, the staff at She Bop, the Art of Loving, the Jack London, and Rhizome Cafe, and the smarty-pantses at Ooligan Press. Every single one of you was awesome, fun and kind.  I seriously didn’t meet one person that I didn’t sincerely enjoy.  So thank you for reaching out and taking the time to check me and/or my writing out.  If you have any feedback you’d like to offer me about any of the events you attended, always feel free to email me at Moon(at)TalesofthePack.com.

I’m a slow reader and have a pile of to be reads sitting next to my desk.  I’m also a writer, and have an unfinished sequel staring at me with a mendicant blinking cursor.

But when I saw that Jonah Lehrer had a new book about the neuroscience of creativity, I had to read to it right away. In many ways, I think of Lehrer as the kind of neuroscientist I would have been had I stayed with it.  I got my undergraduate degree in Neuro with every expectation I would pursue a career in research and media, particularly among the so-called “higher” processes of the human mind: ecstasy, creativity, love, etc.

But I became too disillusioned too quickly to stick with it. I was quickly convinced that a career in neuroscience meant a lifetime of vivisecting guinea pigs rather than watching my generation’s Picasso’s and Curie’s at work.

It is ennobling that Lehrer is doing the work that I caved on.  He is a scientist who understands the studies he’s quoting, and a writer who cares about his readers’ understanding and entertainment.  In a world oversaturated with weak science reported to small-minded journalists who digest and sound-byte theories and results into rules and genetic predeterminism, it’s beautiful to read a book that gives credence to possibilities over essentialism.

That I chose to become the artist I always expected to study is very much a dream come true.  I never expected I’d have the nerve to make the art. I always expected I would be the servant of the artist, the steward, the translator, the midwife.  Why I chose to, after years of convincing myself otherwise, is something Lehrer actually speaks to in his book.  It is within the mulling that insight is gestated. At 30 I released my first novel, a book I had started writing when I was 27.  Many of my peers, woo-woo and non-woo-woo alike refer to this time of life as the “Saturn Return,” an astrological signifier of a return to one’s purpose- an inward seeking of meaning and calling.  For many, this time is supposedly one of great tumult, when the edifices a person has built between teens and adulthood are questioned, dismantled, and revised. For lucky others, it is a time of sowing seeds, endeavoring new projects, taking leaps whether prepared or not.

I suppose I was lucky to fall into the second category.  At the far end of experiencing my lively and tumultuous 20s in Los Angeles, I found the great love of my life, began writing a book, and abandoned my identity as Steward to the Artist.

My 20s, particularly the middle ones, were a series of non-starters and I found myself seeking, almost desperately, for insight.  I became interested in what I called Secular Ecstasy, again seeking to study the phenomenon of non-religious altered states. To the best of my knowledge, I’m the only person referring to it in such terms, and I do still hope to someday write that book (though I’ll give it to Lehrer if he wants it).   Things like group ritual, dance, hallucinogenic drugs, group sex, events like Burning Man and sweat lodges- I was fascinated and sought out experiences that broke one’s mind out of the mundane.  It’s not hard to see why I would seek these experiences out.  It was a time of great frustration. Although I’ve always been one of the more even-keeled people I know, I was suffering under the great and privileged weight of Too Many Choices. I knew I didn’t want to stay where I was, but contemplating where to go was petrifying.

Thanks in large part to the encouragement of my partner, my parents, and the high opinion and humbling praise of many of my peers and coworkers, I decided to take a leap and write a book.

This is where the stroke of insight Lehrer speaks of rings most true. I have been an “Attempted Writer” for most of my life.  I have notebooks filled with pithy dialogue exchanges, painstakingly painted settings, notions of plot and character.  But never, ever, did I finish anything that wasn’t required for a class.  Not once.  Not even things I thought were fun or worthwhile.  Every story started out the same: doomed to fade and die before completion.

Then one evening whilst the Lesbian Lover was making dinner, I told him of my belief that female werewolves make far more sense than males for a bevy of reasons.  He said, “that sounds like a book” and for some reason, after 27 years of writing single-page starts that amounted to nothing, I wrote and published that novel.

Now, there’s a subtle step between the “aha” and the product (so named a “novel” in my case, but just as easily “painting” “film” or “graphic novel”). That, of course, is the work.  It’s the part that critics dismiss, particularly when referring to pop-culture superstars like Lady Gaga or Kanye.  We focus on the vacuous lyrics and ignore the grueling hard work that goes on behind the scenes.  We see handlers and cash and forget there are non-stop global tours, contracts, and blown vocal chords in the mix. What takes “Aha” to “Product” is the aptly named “Grit.”  This is the key that all artists seem to know inherently and our audiences either never notice or take for granted. Lehrer is right to give it so much credence.  It’s what makes us roll our eyes when we hear of “overnight sensations.”  As Lily Tomlin said of actress and crush-of-my-life Jane Lynch, “It is always a pleasure to see someone become an overnight sensation after 20 years in the business.”
As with so many things, the person who achieves is the one who doubles-down when things get hard.

I’ve often cursed the voices of the Universe in that “It’s just the Universe telling you. . .” kind of way.  Because, how should I know if, when I reach a road block, it’s “the universe telling me” to quit and course-correct or it’s telling me to redouble my efforts and fight through it to my victory?

I’ve raised this question among entrepreneurs and artists enough to know that it’s a common quandary.  Hold or cut bowstrings? Fish or cut bait?

I’ve had this question arrive in many cases, but only when I’m looking for an excuse to change my vector.  I’ve never truly questioned my partnership or my authorship.  To me, it’s a question that never computes.  I fight through the hardships with my partner because I want to wake up next to him for as many mornings as I can muster for as long as possible.  I never question my choice to write books because writing books is the only place I feel 100% myself every damn moment.
Which takes us to another ineffable step of the creative process: the Inner-Rightness.  (Lehrer calls this the “feeling of knowing.”) There is, in every creative’s life (including the creation of partnerships, children, a life heretofore unlived) a moment, a phase, a really shitty year, when we question our choice.  At those points, we have to be able to trust our bodies and minds to tell us what it needs.  I’m drunk at 3am suffering over a plot hole. Do I muscle through? Do I call it a night?
I’m crying holding wedding invitations I’ve yet to drop in the mail. Do I call it off? Do I take a deep breath and take the plunge?
I’m looking at a job offer from Singapore. What the hell do I say?

It’s these intensely personal moments, the answer lying so deep within our subconscious as to appear utterly invisible, when our body/mind tell us what it wants. The hardest part is closing the laptop, flipping off the light, putting down the cell phone, and listening. But there, of course, is where what we call magic happens.

As if it were unclear from this post, I suggest anyone interested in creativity pick up Imagine by Jonah Lehrer.  It’s an easy and inspiring read, more Malcolm Gladwell than James Austin.

It also seems appropriate that I would use this post announce my next endeavor, that I have been keeping an open secret.  I’ve been working on a book called Practical Creativity which shares many of the same philosophies as Imagine, though it focuses more on practical tools a person can implement to aid one’s creative process. At the core of both Imagine and Practical Creativity is the belief that creativity is not external, not deigned by god or endowed by the muse.  It is an process intrinsic to one’s humanity.  By having a functional (or even semi-functional) brain, you have the ability to create art.

I expect to have Practical Creativity available by my 31st birthday- October 3rd of this year, if not much sooner.  And I hope it will help people choose into their own artistry rather than continuing to live lives on the side lines.

Lunatic Fringe is 6 months old!  In the traditional world of publishing, I’d be done touring by now. But, as a spitfire entrepreneur, I’m never done! I hit the road this month to visit colleges, conferences, and teach my favorite classes!  If you’re in Portland, Seattle, Victoria B.C., or Vancouver, read on for details for all my upcoming appearances!

Vancouver & Victoria Workshops

Thursday, April 26 – How to Drive a Vulva – SheBop
Saturday, April 28 – Write to Publish – Portland State University
Monday, April 30 – Self-Publishing 101 – Independent Publishing Resource Center
Tuesday, May 1 – Practical Creativity – Independent Publishing Resource Center
Wednesday, May 2 - Reading from Lunatic Fringe – In Other Words  – FREE!!
Thursday, May 3 – LIT! Queer Literary Night – The Jack London

Sex Nerd Sandra: Oral Sex: Snatch Attack!

CONNIE LINGUS! DINING AT THE Y! WHISPERING IN HER WILLOWS! No matter what you call it, it’s fun! Novelist and sex educator Allison Moon returns to show us “how to drive a Vulva.” Topics include: Sex Positive vs Sex Neutral, Decoding Sex Sounds, The Importance of Pressure, Variety-then-Consistency, Reverse Spock, HOW TO FIND THE CLIT!, Penetration?, Avoiding the Downward Spiral, Bossy Bottoming, Vestibule: The Mudroom of the Vagina, TONGUE TRICKS and Pussy Taste!

Get Allison’s book, “Lunatic Fringe” and follow @talesofthepack on Twitter!

GROUP SEX! EIFFEL TOWERS! DIVING FOR GENITALS! Sex educators Reid Mihalko and Allison Moon school us on Threesomes! Topics: Embracing the awkward, asking for what you want, drug-fueled vs pre-planned , black-belt-impromptu-lesbian-orgy, scrabble n’ sex machines, Gandhi, reverse engineering jealousy, cuckolding, unicorns, fancy positions and Pavlovian cunnilingus! Never a dull moment.

The Quote of the Episode: “In a world of fisting, the one with small hands is king!” ~Dave Ross

A few weeks back sex geeks, led by the illustrious Reid Mihalko of ReidAboutSex.com decided to put our toy collections and heads together and review the sex toys we’ve been meaning to get to for a while.  I did four video reviews of some great adult toys and will be posting a different video each week.  Today, Reid and I review the Wet for Her “Two”, a penetrative toy specifically designed for lesbians. The review is visually safe for work, by the way, but we talk about sex and sexuality in very frank language. So if you don’t want to hear me and Reid talk candidly about our sex lives, you may want to skip this one.

Toy Review Tuesday: Wet for Her “Two” from Allison Moon.