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Words Are Like Magic is available now.

Words Are Like Magic is a whimsical collection of rhymes about showing up to life's awkward and painful seasons. Inspired by the stories of women who have been hurt by thoughtless words, or worse, no words at all, these poems help us understand how our friends may be feeling so that we can be there for them with courage and grace.

Some are lighthearted and funny: what to say to your pregnant friend, to your friend with different political views, to your friend who doesn’t know what she wants to do with her life. Others are heavy and raw: what to say to your friend walking through infertility, to your friend battling depression, to your friend struggling with self-image. But they all encourage us to show up for our sisters–to help each other to feel seen, known, and loved with our magical words. 

Your Oldest, Greatest Dream

At the beginning of this year, when things were what we’d call “normal” and “good,” rather than writing a list of new year’s resolutions, I wrote a list of short and long term goals. The first goal I wrote down was easy, because it’s always been my biggest, greatest dream.

I wanted to write a book.

See, I’d tried this before. Twice, actually. Once in college when a creative writing project took on a life of its own. I wrote about fifty pages of that one before I quit. The next time, with a new idea, I wrote 130 pages before closing the document for what I didn’t know would be the final time. I’ve never been a quitter and I’m not afraid of hard things, but something about writing a book got the best of me. All I’d ever wanted to do was be an author, but it truly seemed impossible.

It Counts

My chest achingly tightened as I listened to the former marine describe his open heart surgery DURING WHICH HE WAS PARTIALLY AWAKE. We were on our way to the beach, and Tyler had requested that we listen to a new audiobook he downloaded. By “a new audiobook” I mean “his first audiobook ever.” Tyler does not read. In the seven years I have known him, he has never finished a book, so of course I was happy to listen to his book if it meant he was interested in reading. 

As this man told his life’s story, it included a handful of gruesome details including a chapter about the time his anesthesia didn’t work correctly during his open heart surgery. “My chest is getting tight,” I said to Tyler, rearranging the vents so they blew cold air directly into my face.

Apologizing

Bursts of orange and pink danced across the sky as the sun began to settle into the horizon for the evening. It was our final day of vacation, and we decided to venture down to the beach one last time to snap a few photos as all southern white families do.

My 16-month-old was in a particularly volatile mood after refusing to nap, but we were bathed and dressed and the sky was gorgeous and dadgumit we were going to get a happy family photo. 

I asked if any of my family members would take a few pictures of Tyler, Wren, and myself as we walked down the beach barefoot in our dress clothes. (I know, I know—it was a very original idea.) My 13-year-old sister, Anna, eagerly jumped at the opportunity.