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About Jackie Lea Sommers

Minneapolis YA author who rather enjoys Jesus, stories, cute nerds, and cranky teenagers. Jackie blogs about OCD, faith, and creativity at www.jackieleasommers.com.

Dear Self

Dear self, remember this week, this first week of 2021 and all the freedom and responsibility it brought. All the hope and effort and motivation.

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It’s gonna get harder from here on out, returning to work, diving back into the busyness. But please remember sitting on the couches with Chelsea, the two of you ticking off your accomplishments, and Chel saying, “2021 is coming up US,” and how you both laughed but really believed it.

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Mistakes are coming. New writing rejections too, I’m sure. The stress of financial aid season at the university. The wait for my vaccine.

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Take a hot shower and a nap. Then make your bed and remember this week. Say a prayer and keep going.

Spaces

Focusing on healthy spaces. It was the Fab Five from @queereye who made me realize just how much my disordered spaces both represented and enforced my disordered insides. It has been a SLOW SLOG, hampered further by physical illness/limitations, but I’m getting there!

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I’ve learned a lot from @home.by.eleven (and wholeheartedly endorse her if you need help organizing your own disordered spaces– she’s a genius AND a maniac ❤️). I have this feeling that 2021 may be the year I actually catch up and correct some old habits.

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I’ll be 39 in a couple weeks, and I just want to feel calm. Ha!

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twenty twenty-one

A weird, good start to the year: slammed with fatigue, I didn’t leave my room till 3:30 pm. But I finished a book and started a new one. I ate a salad and cleaned my room a little, including making the bed, which I almost never do. I watched a movie and started to figure out a revision plan for #YesNovel.

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Just like 2020, I’ll take 2021 one day at a time.

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Whale Day by Billy Collins

Death runs like a thread through these poems, weaving in and out, never subtle, rather, “death is the magnetic north of poetry” here. ➕ The fourth section hit me hardest, because “The Ghost in You” by the Psychedelic Furs began to play, and the first poem is one I know well, only here Collins made the smallest changes, so it was like finding myself in a dream in a room I know I know but cannot place. ➕ The Furs sing, “Angels fall like rain/And love is all of heaven away,” and everything collides: the new year, and whatever comes next and next.

The Future Looks Like Anna

I got a fascinating email today; it was from a librarian who runs a teen writing workshop, and they had used some resources from my website. One of the young writers– Anna– wants to write for film or theatre, and she noticed I didn’t have resources about script/screenwriting and wanted to share a link. You can read it here.

I love that Anna noticed a gap in my resources, found her own, and then paid it forward by sharing it with me. I’m always amazed by the kindness of others.

Light is coming, friends. Metaphorically: we are starting to see the end of this insane season we’ve been in; the tunnel has an end. Literally: after December 21st, the days start getting longer. And futuristically: Anna, her friends, and other young people will be writing the stories.