The truth of self-employment: My boss is a bitch!

Jessa Slade:

From my side gig at See Jane Publish…

Originally posted on See Jane Publish:

This month at See Jane Publish we’re talking about women entrepreneurs. When the Janes discussed this topic, it seemed like an exciting idea. Entrepreneur is a buzz word these days, and women are very much in the news, fighting for equality and recognition. I consider myself an entrepreneur. I’m a freelance writer, editor, and designer which makes me a self-directed go-getter with big ideas, perfect for entrepreneurial pursuits (and also makes me essentially useless for “real” jobs). I own my own one-woman company ~ Jessa Slade as CEO, secretary, and master bottle washer. So I was looking forward to diving into this discussion of what it means to be an entrepreneur.

And then last week I had to move my work out of an office space and into my rather small home.

Ai! What a nightmare! Due to unforeseen circumstances (which I’d know about for approx. several months but was ignoring) I…

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Stealing Licks by Rainstick Cowbell

Jessa Slade:

Cross posted from See Jane Publish for our month of real-life romance.

Originally posted on See Jane Publish:

Note from Jessa: When I told my XY about this month’s topic — real-life romance — he started to reminisce about how we met. I quickly shut him down and told him to write it down. Hey, no romance writer worth her weight in chocolate lets a good love story go unwritten!

S&J clean A portrait of artists as young starving artists: Jessa Slade and Rainstick Cowbell before they were rich and famous, along with dog Hannah (with tongue and stick) and friend’s dog Foo.

For me it happened quick. At least how I remember it. I was living in a small ski town in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. I think the ratio of guys to girls was something like ten to one. But somehow, I met my love at two thousand meters.

It was because of the music I was making that the local paper sent over their crack reporter…

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Do you love Kindle Unlimited? Do you want your next 12 months’ worth of subscription on us? All twelve of these books are available free to members of Kindle Unlimited, and the authors have joined forces to bring you this opportunity.

Enter your name and e-mail in the contest form here. (Thanks to Mia Thorne for setting up and hosting this contest! Make sure you get her book!)

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We’ll draw a winner at the end of February, but in the meantime check out these series…



Dreams are weird

I know, I know. Everybody groans when somebody says, “I had this weird dream…” But I did! And it’s my blog, so there. Also, another dream post I wrote about being pregnant with elephants still gets a strangely high number of searches, so maybe it’s helping (?) someone.

So a couple nights ago, I had a religious experience in my dream. Which is already weird, because I’m not religious. I mean, I’m not a ninja either, and I dream about that. And I can’t fly, but that doesn’t seem to stop dream-me. But still, being religious in my dream was extra weird, even for dream-me.

I had been summoned to a prophet’s island to translate a mysterious carving on a silver rock (that looked like a manhole cover, but whatever). Apropos of nothing (as is SOP for dreams) Macgyver was the captain of the boat. (I’ve never even seen the show, but my brain is happy to supply pop culture references, I guess.) So we arrived at the island, and I donned a brown Obi Kenobi robe (of course) to climb the mountain, passing a line of waiting supplicants. The mountain was made of ice, and I had to find hand- and foot-holds to climb. When I got to the top, I walked up to the mysterious carving/manhole cover.

The prophet was hovering beside me, and everyone was eager to hear the Word of God. I FELT the power of moment vibrating through me. (It was garbage day, so it might have been the recycling truck pulling up out front.) It was like a true, real-life religious experience. My whole body was tingling in the dream. I felt a euphoria like a flying dream. I looked down at carving and it said:

“Tingles happen here.”

In the dream, I laughed. And not-dreaming-me was impressed that even dream-me is a smart-ass. Needless to say, everyone on the mountain was pretty disappointed. Except the prophet, who was furious. He chased me down the ice mountain. (Luckily, dream-me was in full ninja mode, so I slid deftly from foot- to hand-hold without plummeting to my doom.)

But as I made my escape, dream-me started to cry. Because I liked those tingles. They felt good, like a sugar buzz or hot sun on cold skin. And I was sad that the tingles were just tingles, not something “more”. So I’m crying and sliding down the ice mountain, and I hear a voice. Not really a god-like voice. There was no booming or anything. But it said:

“It will never be enough.”

And that made dream-me cry harder, because how sad is that? Why can’t it ever be enough?

But then the voice said, “There’s always a second chance.”

Dream-me stopped crying. The alarm went off and I woke up, still sort of caught between this laughing and crying thing. I lay there for a minute to make sure I captured the imagery and emotion of the dream. (If I don’t do that, I lose chunks before I can record them.) And I thought about it. I think maybe it IS sad — not just for dream-me, but for real-me — that tingles are just tingles and nothing is ever enough. But the idea that there’s always a second chance… that JUST MIGHT be “enough” of a powerful message.

I’ve read about how the human brain is wired for religious experience, which is really interesting to me. And in the real world, we see how religion and purported religiosity still affect us, sometimes in bad ways. I’m not inclined to think most dreams really “mean” anything except a chance for our busy brains to process some stuff during our down-time, but I think I’ll actually use this particular religious experience. Even if it wasn’t real.