High apple pie, in the sky hopes

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being yourself, change, control, dreams coming true, goals, inspire, Jane Butler, Jane Paffenbarger Butler, joy, mentors, natural talent, writing

Next time you’re found with your chin on the ground, There’s a lot to be learned, so look around

My chin WAS on the ground, so I looked around.

And then three girls from our local STEM high school answered my ad! My new marketing team are these media-savvy students determined to assist this local author in improving my platform.

My agent tells me that the editors she has shown my work to were interested in my story, in my writing and in me. But my lack of a platform has been a stumbling block. I need to engage with the writing community more and reach out to potential readers. So since this is not what I know how to do naturally, I have called together these smart teens to assist.

My goals include producing a book trailer that highlights the story I have available for publication, taking the time to regularly sit next to a live person who can in real time advise me on how to make “genuine connections electronically”, and learn more about the authors out there that I love for their work and their stories.

Wish me luck as I embark on this self-assignment to lead this team toward the publication of my manuscript.

I’ve got high hopes. I’ve got high apple pie in the sky hopes.

P.S. In case you are wondering, goober peas are boiled peanuts. Just saying.

I go to the farm for the smells

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being yourself, friends, Jane Butler, Jane Paffenbarger Butler, joy, parents

CSA Two Gander Farm

My CSA was great this summer because it was like shopping in a grocery market. I was able to select what I wanted skipping the dark leafy greens in favor of beets every time!

Besides the great food, though, I use a CSA for another reason. A secret reason that no one can see as I select my squash and tomatoes, and as I tramp around the beds in the field picking flowers and cherry tomatoes or beans and fresh herbs.

I’m breathing while I am there.

I am breathing in fresh air and smells of the farm, of soil and rain and varmints. Being there, my feet sinking into the ground, makes me remember my childhood. My father was a dairy farmer, and I am not kidding, the smell of cow manure is not a bad smell to me. My CSA has no cows, but since Dad also raised vegetables, every summer my mother and I sat snapping buckets of green beans then blanching them before freezing. Stepping out to the farm once a week has its purpose for me today.

My childhood lacked important elements, but one thing it had for sure, was an abundance of contact with the earth. Sometimes you’d find fall leaves on the steps going up to the attic as if they’d wandered in and hitched a ride through the house. Or you’d hear creatures in the walls and a possum on the porch. The dirt tracked in the house from my dad’s boots and the stem he used to pick his teeth meant he’d spent the day in the fields checking on his men. And for me, the babble of the creek nearby was as hallowed as the voice of a trusted friend.

Although Two Gander Farm is my outdoor grocery store, I go there not just for the rich produce. There’s a sense of belonging I don’t feel anywhere else. The smell of leaf and seed and dirt in the cracks of the barn’s floorboards swirls around me and welcomes me in. The ladders, the post beams, the creaking of the roof as windy air whips through, or just the puddles that gather where they will as it happens, all love me just because I show up.

Being on the farm makes me remember that the earth is my friend and otherwise I don’t visit it enough.

My conversation with Mark Twain

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being yourself, express feelings, goals, higher power, inspire, Jane Butler, Jane Paffenbarger Butler, joy, listening, love, mentors, teacher, words, writing

Mark Twain and I were chatting the other day when he said to me, “When in doubt, tell the truth,” as if I hadn’t heard THAT before.

What was he even talking about? Of course, I tell the truth, that’s the whole point of my memoir. But you can’t just tell the truth as if it is a finite thing, Mark. Nope, I’ve learned over the years, and it’s been a difficult surprise, that my truth is not necessarily your truth.

“If you tell the truth you don’t have to remember anything,” he explained.

Mark Twain seemed a little exasperated as he stared back, not even batting an eye. He sat still as a stone, a cold chill flying off his shoulder directly at me.

But you might consider, he continued, “It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.”

Thanks for that, Mark, but I can’t stop myself, I told him.

He seemed a little testy now.

Best I can do is be as honest as possible and hope others see that’s what I’m aiming for. I want to make a point, you know. About how we try to love each other and about how it doesn’t always work out that well.

Mark softened and I thought I saw him smile. His parting words, which I chose to interpret as supportive, were all I needed to head back to my desk and hit the keyboard again, back on my way after our brief interlude.

“All you need in this life is ignorance and confidence, and then success is sure.”

Thanks, Mark. Looks like I’m ready then.

Poetic gesture

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being yourself, express feelings, inspire, Jane Butler, Jane Paffenbarger Butler, joy, listening, love, marriage, mentors, natural talent, parents, passion, relationship, words, writing

My friend was recipient of a most romantic gesture. Her partner built and installed this beautiful poetry post. It is positioned right next to the sidewalk so passersby may read her poetry every time she puts up something new.

This guy taught me how to laugh

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being yourself, dreams coming true, express feelings, friends, Jane Butler, Jane Paffenbarger Butler, joy, love, marriage, relationship, writing

Jane Paffenbarger Butler – author – with the man she captured in her giant blanket

Somehow at the age of nineteen, I spotted a guy who would stay with me for the next 40 years and counting. To be fair, he spotted me and I ran the other way, and it was only because several acquaintances pointed out his obvious interest and implored me to take him seriously, that I finally noticed him as a potential partner for life. He’s been nothing but steadfast, nothing but kind, and nothing but improved with age. Thank you friends who did that.

He knew not how to plumb a bathroom when I met him. He was not a loving parent or sole breadwinner. But since then he has become all these things and more. And in addition he’s propped me up through thick and thin, he’s counseled me on what I have not known and he has encouraged me and been my advocate when I didn’t know I needed it.

His winning attributes in the beginning were that he was funny and he was kind. He made me laugh and then taught me how to do it, and now, all these years later we are still laughing together.

Believe me, I had no idea what I was doing back then, but my gut reaction to this man has served me well through the years. He hasn’t changed much really. The kind, shy, funny, smart, encouraging guy I met at nineteen is still there, it’s just that all of that has morphed and matured and come along in an even better form right up to today.

This month, in Psychology Today online I tell the story of my young husband who takes me to his Aunt Maureen’s at Christmas where I discover that everyone refers to his Uncle Dave as Meathead, thus beginning my education in humor. Take a look at “Introduction to Meathead Therapy” on the Healthy Connections blog post by Maryann Karinch.

Introduction to Meathead Therapy

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being yourself, express feelings, forgiveness, friends, Jane Butler, Jane Paffenbarger Butler, joy, listening, love, marriage, parents, psychotherapy, relationship

This month I am featured in Psychology Today’s Healthy Connections blog by Maryann Karinch where she tells the story of what she calls my introduction to “meathead therapy.”

When my husband and I were young and first married we went to his Aunt Maureen and Uncle Meathead’s on Christmas Eve. Theirs was a modest gathering, but I loved it because the one thing that was not modest was the connection I saw between the people who came and went. Folks arrived at the door and each was welcomed like a king. They were offered a drink, some food, a seat, and all the time in the world, crowding onto the attic stairs when room at the table ran out.

The goal was to entertain, to tell funny stories even at each other’s expense, even as it exposed each other’s bullheadedness, ignorance or misery.

And I was spellbound.

These folks cared for each other. I’d go so far as to say they loved each other. My family didn’t sit around the kitchen table on Christmas Eve welcoming one another in with drinks and smiles and all the time in the world because of our handicap of taking life seriously and rejecting one another for our human foibles.

Since that night with Maureen and Meathead, and with my steadfast husband next to me, I have worked hard in psychotherapy and have learned about the healthy attitudes of accepting one another for who we are and learning to celebrate one another no matter how goofy we get.

I think the healthy connections we make are born of the dedicated showing up at each other’s kitchen tables no matter what the circumstance.

 Check out my story in Psychology Today.

 

 

Is my truth showing?

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being yourself, express feelings, fear, Jane Butler, Jane Paffenbarger Butler, parents, relationship, words, writing

some people get more dressed up than others to visit Times Square

I just want to put everything on the table, like this lady did. She took off all her clothes then stood on a platform in the middle of NYC while her unique outfit was painted on stroke by stoke.

In the same way, I’d like to demystify my life. Tell the truth. For me growing up, everything was such a secret. No one said how they really felt and I couldn’t get a straight answer about anything that mattered. People’s feelings and thoughts were hidden in sarcasm or blame or silence and you had to guess what was going on. Really. I had no idea if my parents even liked me there was so much intrigue in my life.

So now, I can’t help myself from just saying the truth. Revealing everything so people can see it and we can all be talking about and reacting to the same thing, without the confusion of hidden meanings and cloaked references.

That must be why people often react to my memoir by saying it is strikingly honest, or transparent. That I have been courageous in telling my story. To me it is about compulsion. I am compelled to tell you what really happened rather than hide it in stories that hint.

It is scary and daring and cold out there with no clothes on, but it feels better to reveal my truths than to hide them and hope that someone will see through it all to who I really am.

Is it possible to be more romantic than this?

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being yourself, dreams coming true, express feelings, friends, friendship, higher power, inspire, Jane Butler, Jane Paffenbarger Butler, joy, listening, love, marriage, passion, relationship, words

Paris Opera House Ceiling

Everything about this moment was romantic. It wasn’t enough just to be back in Paris thirty-five years after we’d honeymooned there, but we were also staying at the same hotel and stopping in at Fouquet’s, the same place on the Champs-Elysee we’d stumbled onto late one night when we were newlywed where we had chocolate mousse we hadn’t ever forgotten.

No, all that wasn’t romantic enough.

My husband thought we should have a date out on the town and lined up a trip to the opulent Paris Opera Garnier. We donned our fanciest travel clothes and sat beneath the blessing of Marc Chagall’s colorful celebration of art itself.

And as if that wasn’t enough, the program that night, an homage to Jerome Robbins, harkened back to our early days. As newlyweds we often attended the New York City ballet at their outdoor summer home at Saratoga Performing Arts Center in upstate New York. The staging of “Glass Pieces” in particular was so familiar that it took my breath away to know I was in Paris, France, at the Opera House, with my boyfriend who was still following me around and delighting me with his thoughtfulness and kindness and shared joy of all things artistic, that I could barely watch through the tears in my eyes.

We left that night, awed by the layered gilded building, the rainbow of Chagall’s ceiling, the drama of ballet and the deep thankfulness in our hearts for one another and for the great good fortune to be able to hold each other’s hands still and take it all in.

I Don’t Have an Actual Job but I Pretend I Do at Home

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express feelings, friends, goals, Jane Butler, Jane Paffenbarger Butler, words, writing

Draft of my manuscript and notes from a meeting with my latest beta reader.

Apparently my high school superlative award is very important to me! My classmates thought I could eventually get something done so I keep a framed picture of this yearbook drawing near my desk for emotional support. I’d hate to let them down.

They should not be worried though because I don’t seem to be giving up on this project. My latest beta readers have provided feedback after I completed a major restructuring of the story this July. It took a whole year because I read three books on the craft of writing after a Simon and Schuster editor suggested I needed attention to the underlying themes. I took notes on each book then applied those notes to the manuscript, then rewrote and reworked and reconsidered. That editor was quite right and I am forever grateful to her for taking the time to comment. Now I have addressed those themes and my beta readers have noticed.

I paraphrase below what one of my recent readers said.

“You have a phenomenal resolution to the circumstances of your story, showing tremendous strength and courage as you face the dragons and giants of your life and try to connect with them. So many people would benefit from your story because it shows a person can come out of terrible circumstances and rise above them,offering hope while working towards reconciliation.”

So, for all of you high school friends out there who thought I was most likely to succeed, do not give up yet. I’m almost there.

 

Great writing should not put you to sleep!

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control, inspire, Jane Butler, Jane Paffenbarger Butler, listening, security, teacher, words, writing

My sister’s cats sleeping together!

I recently learned of a podcast that is pretty funny and useful for settling down. It is called Sleep With Me  (https://www.sleepwithmepodcast.com/.) There are hundreds of episodes and it is designed to help people fall asleep by telling really boring stories. These are “bedtime stories to help grown ups fall asleep in the deep dark night.”

The one I listened to was called “Baked Beans: The Adventures of Mr. Triangle and Isosceles.” A town of math-appreciating people will see a show that they must pay for with cans of baked beans, but there is trouble when it is realized that the wagon scheduled to carry all the cans of baked beans cannot stand the load. This story, told by a man who drolls on and on, often stumbling around for words and deftly emphasizing little parts of speech that make you stop and question what you just heard, breaks all the rules of writing by never getting to the point, using mindless dialogue, reiterating points and leaning on cliches.

The other one I heard was called something like “20 Steps to Self-Skin Care” and the first ten minutes were devoted to applying one’s fingertips to the face very deliberately and specifically in order to execute a light massage he called “running through Strawberry Fields.” It’s hilarious and relaxing and soporific.

I am planning on sharing this with the students in the Creative Writing class come Fall because it really drives home the idea that good writing should not put one to sleep.