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Lin_with_Abacus_plush

Risky Business

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The last big risk I took involved a fireplace and bunch of money.

Dave and I had just returned home from our latest real estate transaction and we looked at each other like, “What have we done???”

First children generally make decisions in the following ways:

  1. Research something to death
  2. Think about it for awhile
  3. Research some more.
  4. Survey opinions, especially the Google’s
  5. Stress bake and eat an entire pan of brownies
  6. Finally pull the trigger then replay the whole decision-making process asking if they missed any steps

This time, we pulled the trigger fast and put in an offer within 24 hours. We heard back within a day that the seller had accepted the offer with the contingency that we wouldn’t ask questions after the inspection.

Yikes.

Another red flag that would normally send first children running for the hills.

But it was something about that property and we both felt an ease about the decision that could only have been God-breathed and we decided a lot faster than we ever thought possible.

Everything of importance passed inspection and we breathed easier.

Next up: Rip up flooring, interior paint job and a gut of the guest bathroom and kitchen.

And one of the biggest jobs: architect and build a giant gas fireplace in the middle of the family room to replace the old wood burning carousel from the 70’s.

We were working against the clock as we intended to put it up as an AirBnB. Time is money and the mortgage stops for no man.

I knew that fireplace was going to take the longest to order. So that night, I sat in bed and started researching fireplace inserts, only going off of quick memories of the space and trying to find something that checked off “aesthetically pleasing” with a high heat output. And of course, a shoestring budget.

After a few days of research and finding one that I thought would work, I looked at Dave and gulped, “So, I know we’re still a month away from closing and it’s a huge risk, because this whole thing could fall through, but if we order now, we might get it in 2.5 months, which is the tail-end of our reno timeline.”

I really don’t know why Dave trusted me, but that gamble paid off because I believed so hard in what we were doing. The fireplace was still the last component of the project to be finished, but it would have been far longer had we waited to order until the house closed.

I find myself in a similar situation with Kickstarter. What if this DOESN’T fund? It’s a valid question and should be asked often, if anything to just make me re-examine every strategy and every component to bring this campaign to the fullest of its potential.

But I’m also finding myself taking a similar risk as I did earlier with the fireplace. Abacus the Stuffed Bunny is already manufactured and ready to go. So many Kickstarter creators wait until their project is funded to produce their rewards– and there is nothing wrong with that.

But in a warehouse in NJ, there will be 1500 stuffed Abacus bunnies waiting to be shipped out to backers in September. They already exist and I already pulled the trigger.

I believe that much in what I’m doing.

I want to find homes for each and every one and after Kickstarter is through, I’ll bundle them with the book as their own product.

He’s so very cute and maybe next time, I’ll tell you the story of the person I was thinking about when I created his character. This person had a huge influence over my life and has the BEST sense of humor.

Meanwhile, click on the link in the comments below to follow my Kickstarter campaign. You’ll get an email the second it launches. Will she make it…. won’t she???? THE SUSPENSE IS KILLING ME

#kickstartmomsnot #stuffedplush #stuffedplushie #kickstarterreward #kickstarterrewards #kickstartercomingsoon #abacus #projectwelove #gettingready #takingarisk #kickstarterbackers #momsnotwipinyourbum

dav

I’ll Try Your Metaphors With a Side of Idioms, Please

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There is a point at which, (and for some of us that’s multiple times a day) we become acutely aware of our own idiosyncrasies. And nothing brings that into sharper focus than interacting with those from another culture.

Especially we Americans.

This isn’t any sort of guilt trip, but Americans do tend to take up a lot of “space,” physically, verbally and emotionally. It’s deeply rooted in our culture.

Having married into a Chinese family, I can practically reach out and *touch* the Americanisms.

For me, the greatest of those has become my love affair with idioms. I speak in them, I breathe in them and I probably even shower in idioms. Similes and metaphors are what I consume and regurgitate for every snack and meal. Now I just went back and read what I wrote and realize that of course, I did it again.

As I’m writing emails to my Chinese partners who are producing the lion’s share of all materials related to the books and the books themselves, I find myself writing emails, then having to go back and rewrite dozens of times to be more direct and transparent.

These brilliant humans who are speaking and emailing with people all over the world take on the daily challenge of communicating with people who are NOT Chinese.

Me.

And I just don’t want to give them an email filled with literary landmines, thereby making their day more taxing than it has to be.

As you can well imagine, this is extremely hard for a writer.

So I *try* to take off my writer hat and put on my straightforward business hat.

And from what I’ve experienced over the years, Chinese people are so SO gracious. And kind.

I mean, my in-laws have embraced this loud, expressive and passionate American. My mother-in-law speaks of me with fondness. That, my friend, is not me. That is God’s influence in what could be a very divisive scenario. Interracial marriage isn’t for the weak at heart. But it IS for the heart of God, because bridging differences is what He does best.

So as I’m writing to my Chinese manufacturing company, I’m trying so very hard to keep it “business-speak.” I expressed to my liaison that I was nervous about the project because there were a number of moving parts that were new to me.

Mr. Kevin Lau fires back with this:

“Don’t worry, Sara, I got your back.”

WHAAAAAAT?????

Did he just write an American idiom?

Mr. Kevin Lau, sir… you have just opened up the floodgates.

Game is ON. This American is now firing on all idiom-ic cylinders.

From Tianchang, China to Phoenix Arizona, it is now a war of attrition.

Little known fact: Plenty of wars have started for lesser communication breakdowns.

If it came down to an actual war of words, I’d be killed outright.

I’d spend far too long loading my chamber.

So many words… so little time.

While you wait for me to reload, please enjoy this cute picture of Abacus, who is now a stuffed plush. And he will be one of the “rewards” in our Kickstarter campaign in March to raise funds for printing.

#amwriting #writerscommunity #interracialmarriage #interracialcouple #wordsmatter #idiomsinenglish #idiomsandphrases #internationalcommunication #internationalcommunity #momswhowrite #literaryagentsofinstagram #kickstarterlaunch #stuffedplush #abacus #momsnotwipinyourbum #kickstarterrewards 

He’s Happiest When He’s Home

This is David Lin, otherwise known as “Mr. Lin,” “Dr. Lin,” “Husband of Lin Hawthorne,” “Son of John and Sue Lin,” “Favorite Son-in-Law” of James and Susan Hawthorne and dad to “Josh, Sam, TJ and Rachel.” Oh… and “dog dad” to Timmy, Toby and Stetson.
 
It’s his birthday today and he’s a lot of things: He’s an excellent photographer and has an eye for detail. He’s a great teacher and off-the-cuff speaker. He spent a year or two in med school learning how to doctor and he likes a good steak. He loves being outdoors and is an accomplished athlete in things including but not limited to fencing, running and volleyball. He plays the piano and violin and incidentally, studied with teachers at the acclaimed Eastman School of Music.
 
But enough about his resume. Let’s talk about his heart. This is “the good stuff.”
He is curious and gentle with as tender a heart as I have ever encountered. Animals and kids love him. He loves Jesus and is devoted to God’s calling on his life as a dad and husband. He is happiest when he’s home.
 
He makes me constantly up my humor game with his great comebacks and one-liners. He’s my number-one idea generator and inspiration for creativity. He keeps his expectations of me set at, “Love me” and “Be Yourself.”
 
He gives everything he has to others for his job, then he comes home and gives some more. He never gives up or shows a hint of disloyalty.
 
Even though we’re struggling right now with family sickness, etc., we plan on celebrating this weekend… and hopefully October when mom and dad can get out again 😉
 

Throw Those Peanuts in Bed

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As part of our dinner entertainment tonight, Josh enthusiastically told us “YOU HIT A HOME RUN!!!!” He got down from the table, “ran the bases” around the island and did a victory dance by his chair.
 
Meanwhile, the peanut gallery threw peanuts at us and declared in whiny voices “I don’t liiiiike it” and “I just don’t want dinner” and “I WANT MACNCHEEEEEEESE!!!!!”
 
One cried in her high chair.
 
Eh, you take the good with the bad. But just because the peanut gallery throws the peanuts, YOU do not veer from your trajectory of serving a perfect medium rare steak, sous-vide and seared to perfection. And piping hot English Cross potatoes.
 
Do not let that peanut gallery steal your Steak joy. Make ’em brush their teeth and throw those little peanuts in bed.
 

Go Ask Your Dad

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Mealtime always leads to lively discussion in the house. And I say that with a giant grain of salt because none of the boys are huge “chatter-ers.” I know this doesn’t surprise you at all. (At this exact moment all boys are taking turns at fake-puking and running to the bathroom just because it’s funny).
 
But earlier in the meal, as things usually go, all boys were duscussing (amongst themselves) their opinions on whatever meal they’ve just been served.
 
“I like mom’s eggs best,” said Joshua, because he loves onions and cheese and whatever other goodies I throw in. And because he’s the oldest child and he’s clearly the smartest as I was standing within earshot.
 
Sammy and TJ agreed that dad’s eggs are the best because he generally doesn’t put in any “yucky” vegetables or anything else that could potentially ruin a perfectly good dish.
 
But then, TJ took it a step further as TJ usually does.
 
“Mom, I like dad’s rules best.”
 
My head spun around like a gyroscope.
 
Me: “‘SCUSE ME???”
 
TJ: “Yeah, dad’s rules are better.”
 
I heard the record scratch and I could feel my super power of expository speaking welling up from the pit of my stomach.
 
Me: “Lemmetellyousomething young sir. Your dad and I have the SAME rules, mmmmkay?”
 
Dear reader, I hope you understand that I absolutely knew what he was talking about. But you also understand that I CANNOT LET THEM THINK THEY ARE RIGHT. That would be an egregious miscalculation in judgement that would haunt me for years.
 
Quite possibly for the rest of my life.
 
Me: “TJ, who is here 90% of the time and watching over you?”
 
TJ: “Um, you.”
 
Me: “That is correct. So who is here to enforce those rules over and over and over and over MOST of the time?”
 
All the boys chorus: “You.”
 
Me: “Your dad and I talk about and agree upon all the rules (okaaaayyyy… maybe 50% of the time because 90% of this parent gig is complete improvisation).
Me: “AND… he BACKS ME UP 100% when I have to do the hard job of pointing you back to said rules.”
 
That was a lot of statistics to throw at them. Especially for kids who have barely learned addition and subtraction.
 
All the boys blinked.
 
Josh: “Okay, mom. When dad gets home can we watch TV?”
 
Me: “Go ask your dad.”
 
Nice talking to you boys. And yeah. Dad’s rules are probably better.
 
#dadsrules #amwriting #authorsofig #writingcommunity #momswhowrite #breakfastwithboys #breakfasttalk #goaskyourdad

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