A Troll and an Author Update

 Last weekend, we went looking for a troll for our 30th Anniversary.

Not an internet troll. A very large, much more charming, wooden one.

Pia the Peacekeeper by recycle artist Thomas Dambo.

We visited Pia the Peacekeeper, one of Thomas Dambo's Northwest Trolls, and along the way my husband unexpectedly pulled out a Professor Quirrell impersonation/callback that made the whole adventure even better. 

"Troll! There's a troll in the dungeon! I thought you ought to know."

It was exactly the kind of outing I love: a little walking, a little exploring, something unusual to discover, and plenty to laugh about.

And it turned out to be particularly good timing.

LIFE UPDATE

The days afterward became much more serious. My dad had a significant health decline, and our family has now brought in hospice care.

That's about all I want to say about that here, except that it means I'm giving myself a little more breathing room for the next couple of weeks.

I'm taking a brief break from my usual podcast schedule, and when Growing Our Gifts returns, I'm going to change the order of the next few episodes. I had planned to talk about nourishing our creativity next, but first I want to talk about support—the people who help us keep growing when we don't have the capacity to do everything ourselves.

Because something I've noticed over the past week is that my creativity hasn't disappeared.

I've walked.

I've journaled.

I've listened to podcasts.

I've rested.

I've spent time with people I love.

I've laughed at unexpected Professor Quirrell impersonations and visited giant trolls.

And, in the middle of several very difficult days, I found twenty minutes to sit down with my book again.

It wasn't a full writing day. It wasn't supposed to be.

It was just twenty minutes of revising, remembering the story, and finding my way back into that creative space.

Sometimes growing our gifts means putting in the hours.

Sometimes it means learning, practicing, revising, and stretching ourselves.

And sometimes, I think, it means keeping a tiny bit of space open for creativity while the rest of our lives need our attention.

The gift doesn't disappear because we're resting.

It doesn't disappear because we're grieving or caregiving or simply tired.

Sometimes it's still there, growing quietly.

And sometimes you find it again while walking through the woods looking for a troll.

Pia the Peacekeeper and me

IWSG Writing Regrets AND Rest is Part of the Trellis

 

Insecure Writer's Support Group

Many thanks to Alex J. Cavanaugh, all of the IWSG, and this month's blog hop volunteers for August 2026.

The awesome co-hosts for the August 5 posting of the IWSG are Shannon Lawrence, Diedre Knight, Liza, and Pat Garcia! 

The IWSG has been a part of my writing journey for over a decade and I am thankful for all the encouragement and support I have received, but more importantly, I am thankful for the community.

This month's optional question is: As a writer/author what is something you regret? Or something that you wish you'd done differently in your writing process?

My biggest regret is giving into fear and doubt at various times in my writing life, following the "wrong for me" advice that I knew was "wrong" deep in my gut, and not pivoting at times when I knew a pivot was needed - again, not trusting my instincts.

Some of this is that I didn't know what I know now: my strengths (based on the Clifton Strengths test) are ideation, strategic thinking, connectedness, achiever, and learner. There are weaknesses alongside those, but honestly, I process and draw conclusions on data points and ideas that I've taken in from a variety of places without necessarily walking through the "A to Z" logic of it step by step.

Trusting my own "intuition" that isn't really intuition but a lot of ideas coming together has been a huge step forward for me, but I'm still learning how to do that, and learning how to take what I "know" and create systems that rely on those strengths. So, my doubt in my own process is what I think has held me back the most, and discovering how to play to my strengths is both helping me as an author and healing me as a person.

Perhaps that's one of the reasons I've been thinking so much lately about trellises, gardens, and growth.

On my podcast, The Truth About Storytelling, I've started a short series called Growing the Gifts We've Been Given. In the first episode, I talked about how our strengths need trellises like healthy structures and rhythms that support the gifts we've been given instead of leaving them tangled. This week, I've been wondering about something else.

What if rest isn't the opposite of growth?

What if it's part of the trellis?

The more I think about my own writing journey, the more I realize that growth hasn't come simply from writing more words or working harder. It's also come from learning to notice, to listen, to take long walks, to read widely, to pray, and to give myself enough space for ideas to connect.

In other words, I've been learning to trust both the way I grow and the One who grows me.

Rest is a Part of the Trellis

We often think growth comes from doing more.

Working harder.

Producing more.

Trying longer.

But gardens tell a different story.

Healthy growth includes seasons of rest, renewal, and quiet preparation.

This week, I found myself asking a simple question:

What if rest isn't the opposite of growth?

What if it's part of the support that helps us flourish?

Walking, reading, prayer, creativity, listening for birds, or simply sitting quietly for a few moments may not look productive, but they often refill the well we draw from every day.

As you go through your week, I'd encourage you to consider a few questions:

• What truly restores you?
• What helps you notice beauty?
• What leaves you with more hope than when you began?
• Where might God be inviting you to receive instead of striving?

Rest isn't stepping away from growth.

Rest is one of the ways we grow.