Book lovers in our community felt disappointed—and frankly, guilty—when word went around last winter that Bay Leaf Books was closing. The store, filled with an assortment of carefully selected, meticulously organized, high-quality used books, had graced Newaygo's main street for more than three years, after moving from nearby Sand Lake. We all loved having a bookstore in town. Maybe we just didn't love it enough. That's where the guilt came in. If only we'd visited more often, bought more books, might that have made a difference? As the initial shock wore off, our conversations turned from what we should have done to what we still could do. Was it too late to rescue the shop? If not, how could we do it? Most of us were still thinking in terms of buying more books—maybe even pledging to purchase a certain number a month. John Reeves had a bigger idea: buy the whole, honkin' store. He paid a visit to owner Gabe Konrad, who told him recent life changes had prompted the decision to close the brick-and-mortar store and concentrate on his mail-order book business. The two men kicked around some numbers, and John left, excited with the idea of recruiting friends to go in together on the store. "It turned out only one was interested," John says. So John, his wife Marsha and the friend pooled their money, and Flying Bear Books was born. It took some doing for Flying Bear to achieve liftoff, however. "In my mind, I was going to buy a bookstore, turn the lights on, open the doors and sell books," John recalls, laughing now at the thought. "We were thinking, we'll move a little furniture, create a comfortable place where people can hang out," adds Marsha. "As we got into it, it was clear there was more and more that we wanted to do. That's when it struck us that, oh, this is a big project!" The biggest "to-do" was entering all the books into a database, to keep tabs on what kinds of books are selling best. Previous owner Gabe, who's been selling books through catalogs and specialty shows for more than 20 years, knew the store's inventory inside and out. John and Marsha, on the other hand, were not only getting acquainted with the store's contents, they were brand new to the book business. Unlike "book guy" Gabe, "we're just readers," says Marsha. John researched software packages, decided on one, and started entering books, with the goal of having 10,000 cataloged by the store's March 1 opening. The process turned out to be so time-consuming, only 2,000 had been entered by then. While John focused on the inventory, Marsha coordinated painting, cleaning, rearranging and signing up artists to sell their work in the shop. Neither labored alone, though. "We put out the word that we could use any help we could get, and people showed up weekend after weekend," says Marsha. "It was so heartwarming. I just felt embraced by the community." Two helpers, Rod Geers and MaryAnn Tazelaar, stayed on to work part time. Other friends have volunteered to pitch in when John and Marsha go on vacation. The new bookstore owners are committed to maintaining the same high standards that Bay Leaf Books was known for, and the store's organization is the largely the same. "Gabe's thinking was, if he had three books on a topic, he would create a section for it with a shelf card. That was his criterion," says John. "So we don't throw cards away, we keep them even if we might run out of the three books in that area, because I might go to a sale and find three more books on that subject." The strategy pays off in sales, he adds. For example, "one young lady in her twenties came in looking for books on how to survey land. It turned out we had four books on surveying. She bought three." The Reeveses did move the military section from the front of the store to the center "to soften the entry," says John. They also hope to increase the indigenous section, with a special sub-section for Anishinaabe literature.
As for other directions, time will tell. "For me, it's a learn-as-you-go process," says John. "Every day I'm learning something new about books or how they're categorized." Or, he says, popping up and rushing to the front window, "learning to turn over the OPEN sign." The biggest surprise so far: "It's a business, and I have to start thinking of it like a business." He's brainstorming ideas to draw in customers—perhaps a book club or a more informal monthly get-together where people just talk about whatever they're reading. He'd also like to find ways of supporting local authors and working with schools and community groups. All of which makes it clear this undertaking is not just a business proposition to its new owners. For Marsha, holistic nurse with an interest in all aspects of healing, changing the store's layout and getting it working in a different way was "a form of healing." And, she adds, "I know that there's healing that goes along with learning, and there are a lot of opportunities for people to learn here." What's more, owning the bookstore is just plain fun—way more than John and Marsha expected. "Every day, John comes home with a story about something funny or about helping a kid who came in with a cool question," says Marsha. "It's really a delight." Flying Bear Books is located at 79 State Road in Newaygo. Hours are Tuesday through Saturday, 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. Phone: 231-414-4056.
Bay Leaf Books still operates as an online bookseller. Visit here.
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Sunshine smiled on the Enchanted Forest, AKA Camp Newaygo, for at least part of last Saturday, but Sunday's downpours had fairy-folk scrambling to take shelter under toadstools. No worries, though. Quick-thinking Camp Newaygo staffers whisked gnome homes and pixie palaces out of the wet woods and into drier hiding places, where twinkly lights made fairy-house hunting just as enchanting. The occasion was the two-day Enchanted Forest walk, a fundraiser for the independent not-for-profit camp located on 104 acres along a chain of lakes in the Manistee National Forest region of mid-western Michigan. Last year's Enchanted Forest event was a great success, and this year's appeal to artists and craftspeople to create and donate fairy houses again yielded a fanciful assortment of tiny abodes—forty-seven in all. It's always fun to see what imaginative people use to craft these dwellings: tree stumps, gourds, clay, copper wire, twigs, feathers, tin cans. One of this year's creations was made from a cowgirl's boot. Another had a hornet's nest worked into the design. Ray and I got a close look at many of them when we helped hide the homes in the woods and along the Wetland Trail early Saturday morning. Then, as visitors began arriving and heading out with trail maps, we made the rounds again to watch them discover the little houses. We had fun watching visitors' reactions to our own creations, too, both the fairy house and the story that went along with it. "We were so excited to see families outside and enjoying the houses that were hidden on the trails," said Christa Smalligan, the camp's Events and Facilities Director. "Camp Newaygo is a great place for families to enjoy activities together. I heard many kids found some fairies in the woods." If you missed out on the enchantment—or if you'd like a chance to relive it--here's a look at more of the fairy houses and the weekend's fun. And if you'd like a fairy house for your very own, all the houses pictured here--and more--are available for purchase on ebay through May 8. Proceeds help fund the camp's youth and family programs as well as renovations to facilities such as the Foster Arts and Crafts Lodge. If the news of the day has been getting you down, here's one bulletin that's guaranteed to inspire: FAIRYLAND, Newaygo County (March 1, 2017)—In spite of last year's housing boom in the Enchanted Forest (also known as Camp Newaygo), officials report a serious shortage of sprite-sized housing. "Thanks to the artistry of local supporters, the fairy homes that sprang up in our forest last year were so attractive, they were all immediately occupied by pixies, gnomes, sylphs and all manner of tiny creatures," says Elvira Elf, housing coordinator. "We’re expecting an influx of fairy folk soon, as they return from their winter homes down South. We're asking everyone to pitch in again to create a forest full of houses to welcome them back." After receiving the news, fairy-house builder Wildwood Ray was spotted heading for his workshop with an armload of mysterious materials. "This is one call to action it's impossible to ignore," he said. Bet you can't ignore it either! So start gathering twigs, moss, stones and anything else that strikes your fancy, and get busy creating. Houses are due April 15 (you can drop them off at Camp Newaygo or call 231-652-1184 to schedule a pick up). Guidelines are listed below. The fairy houses, gnome homes, pixie palaces and elfin abodes will be hidden in the forest surrounding the camp, and during the Enchanted Forest Event, April 29 and 30, visitors can wander the woods with a trail map, searching for the houses and trying to spot their secretive inhabitants. Cookies and punch will be supplied for house-hunting fortification, and for an additional fee, young visitors will have a chance to create their own handiwork at a craft table. All the fairy houses will be auctioned on eBay afterward, so you can pick out a favorite to take home. (Don't forget to make a wish for a fairy to come along with it!)
Camp Newaygo is an independent, not-for-profit camp located on 104 acres along a chain of lakes in the Manistee National Forest region of mid-western Michigan. In addition to offering a girls' residential summer camp and a coed day camp, the camp provides year-round community events: dinners, girlfriend getaways, winter sleigh rides and more. Last year, organizers hoped the first Enchanted Forest event would bring in twenty-five to thirty little dwellings. They received forty-two houses, and a total of 627 visitors toured the forest over the two days. Here are this year's guidelines for building your fairy house:
The Enchanted Forest tour is April 29 and 30, 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. Cost is $7 per person or $25 per family of four. The make-and-take craft table will be available from 10 a.m. to noon on the 29th, for an additional charge. No advance registration necessary; please pay at the door. For additional inspiration, see these posts on last year's Enchanted Forest event:
Fairies and pixies and gnomes, oh, my! The News from Lake FaeBeWell Exploring the Enchanted Forest What do farming and art have in common? A lot more than you might think, say Mike and Amanda Jones of Maple Moon Farm in Shelby, Michigan. To underscore the connection, they're sponsoring a FEED THE STARVING ARTIST contest with the theme, "Local Food and Local Farms" and a prize of a $250 gift card to the farm. "The idea was really born out of a desire to increase community connections," says Amanda. "One of the reasons we farm is, we really enjoy having that direct relationship with the people who eat our food. Another element is, we feel that we ourselves bring an artistic element to farming. We wanted to draw on that bond with other artisans, whatever their art form, to create connections and a stronger community." Artists and artisans have until March 4 to register, either by emailing Mike and Amanda at maplemoonfarm@gmail.com or by stopping by their booth at Sweetwater Local Foods Market in Muskegon, Saturdays from 9 a.m. to noon. Anyone planning to enter needs to let the Joneses know the type of art and the size of the piece, so they can plan for enough display space at the market on March 11, when voting will take place. If registering by email, please send a photo of the entry. The entries themselves may be dropped off at the farm or brought to the market on the 11th, when market shoppers will cast ballots to select a winner. "We just ask that anyone bringing their art on the 11th have it there by 9 a.m., when the market opens," says Amanda. Entries of all sorts are welcome, she adds. "When someone is practicing something from the heart and really putting an element of themselves into what they create, we view that as being an artisan. We wanted to leave the definition broad to be as inclusive as possible." The only criterion is that all works should be related in some way to the theme of local food and local farms. The winner will be announced at the market's close on the 11th and will also be featured on Maple Moon's Facebook page. "The winning piece, we will keep in exchange for the gift certificate," says Amanda. Other entries should be picked up at the market after results are announced on the 11th. For budding artists and coloring enthusiasts of all ages, there's a coloring contest, too! Coloring pages are available from Mike and Amanda on market days at Sweetwater Market. Market shoppers will also vote on coloring contest entries on the 11th, and the winner will receive a generous gift basket from the farm. The couple hopes the contests will forge new connections between local food producers, artists and other members of the community. "We're hoping this will draw in people who haven't been connected with their local farmers market and that others who identify as artisans will connect with this local resource and see the parallels in what we do. Our community thrives when people are able to do what they truly love. It makes us happier people and benefits everybody as a whole. If we are able to support each other in doing what we love, it's a win-win for everybody." Love is a big part of Mike and Amanda's approach to farming, says Mike, who grew up in Newaygo County family that gardened and raised animals. "We believe growing plants is an art form more than a job. We treat every plant with respect to get the best-quality produce . . . Everybody talks about their grandparents' garden and how they raised the best-tasting tomatoes. There's a reason for that: the plants were getting all the love and attention they had. When you're putting that kind of attention into the food, you get the best quality." Maple Moon has used organic growing practices from the beginning and is currently certified organic. Though the farm's output has grown in the seven years since its beginning, Mike and Amanda want to keep it small enough that they can still be hands-on, rather than hiring other people to do the work. "If we stay small, we can have more control over how plants are loved," Mike says. "Our primary goal is to grow things that taste the best." The Joneses grow "most vegetables you can think of," including "lots of heirloom tomatoes," but specialize in greens and herbs, both culinary and medicinal, says Amanda, who grew up in suburban Detroit, but took an interest in food and farming in her late teens. She arranged to work for six weeks on Nothing But Nature farm in Ohio and ended up staying more than three years. Consumer interest in organic and locally-produced and foods is on the rise, but with those foods increasingly available in supermarkets, many shoppers don't visit farmers markets. Amanda wants to remind them there are still good reasons to buy directly from growers. "You're not only getting fresher food, but you're also creating a relationship with the person," she says. "I know our food has to be good and clean, because I know the people who are going to use it. I see their children. I've watched babies grow up on the food. Sometimes when I'm out in the field, harvesting or working on a crop, I think of the people who come to the market who love it. That creates better connections and better health for everyone involved." Sweetwater Market operates at the Mercy Health Lakes Village, 6401 Prairie St., Norton Shores, and is open Saturdays from 9 to noon. Maple Moon Farm is located at 1224 S. 144th St., Shelby, Michigan. Phone: 231-861-2535 Photos courtesy of Mike and Amanda Jones
So here we are, one month into 2017. Remember those intentions you started the year with? Those goals you were going to pursue and ideals you were going to embody? How's that working out? For all the resolve we start the year with, it's easy to get sidetracked. That's why I try to reboot my resolutions (or intentions, if you prefer that concept, as I do) from time to time. If one of your intentions is to build connections with other people, my friend and former coworker Colleen Newvine Tebeau has some great suggestions for enjoyable ways to make that happen. Colleen is a journalist turned MBA whose marketing consulting firm helps small and mid-sized businesses with practical strategy and tactics. She's also one of the most joyfully social people I know. So when I read a recent post in her blog, Newvine Growing, about cultivating friendships, I knew I had to share it with you. Colleen lives in Brooklyn, New York, but her suggestions work just as well if you live in a small town. Maybe you don't have a neighborhood cocktail bar to frequent, but you're probably not far from a coffee shop or café. But before I give away any more of her tips, I'll turn you over to Colleen. Here's her post on building social connections. Make this the year you value your relationships by Colleen Newvine If you're making resolutions, I’d like to recommend you aim for a different ambition than the typical "lose 10 pounds" or "quit smoking." Focus, for a change, on increasing and improving your connections to other people. Why? A New York Times article headlined, “How Social Isolation Is Killing Us,” said in part: Social isolation is a growing epidemic—one that’s increasingly recognized as having dire physical, mental and emotional consequences. Since the 1980s, the percentage of American adults who say they’re lonely has doubled from 20 percent to 40 percent. About one-third of Americans older than 65 now live alone, and half of those over 85 do. People in poorer health—especially those with mood disorders like anxiety and depression—are more likely to feel lonely. Those without a college education are the least likely to have someone they can talk to about important personal matters. A wave of new research suggests social separation is bad for us. Individuals with less social connection have disrupted sleep patterns, altered immune systems, more inflammation and higher levels of stress hormones. One recent study found that isolation increases the risk of heart disease by 29 percent and stroke by 32 percent. Another analysis that pooled data from 70 studies and 3.4 million people found that socially isolated individuals had a 30 percent higher risk of dying in the next seven years, and that this effect was largest in middle age. Loneliness can accelerate cognitive decline in older adults, and isolated individuals are twice as likely to die prematurely as those with more robust social interactions. These effects start early: Socially isolated children have significantly poorer health 20 years later, even after controlling for other factors. All told, loneliness is as important a risk factor for early death as obesity and smoking. If you need more convincing, I suggest you read the full article by Dhruv Khullar, a resident physician at Massachusetts General Hospital and Harvard Medical School. How to get started? Consider throwing a party I love hosting parties, from intimate dinner parties to jam-packed cocktail parties. When people come to our parties, they sometimes say wistfully, "You’re so good at this. I wish I knew how to throw a party like this." Here's the truth: I began throwing parties in part because I was lonely. When my ex-fiance and I broke up, I realized I didn’t have close girlfriends to commiserate with, and I made a conscious decision to cultivate friendships. It felt less threatening to invite women I didn’t know well for a group gathering than to ask one out for a girl date over coffee or drinks. I began hosting clothing swaps because inviting people to join me for an activity felt like a more attractive offer; they didn’t have to want to hang out with me, they just had to want some free gently used clothes. I wasn’t experienced at hosting but I learned as I did it more. Slowly some of those women became friends, and I still host clothing exchanges two decades later. If you feel shy about asking someone for one-on-one plans, consider hosting a small group at your place. If you don't click with anyone who comes, you can casually drift to another conversation or excuse yourself to tend to some unspecified task in the kitchen. Hosting doesn’t have to mean a lot of work. When the economy tanked in 2008, we hosted happy hours at home to give our friends a less expensive way to socialize. We'd tell people to bring whatever they wanted to drink and eventually we’d order pizza and ask people to kick in. That’s really it. All we offered was the venue. You could invite a couple of people to watch movies and get food delivered or throw a frozen pizza in the oven. Host a potluck dinner. Set up an activity you’d like to do anyway—make beer or jewelry, do scrapbooking, get out your musical instrument—and ask acquaintances you’d like to know better or friends you don’t see often enough to join you. If you’d like to try hosting, here are a few posts I’ve written with suggestions: Become a regular at a bar or coffee shop near you Socializing at home isn’t the only option, of course. You can enjoy a bar, cafe, coffee shop or other gathering place near you. Ray Oldenburg wrote a book called The Great Good Place in 1989 that spoke of the "third place"—someplace that's not home and not work, but another spot where you connect with your community. Going to your third place isn't just about scheduling a date to meet people you already know but about chatting with whoever’s there. That means putting down your phone, making eye contact and opening yourself up to strangers. The development of the individual depends on meeting people from different walks of life, and getting to know them. That's good for the individual, and it's good for the community. Coffee shops are great, and bars are great—they offer an edge because of what you consume, and you can relax and warm up to other people. In a recent interview in Imbibe magazine, Oldenburg said: The development of the individual depends on meeting people from different walks of life, and getting to know them. That’s good for the individual, and it’s good for the community. Coffee shops are great, and bars are great — they offer an edge because of what you consume, and you can relax and warm up to other people. We feel fortunate to have fallen deeply in love with a cocktail bar a block from our apartment. It's a place where we go to celebrate as well as to sulk or mourn, and where we feel welcomed and cared for, more like family than customers. It's the first time in our lives we truly feel like regulars someplace. It took trial and error to find the right place and to connect beyond a simple business transaction. Here's some of what worked for us in finding our local hangout:
My husband, John Tebeau, is writing a book about 50 great New York bars, not places with the very best cocktails or the hippest places, but bars that are beloved gathering places. Visiting dozens of bars to scout them for his book has given us copious practice engaging with barkeeps and regulars, and as someone who used to find sitting at the bar intimidating, I can tell you that the more you do it, the easier it gets. I’ve learned to read the body language of patrons open to chatting and to gauge when a bartender has time to socialize versus needing to focus on the task at hand. Like hosting parties, it gets easier the more you do it. Bring a social element to something you'd do anyway Ari Weinzweig, co-founder of Ann Arbor institution Zingerman's, taught a webinar on time management last year that was beautifully philosophical—it wasn't about shoehorning more productivity into each day but about living well by prioritizing how we spend our time. One of the practical pointers Ari gave was to combine priorities so he can accomplish more things he values simultaneously. For example, if you want to exercise and you want to socialize, work out with a friend. My husband, John, had a standing racquetball date with a co-worker twice a week when we lived in Ann Arbor. That's part of why we're still friends with his racquetball partner, Bob, two decades later. I once read about two moms who swapped helping each other clean. They'd both spend an hour cleaning one family's house, talking as they did it, then they'd switch to the other house. It turned a grudge task into bonding time. What do you do—or what would you like to do—that could work as a social activity? Make it a priority to show people you love them I hear a lot of people, especially in go-go-go New York City, saying they just don’t have time to socialize. They work long hours, wrapped in a long commute on each side, then maybe they have the demands of parenting waiting at home. I get that you might already feel you don’t have enough hours in the day, and squeezing in a brunch date sounds more stressful than relaxing. But if you value your relationships, can you prioritize maintaining those connections enough to make time? Is there something you’re doing that you could ditch to make room for friendships, or could you make better use of downtime? Can you combine socializing with another activity, like Ari suggests? I have one friend with a high powered job who leaves substantive voicemails, so I feel connected even if we didn’t get to chat. Another friend who travels a lot sends thoughtful texts about something happening on the trip or something that reminded him of me. A successful business owner friend routinely leaves cheerful comments on my Facebook posts. They’ve found ways to fit connection into their busy lives. John and I spend a few hours every couple of weekends calling and writing people we love. We send postcards and texts as we drink our coffee. We value this enough that we schedule it in our shared Google calendar. Excellent ideas, Colleen! And I know many HeartWood readers have come up with great ideas for connecting with others, too—from the women's hiking club to dominoes games and craft nights. Share them here, and build more connections in the process!
When we moved to West Michigan, I envisioned spending the whole stretch of days from December through February cozied up indoors, reading stacks of books, writing, cooking comforting meals, and emerging only to restock the necessary supplies. I wondered if I'd get bored, but I've found I look forward to winter's inward-focused, slower pace as a time to catch up on projects, both practical and creative. I can go days—a week or more, even—without leaving the house and not feel the least bit restless. But here's the problem: interesting things keep going on all winter long in the world outside my cocoon. There are concerts, classes, meetings, lectures, card games, art exhibits, hikes (yes, even in winter, if the weather's not too extreme)—a surprising number of goings-on beckoning me to bundle up and get out. So I weigh the options. Stay put and make progress on the projects I've been itching all summer and fall to get into or go out and enjoy stimulating activities and the company of friends? There are good reasons to go. Study after study has affirmed the health benefits of social activity—boosting brain health and bolstering immunity, for instance. Plus, getting out revs creative engines. As poet Richie Hofmann put it in a 2016 interview, "Sometimes It's important for me to get outside of poetry, or outside of literature altogether. To listen to music, look at a painting or sculpture or installation, see a concert, attend a lecture on something strange but intriguing. These other arts not only provoke new subjects, but they might offer new ways of thinking formally as well." I remember hearing a radio interview with musician and songwriter Allen Toussaint in which he talked about driving around his home city of New Orleans for inspiration instead of sitting in a room and expecting his muse to find its way to that one place. Made sense! Author Annie Dillard also is a big believer in pushing away from the desk and venturing into the world. In nonfiction essays, she has written about such experiences as witnessing a total eclipse and watching a skywriter making loops and barrel rolls and then riding with him. No amount of book research, telephone interviewing or imagination could have produced the memorable images and perspectives of those pieces. Other writers who studied with Dillard learned the same habits. "She encouraged us to get out into the world, which explains at least one afternoon I spent playing video games with the owner of a local baseball-card store, in order to write a profile of him," recalled Maggie Nelson in a 2016 article in Poets & Writers magazine. Inspiration and verisimilitude weren't Dillard's only motivations. Service was another. She volunteered in a soup kitchen for ten years and thought other writers might do well to follow suit. As she wrote in an email to writer John Freeman, cited in the same Poets & Writers profile, "Working in a soup kitchen is great for a writer or any artist. There are many unproductive days when you might hate yourself otherwise. You are eating the food, using the water, breathing the air—and NOT HELPING. But if you feed the hungry you can't deny you're doing something worth doing." Author, filmmaker and social activist Toni Cade Bambara had a similar attitude toward community involvement, as poet Nikki Finney recounted in a 2015 article in The Writer's Chronicle. Finney and Bambara were at a bus stop in Atlanta when a bus driver recognized Bambara as "the writer lady" and asked if she would help him and his wife fill out papers they needed to complete to buy a house. Finney expected Bambara to politely decline, but she said "Sure," and told the man when to come over. "I stepped back and said, 'That's what a writer is,' " Finney recalled. "A writer is somebody who sits at her desk and creates these worlds—beautiful, troubling, tough, real worlds. And then, when she gets up from her desk and she goes to the grocery store or the garden, somebody asks for help in a real way from her. And she says, 'yes.' That's the writer I want to be. I want both those worlds." So many good reasons to leave home and enlarge one's life. Yet there's another side. Too much go-go-go and social interaction can be wearying, and for introspective types, stressful. The need for solitude is a hallmark of introversion, I've learned, and I've also come to appreciate that introversion is no better or worse than extroversion. It's simply a trait that deserves to be recognized and respected. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with wanting your alone time to outweigh your social time," writes Elizabeth Enochs in 5 Signs You're Fighting Your Introverted Nature on the website Bustle. "Introverts genuinely need their alone time. Solitude is crucial for us, because while social interactions may energize our extroverted loved ones, they drain us introverts. So don't feel guilty for loving your alone time so much that you occasionally turn down invites to go out. If you're failing to give yourself the solitude you naturally require to re-charge your batteries, know that this is not only unnecessary, it's unhealthy." As with so many things in life, the key is striking the right balance. Whether you thrive on activity and a swirling social life or cherish seclusion, learn to recognize when you've had too much or too little of what you require, and tailor your activities accordingly. Sophia Dembling, author of The Introvert’s Way: Living a Quiet Life in a Noisy World, put it this way in a 2013 Huffington Post article: "There’s a recovery point that seems to be correlated with how much interaction you’ve done. We all have our own private cycles."
For me, that feels like the right balance. What feels right for you? All images on this page are free-use, stock images.
In the 1988 movie "Funny Farm," Chevy Chase's character Andy Farmer—hoping to make a good impression on prospective buyers of the property he's trying to sell—bribes local folks to turn their town into a cheery, Christmas-y village worthy of Norman Rockwell and Currier & Ives. Carolers, sleigh rides, guys in Santa suits, the works. If only he'd bought that property in Newaygo instead of Vermont, he wouldn't have had to go to so much trouble and expense. Newaygo's annual Christmas Walk, part of a multi-day holiday celebration, comes complete with twinkly lights, horse-drawn wagon rides, roasted chestnuts, carols—and crowds! The first time Ray and I attended the event, just after moving here, we weren't expecting much. While Newaygo had a lovely little shopping district, we'd never seen it exactly bustling, especially in winter. We figured we'd join a few other hardy souls watching the Christmas tree lighting, wander into a shop or two to snag the free cookies we'd heard about and call it a night. Imagine our astonishment when we turned onto the main street and found ourselves in the midst of a traffic jam. Cars were backed up in both directions trying to get into town, and people were already spilling onto the streets. When we finally managed to park and join the crowd, we were swept up in the festivity. I guess that's what keeps drawing me back year after year. On the face of it, it's hard to explain the appeal of shuffling down the sidewalk with several hundred other people, jostling to get into shops that are usually easy to access but are mobbed on this night, taking in sights, smells and sounds—the tree lighting, the roasted chestnuts, the holiday songs—that change little from year to year. All I can say is, it's a night that blends memories of long-ago Christmases with anticipation of the coming season and makes the ordinary seem special. A big part of the pleasure is running into friends on the street, in the shops or in the churches and the historical museum, which have special events and exhibits. So what if I just saw those friends a few days earlier—or that very afternoon? Everyone seems even friendlier at the Christmas Walk. After our first experience with Christmas Walk traffic, we've made a point of arriving early and grabbing a bite in a local eatery. This year it was Newaygo Brewing Co., which was decked out with Christmas ornaments artfully hung from the chandeliers and wait-staff wearing embellished holiday sweaters (including one with "Ugly Christmas Sweater" knit right into the design). Then, the slow procession down the street, but with a few new twists this year. The home furnishings store, Sui Generis, had just moved into its big, bright, new location in The Stream building and was holding its grand opening. Seeing the long-vacant corner of that building lit up and lively made for an uptown feeling. Down the street, Fuego, a new-ish fusion restaurant in nearby Grant, had set up a taco stand. When we stopped by, about an hour into the evening, they'd already sold 180 tacos and had to send out for more ingredients. It was heartening to see these local businesses—as well as others up and down the street—attracting customers. A highlight of the evening was the photography exhibit and contest at Newaygo United Methodist Church (and not just because I had two photos in the show). I loved seeing the variety of artistic approaches and subjects—toads to tools, landscapes to loved ones. Apparently a lot of other Christmas Walkers did, too: more than 1,000 people came through the exhibit. When I look at our calendar for the rest of the month, I see days filled with gatherings of family and friends, the local library book sale, and a smattering of meetings and appointments. It'll all be over so quickly, which makes me glad for getting an early start with Newaygo's Christmas Walk. Do you have can't-miss holiday events and activities, or do you try to do something different every year?
I'm not always a sucker for freebies. I can walk right past the bank's basket of free pens, knowing I already have plenty of pens at home. I routinely decline free t-shirts, mugs and other paraphernalia. Just more stuff to accumulate and eventually have to weed out. Books, however, are another matter—I can't pass up a free one unless I'm absolutely sure I'll never read it (and even then I'll probably take it, figuring I can pass it along to someone else). So when I received an email offering a chance at a whole box of books by one of my favorite authors, there was no way I could resist! The email was from author Lene Fogelberg, with whom I became acquainted through She Writes, an online community of women writers. To celebrate the one-year anniversary of the publication of her memoir, Beautiful Affliction, Lene was offering to send a box of copies to each of two book clubs (or other groups of readers). All she asked in return was that readers consider reviewing the book on a platform of their choice, such as Goodreads, Barnes & Noble or Amazon. The first two people to respond on behalf of their book group would get the books. I don't belong to a book club, but my Monday morning yoga group (which still meets to practice weekly, even after the devastating loss of our teacher Ellie) often shares and discusses books during our post-yoga breakfasts. I had read Beautiful Affliction—Lene's gripping account of living with (and almost dying from) an undiagnosed heart condition—soon after it was published. The book quickly became one of my most-recommended memoirs (see my review here), so I jumped at the chance to share it with my yoga sisters. Apparently I jumped quickly enough, because mine was the second response, and in no time, a box of books arrived on our front porch. I passed them out at breakfast last week, and already my friends are talking about starting a discussion group to share thoughts about the book. Meanwhile, Lene (pronounced LEN-ay) has graciously agreed to answer some questions about life as the author of a highly-acclaimed book. How has life changed for you and your family since the publication of Beautiful Affliction? Before publication writing was very private. Now I am also busy engaging with readers, giving interviews, and connecting with people. So I have less time to write nowadays, and I have to be protective of that time, since it is easy to be distracted. There is also increased pressure and expectations to be met, the next novel for example. But I have realized there will always be a "next project" in the works, and I need to find peace in this lifestyle that I have chosen. What have been the biggest surprises—either positive or negative—about being a published author? I have been met with such amazing kindness and generosity, both from readers and fellow authors, which really has taken me by surprise many times. I have received letters from readers telling me how my story helped them that just made me weep. At the same time, the book industry is extremely competitive, even more than I thought it would be, and I think I have developed a thicker skin since publication a little over a year ago. That is the eternal dilemma of writers and poets, to maintain the sensitivity needed to write, in an industry that ultimately, like most industries, is money- and profit-centered. Does being an author connect you with people you otherwise might not have come in contact with? If yes, can you elaborate on the experience and how it has affected you? How do you nurture those connections? Do you ever feel overwhelmed by them? I love to connect with writers and readers, and I am grateful for many new friends that I have met, mostly on-line, this past year. It can be a little overwhelming at times, especially when I am asked to do things that I don't have time for. I have often wished I had more hours at my disposal; it is frustrating to have to say no, when I am finding myself in this business that I love and just want to shout a big Yes! to all the interesting propositions I get. All writers have to deal with discouragement and doubt at times. How have you dealt with those negative emotions? I have learned that many discouragements needn’t be as personal as we tend to make them. The book industry is a very tough market to break into, and every new author has to find his or her own way into it. I keep reminding myself that things will work out, and I try to stay positive at all times. In my experience rejection, even though it hurts, can be an opportunity to find an even better way for you to move forward with your project. After Beautiful Affliction was rejected by some Swedish publishers, I rewrote it in English, found a publisher in the US, and within ten weeks of publication it climbed to #3 on the Wall Street Journal Bestseller list and landed me a contract with a New York Literary Agency. So one never knows what opportunities lie beyond a rejection. It might be for the best. You mentioned the novel you're working on now. Was it difficult to shift gears from memoir writing to novel writing? Is your process any different for writing fiction? For me, every book has its own personality and its own birth process. But I think that on the whole I have found out how I like to work. I put in a lot of work in the beginning; finding a structure, how to tell the story, and then I set out to find the voice. When I have found the tone, I write through the whole story, creating a first draft. Then the story rests. When I am ready to dig in again, I edit it thoroughly, often rewriting and rewording the whole thing, going through it at least two times. The editing takes a lot of time since it is interrupted by research as well as polishing the language and cutting and tightening the story. I try to do most of the substantial editing in the first draft, but there’s always something that leaks into the next phase, some sort of restructuring. In Beautiful Affliction I ended up cutting whole chapters that were in their final edit stage, and I never regretted it. Of course with the novel I feel more free than with the memoir, where I had to stay true to my story. What can you tell us about the novel? It is a hilarious and heartbreaking family drama told by a very unusual protagonist, taking place in Jakarta, where I mix East with West and urban life with ancient myths of Java. You've also returned to writing poetry. On your blog, you wrote about losing touch with poetry during the years that your illness was undiagnosed and then finding your way back. How did finding a way out of illness reconnect you with poetry? When I was dying and no-one (except my husband) believed me, a lot of interests seemed to slowly die with me; for example, I loved to paint and actually wanted to become an artist, but I was too weak to hold up the brush to the canvas. I had to focus my energy on surviving and taking care of our small daughters. I lived in a state of exhaustion and panic, where there was no room for writing poetry. I still feel like it's a luxury to be able to do something that I love, writing, which was the interest that stayed with me the longest through my illness. In that way my illness helped me find my biggest passion, which I am grateful for. But finding my way back to poetry is like finding a piece of myself that has been missing. Maybe one day I’ll also take up painting again. You're a Swedish woman living in Asia, and you've also lived in the US. How do you find and sustain community when you're an "outsider"? Is it important to you to be part of a writing community? If so, where have you found that? I have found writer friends through my blog, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and also through my publisher She Writes Press, where there is a great community among fellow authors. I feel it is a great time to be a writer; the days are gone when a writer had to sit alone in a chamber to write, there are lots of friends to be found out there. My writer friends have been invaluable during the journey of publishing Beautiful Affliction, giving support and advice. In Beautiful Affliction, you detail the formidable health challenges you've faced throughout your life. How do you care for your health now, while meeting deadlines and the other demands of the writing life and family life? I love to go for walks, which is my preferred way of exercise. It clears my mind and lets me plan my writing or follow a trail of thoughts without interruption. In Sweden I went for long walks in the woods. In Asia we have a more urban lifestyle, but I try to go for walks in our neighborhood, especially during the dry season. Now it is wet season, so I have to get out before the rain starts or I’ll have to wait until the next day. In what other ways do you seek—and find—balance in your life? Expat life is a bit unbalanced, living far from extended family and friends. I love hanging out with my husband and our daughters, and we love making new friends in the places we move to. I usually spend my days writing when the girls are in school and my husband is at work, so I can spend time with them when they come home. Is there anything else you'd like to add about Beautiful Affliction, the past year, writing, or life in general? When I wrote Beautiful Affliction I wrote the book I felt that I would have wanted to read during the years when I felt alone and misunderstood. In a way I wrote it for my younger self to help me see beauty even though life can be really, really hard. Early on in the writing process I realized that in order to tell my story honestly, I had to be vulnerable and show some of my most difficult moments. I was very nervous before publication how this would be received, but since then I have had readers write me and tell me how learning about my struggles helped them with theirs, and that made it all worth it. I feel that reading and writing is all about connecting and learning that we are not as alone as we might think. Thank you to Lene Fogelberg for the use of her photographs.
If you're a regular reader of HeartWood, you may have noticed I was absent last week. Like many people, I was absorbing the election results. And though I had written parts of this blog post before the election, I had to think about whether what I had written truly reflected my feelings. I concluded that it does. Don't worry, I'm not going to get all political on you. I might do that in other settings, but that's not what this blog is for. Instead, I'd like to offer something to think about, post-election, no matter how you voted or how you feel about the outcome. One point I think we all can agree on: the events of this election year haven't exactly promoted harmony and understanding among people with differing viewpoints. If anything, our divisions are deeper, our mistrust more pronounced, our fears more troubling. So what now? Do we live with these bad feelings and allow them to fester? Or do we, who purportedly care about connection, goodwill and peaceful conflict resolution, do what we can to turn things in a more positive direction, while still working to further the causes we believe in? I cast my vote for the latter, and I have a suggestion to pass along for how to begin. I can't take credit for the idea. I read about it in a short piece published in O magazine in 2011. The article made such an impression on me, I saved it, and when I re-read it recently, I thought it even more relevant today than when it was written. In the article, author Elizabeth Lesser wrote about "otherising," the distressing and dangerous practice of ordinary people demonizing other ordinary people simply because of differences in opinions, beliefs, or other traits. Like the recent presidential race, the 2008 election saw quite a lot of otherising, wrote Lesser. "And there was one woman doing it who bothered me the most—me! I'm a true believer in our capacity to care and cooperate, but there I was, participating in otherising rants, calling whole groups of people evil wrongdoers, though I had never talked to them." This from a woman who cofounded the Omega Institute and has written books about love, spirituality and transformation! Does Lesser's admission strike a chord? Be honest, now. In recent months, have you found yourself making assumptions and negative remarks about people whose political views differ from yours? I'll be surprised if you say no—I'm sure we've all done some of that.
An experience similar to my canvassing and calling encounters led Lesser to the "experiment" she wrote about in the O article. After lunching with an activist from an opposing camp and conversing cordially about family, jobs and larger concerns, Lesser began to deliberately seek out such meetings, if for no other reason than to "breed civility" in her own heart. She came up with a few ground rules for both parties to agree to (to which I've added a little of my own spin):
You don't have to seek out strangers for these discussions; most of us have friends, neighbors and relatives who feel differently than we do about hot-button issues. I'm not saying these conversations will be easy. It's much more comfortable to speak our minds when we're among people who nod and say, "Exactly!" But when I've dared to step outside that comfort zone and talk openly with friends and acquaintances who don't share my views, I've not only come to understand them better, I've had to think more deeply about my own opinions in order to articulate them. So what do you think about the idea of taking an Other to lunch? Is it naïve to believe it might lead to a little more understanding? Or is it worth a try?
What difference does a difference make? At a recent memorial for a friend and teacher, the speaker posed that question for all of us to consider as we thought about the person whose death we were mourning and whose life we were celebrating. The question came to mind again last weekend when we attended "Leaving a Legacy of Art: The Jansma Collection" at the Dogwood Center for the Performing Arts in Fremont, Michigan. The art show and sale commemorated the lives of longtime Fremont residents Ray and Phyllis Jansma, whose lasting influence on Newaygo County's cultural scene is incalculable. Phyllis was a cellist and music teacher, Ray an architectural designer and artist who painted, sculpted and carved wood. As a tribute to this remarkable couple, their family offered some of Ray's artwork for sale, with a portion of the proceeds to benefit Newaygo County Council for the Arts-Artsplace. Before the sale, I spent some time with Lindsay Isenhart, program coordinator and curator of the Ray and Phyllis Jansma Gallery at Artsplace. A good friend of the Jansmas, Lindsay worked closely with Ray Jansma to produce a book, Ray Jansma: Designer (Blurb, 2011), that chronicles his career and archives many of his artistic works. "The Jansmas were a pivotal influence on my life," Lindsay told me. "I started going out to their house for Tuesdays At Ray's—a Tuesday night drawing group—when I was fourteen years old. At that point in my life, I was a latchkey kid. I could have gone a very different way, but once I started drawing, my whole direction in life changed." The weekly gathering wasn't a class; there were no lectures or formal critiques, just a bunch of local artists and art enthusiasts getting together to practice life drawing and share their creative energy. "I had never seen a cluster of artists working together. Just getting together to do art," recalled Lindsay, who went on to be one of the first recipients of the Ray Jansma Scholarship for Visual Fine Arts, through the Fremont Area Community Foundation, and to study fine arts and graphic design at Kendall College of Art and Design in Grand Rapids and Accademia di Belle Arti in Perugia, Italy. "Through the Tuesday nights, I got to know Phyllis, and on a regular basis went out to what they called Tea Time at the Jansmas," Lindsay said. "People could show up from anywhere at their house during tea time. Phyllis would regale us with stories and talk about politics, and Ray would take me out to his studio afterward." The Jansmas' talents and personalities drew people to them, but their home was an added attraction. Located on a winding road north of Fremont, the house—which Ray designed in the early 1950s—started out as a modest 975-square-foot split level. But as Ray's career grew, so did the house, with additions reflecting the varied styles of his architectural design projects. On one end is a master bedroom suite where the centerpiece was the magnificent carved angel bed offered for sale at the recent event. A tower rises from the middle of the house, looking like something from a storybook. Indeed, guests sometimes felt they were "visiting another world," said Lindsay. "It was like Alice in Wonderland. I got to go to this fairytale place where we were surrounded by art, music, and everything you could imagine to play with." Like the house, Ray's studio was out-of-the-ordinary, decorated with architectural elements from some of his design projects. One side of the studio was originally used for building a sailboat—a 32-foot Tahiti ketch christened the Maid of Ramshorn, which Ray and Phyllis sailed around Lake Michigan and Lake Huron (and Ray sometimes used as a floating office for design jobs in port towns). Once the boat was finished and launched in 1975, the former boat shed became a working space for various art projects, both Ray's and other artists'. "He'd share whatever he had going on, share his studio space, encourage others to come and work there," said Lindsay. The list of working artists who have been influenced by Ray is long and varied and includes Ann Arbor potter Autumn Aslakson; Stratford, Ontario-based illustrator and graphic designer Scott McKowen; ; New Mexico painter Jack Smith; multimedia artist James Magee of El Paso, Texas (who also paints as Annabel Livermore) and many others. "He inspired so many artists because he was always working," said Lindsay. "His work ethic was amazing. He didn't watch TV, didn't golf. He'd be in his studio, working on a project or out sketching barns or downtown businesses or putting in time for our organization. He would come here to Artsplace at least once a week and participate, whether it was just helping paint a sign or helping teach a class, he was hands-on involved." Meanwhile, Phyllis inspired a long line of musicians, not only as a piano and cello teacher, but also through the Chamber Music for Fun program she initiated at Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp in Twin Lake, Michigan. The Jansma children, too, benefited from the creative environment their parents provided. Tim became a violin, viola and cello maker, Jon a chemical engineer for GE, and Jennifer a piano technician who decorated her Ray-designed home with ornamental trim she carved herself and paving stones she hand-cast. "I've never met a family that has made such an impact," said Lindsay. "And to be found in such a tiny little community is a rare thing." The Jansmas made a difference. And what a difference that difference made! Who has made a difference in your life? In your community? What can you do to keep their legacy alive? As you consider these questions, take a look at more of Ray Jansma's artistry.
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Written from the heart,
from the heart of the woods Read the introduction to HeartWood here.
Available now!Author
Nan Sanders Pokerwinski, a former journalist, writes memoir and personal essays, makes collages and likes to play outside. She lives in West Michigan with her husband, Ray. Archives
April 2022
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