Category Archives: #bloggingcommunity

Eden Robins: Isn’t it Time to Own Your Own Life?

Today I am handing over the keys to this blog to my dear IRL friend romance novelist Eden Robins who is sharing a guest post about something close to her heart. Feel free to share this blog post with anyone you think might want to own their own life!

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 Own Your Own Life

Every person gets to ask themselves this:
“Who am I, who do I want to be, and how do I choose to be in this moment?”

Own your own life.

That’s an underlying theme in the novels I write and it’s my mission in guiding others as a life coach.

I’ve been asked a number of times what I mean by the phrase, “own your own life”. My answer is what you might expect. It means you get to decide the kind of life you live today, tomorrow and for the rest of your days.

Okay, so now I’ve answered the question.

We’re done here, right?

Doesn’t everyone own their own life? After all, they’re the ones living it. Who else would own your life but you?

The answer may seem simple but, as I’ve learned over several decades on this earth, simple does not always mean easy.

Nevertheless, it’s important to understand exactly who’s running your life.

Why?

If who you believe you are is based on how others see you, or how you imagine they’re seeing you, then you’re not running your own life. You’re running on the hamster wheel of other people’s expectations, or your perception that they have those expectations.

Owning your own life starts with understanding who you are and what’s most important to you (aka your values). As a life coach, I help empower people to fully discover and embrace themselves and their values so they can take charge of and live their own best life. This empowerment can lead to a better job, healthier and happier relationships, an improved quality of life, smoother transitions and more confidence, courage, consistency and clarity in pursuing dreams and goals.

Life coaching isn’t about telling people what to do. Rather, it’s about guiding them to an understanding of what they already sense about themselves but haven’t fully settled into yet.

Sometimes, settling into the truth can be the hardest obstacle to overcome.

I know that because I’ve experienced it myself.

Well into my fifties, I decided to become a life coach. Yet, I couldn’t even bring myself to say, “I’m a life coach”. I’d use terms like “mentor”, “sponsor” or “guide”.

“Life coach” felt too expansive, too formal and way beyond how I saw myself. I was unable to reconcile who a life coach was with who I was. I was convinced I didn’t have what it took to do the job.

Even after I received my life coaching certification, those old, overused “you’re not enough” recordings played repeatedly in my head…

All that volunteer work didn’t make me a life coach. So what if I received a certification in life coaching? That didn’t mean anything. So what if I had over a decade of experience? That didn’t count because I hadn’t charged money for my services. You’re too old. It’s too late.

The negative chatter droned on incessantly for over two years after I received my certification. I realize now that this time in between was valuable because my beliefs began shifting and sharpening as my idea of what it meant to be a coach evolved and became clearer.

I hired other coaches to work with me. I also studied coaching by taking classes, attending workshops, and researching others in my field. All the while, I continued my volunteer coaching. I grasp now that I was progressing during that time because I had made the choice to be curious and stay open to change even when mired in self-doubt.

In other words, I decided to dig into and face the truth about myself in a way that eventually led to an important question.

What if I AM enough?

That simple, quiet question grew louder and louder in my mind until I could no longer ignore it and decided to answer it by asking another question.

What does it mean to be a life coach?

That question changed everything for a few reasons.

First, it cracked open my resistance to accepting the truth about myself, which became just enough of an opening to let my curiosity bloom. Second, I realized that those two years following my certification provided me with the opportunity to explore and learn the answer. And third, timing played a big part. I believe that if I hadn’t spent those years learning, staying curious, and questioning if, perhaps, I was enough, I might still be sitting on the fence rather than taking action.

My curiosity helped me know in my gut the answer to the question, “What does it mean to be a life coach?”

My answer was a knowing deep in my gut that declared, “I hold everything I need to be a life coach inside of me right now.”

That shift from resistance to curiosity led me to a new awareness of myself and helped me become ready to face the truth of who I was.

Every person gets to ask themselves this: “Who am I, who do I want to be, and how do I choose to be in this moment?”

Owning your own life is ultimately about realizing that you have power over the life you live because you get to choose who and how you want to be every second of living it. That power is always there, no matter your age, the people around you, or what’s happening in your world.

I’d like to leave you with this truth-filled reminder by the extraordinarily talented author, Alice Walker:
“The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don’t have any.”

Through my novels and my coaching, my goal has been to remind you of this simple, but powerful truth. You do and always have had the choice to own your own life. And don’t worry. If you aren’t sure how to walk that path of self-awareness and empowerment, I’ve got your back.

I once lived a disempowered life, and I know without a doubt that I can help you, as I’ve helped others, rediscover the confidence, courage, clarity, and power you’ve had inside you all along.

Isn’t it time to own your own life?

Eden Robins is a certified life coach, best-selling author, and owner of her own life. When not writing edge of your seat adventures, Eden helps people take charge of their life by taking charge of their own thoughts. Want the latest tips and tools for creating a life you love? Sign up for Eden’s Own Your Own Life newsletter here.

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Back to Michigan

I’ve been back home for a week after visiting my mother in Michigan. The trip was short and rushed as there was so much I needed to do for my mother. And relatives to visit, as well. I had no time for visiting friends, sadly.

In January my mother moved into memory care from the independent living apartment she had on the campus of her retirement community. She was hallucinating small animals in her apartment and having difficulty with time.

I kid you not that the minute she moved into memory care, the hallucinations stopped and she began to wonder, “Why does everybody in here have mental issues?”

A few weeks after she moved in I got a call from the director of assisted living (which includes memory care as well as regular assisted living) who said, “Your mother doesn’t belong in memory care. She knows who everyone is.”

And THAT is what I had been telling the staff at the community from the beginning of this whole hallucination period: “If she needs memory care why does she still know everyone–new people and family and old friends–and everything about them?”

They moved her into regular assisted living, and after visiting her I can tell you that is where she needs to be right now. She still relates well to people but continues to have some troubles with schedules and also cannot seem to organize herself.

As an aside: I have reason to believe that she might have had an undiagnosed UTI that did not show up on regular tests–and that most likely caused the hallucinations.

The gardener and I spent a great deal of time helping Mom organize her tiny apartment. We took her to buy a “petite” lift chair and found a gorgeous cherrywood (light finish) end table made by Amish craftspeople that was half price. I decided where all her pictures should be hung and put push pins in the proper places. The staff wouldn’t allow us to hang them ourselves.

One of the pictures is an 11×14 canvas painted by my two-year-old grandson for her. Mom and I Facetimed with little Hudson and his dad, too.

And when I talked to Mom the other day she said she points out Hudson’s painting to everyone who comes in to her room.

 

 

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One More Week Before Scrap’s Release!!!

I’m looking forward to the blog tours for my new book Scrap: Salvaging a Family, published by ELJ Editions.

First up are friend blogs!

Joy Neal Kidney, March 21, book review

Liz Gauffreau, March 23, book review

Marie Ann Bailey, March 24, book review

John W. Howell, March 25, book excerpt

Miriam Hurdle, March 30, companion story to Scrap

(If you want to participate just let me know at luanne[dot]castle[at]gmail.com :)!)

Then there is an April and May tour through Poetic Book Tours, schedule in link.

POETIC BOOK TOUR FOR SCRAP

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Prefer to Listen to The Weight of Snow and Regret? You’re in Luck!

Elizabeth Gauffreau’s newest novel, The Weight of Snow and Regret is now available on audio book. I think this is a fabulous move. Some people have vision issues and want to listen to novels. Some people have long commutes and like to “read” along the way. In fact, years ago, that’s how I first read Joy Luck Club–on my commute. The audio version at that time was read by the author Amy Tan.

I posted a review of Liz’s novel in October. Here it is if you missed it: REVIEW

Here’s the link to the audio version:

https://books2read.com/WeightofSnow

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A Twig off My WordPress

I’m inviting you to my new side project, my Substack account. NO, I’M NOT LEAVING WORDPRESS. As if!!!

My Substack is for writing more specifically about writing, and I want to be able to keep WordPress more for my blogger friends and me.

The article I wrote is called How I Wrote about a Troubled Childhood, and Healed in the Process. It’s about the writing of my memoir Scrap: Salvaging a Family and how I was able to use the process for emotional healing instead of having it make it worse.

I’ll close comments on this post so that if you go over and check it out you can feel free to comment over there. And I would LOVE it if you subscribe, but if you feel overwhelmed by subscriptions, no worries, I still love you.

https://open.substack.com/pub/luannecastle/p/how-i-wrote-about-a-troubled-childhood?r=bvbzq&utm_medium=ios&shareImageVariant=overlay

Yesterday was Hudson’s birthday party at an indoor gym. The kids from his class came and his older cousin who adores him. With all the adults I think it was close to forty people. The Gardener and I followed them home and gave Hudson his retro Radio Flyer tricycle and “racing helmet.”

Then . . . I collapsed on the couch in my nightgown. At 3PM!

Retro Radio Flyer tricycle WITH BELL

 

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A Tanka for #TankaTuesday Poetry Challenge, Holidays

For Robbie Cheadle’s challenge at #TankaTuesday challenge I’ve written a double tanka about my childhood Christmas Eves.

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Church bells ring-a-linged

We walked through the candy canes

in the crisp-aired park

Flakes coating our hair and coats

Sliding ourselves to the first house

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Progressive dinners

Mom’s aunt’s house, then her uncle’s

Grandma baked desserts

Worst part was the oyster stew

Now my fondest memory

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Eight years ago I decided to investigate this Christmas eve oyster stew phenomenon for my family history blog. My mother’s maternal family were the ones who celebrated with the progressive dinners and the oyster stew (a pan of milk and oysters essentially until my husband joined the family and added spices and seasonings). That family was half Dutch and half Pomeranian (an area on the Baltic that was part of Prussia, although the genetics of the German-speaking people (before WWII when they were kicked out of Poland) was actually Slavic. Anyway, the Pomeranian “half” was through the women, so that’s where I thought the tradition must come from. Here is the link to my post. Keep in mind one of the links within the article is now dead. A Christmas Tradition from the Old Country

To my knowledge nobody in the family carries on this tradition. We have all created new holiday traditions with our children.

Did your family have a tradition that seemed to pull the family together like this that is now nearly forgotten?

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Elizabeth Gauffreau’s Masterful New Novel, A Review

Liz Gauffreau is a master of historical fiction. And rather than creating a series (so far), she has written completely different books with different historical settings. I loved Telling Sonny, and now I love The Weight of Snow and Regret.

Here is my review of the latter. At the end I’ll share with you how you can purchase the book!

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Elizabeth Gauffreau’s new novel, The Weight of Snow and Regret, is a tribute to the residents of the Sheldon Poor Farm in Sheldon Springs, Vermont, as well as testament to the harsh lives of society’s disadvantaged. The novel takes place in 1967-68, the last year of the tenure of the poorhouse. But the plight of the poor and culture-rocking events of that year resonate with familiarity with contemporary readers.

The first part of the story weaves in the life of Louisianian Claire and how she falls from her place in middle-class society to living in the poorhouse far from home. In this way, the reader is drawn into the novel through the perspective of this mysterious woman, then the reader is delivered into the capable hands of Hazel, a sympathetic foster child grown into a compassionate woman who now runs the home itself while her husband manages the associated farm. Through Hazel’s kindness and perspective, we meet the other residents of the poorhouse.

The place hasn’t always been run as Hazel manages it. Before her hard work, dedication, and home management skills, the neglect was extreme. Every surface was filthy, with trash strewn about. The residents’ clothing was in desperate need of laundering. In fact, Hazel believes that the men’s underwear had never been cleaned. Hazel cleans the home immaculately, creates wholesome meals with a tiny budget, and gives the residents the care and understanding that they need.

These residents range from the forgotten elderly to the mentally ill to those with intellectual disabilities. Although they respond differently to events, and their interactions with each other can be fraught, Gauffreau’s exploration of their behavior and treatment rings true. One twist is that Hazel herself lived in this poorhouse at one time. A couple of the residents from her childhood time at the shelter are still living there when Hazel takes over. This feels like a gut punch to her to think of them still living in the conditions she and her family had undergone.

Gauffreau meticulously researched the history of the home, poor farm life in the sixties and before, the blues music that spoke to Claire’s troubled and depressed soul, the national and world headlines of the time, and local history. Her painstaking implementation of her research with her compassionate feel for the characters, and her excellent storytelling senses makes this an engrossing read. I read far into the night, without being able to put down the book.

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Help Meals on Wheels!

Purchase the paperback from the publisher, and $5.00 of the purchase price will be donated to AgeWell Meals on wheels of Franklin County, Vermont.

 

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Book Tour Stop: Book Review of Deborah Brasket’s When Things Go Missing

I’m thrilled to be part of the blog tour for the new novel written by Deborah Brasket whose blog Writing on the Edge of the Wild  I’ve been reading almost as long as I have been blogging.  I’ve reviewed this very special book, and I’d love for you to read the review, hoping that will motivate you to pick it up for yourself.

EBOOK GIVEAWAY The top 3 people who leave the most likes and comments on the participating blogs will be emailed a free eBook of When Things Go Missing (epub or mobi) PLUS two extra chapters (pdf or doc file)

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REVIEW

As I began reading Deborah Brasket’s debut novel, When Things Go Missing, I was expecting a smart and well-written story since I had been reading Brasket’s thoughtful blog for at least ten years. What I didn’t expect was such gorgeous writing, significant and densely woven themes and images, or how strongly the book would make me feel.

This novel is the story of a traditionally structured family of four and how the pieces that are the individuals fit together—smoothly, imperfectly, and jaggedly. The mother leaves one day without saying goodbye or providing a destination. At that point, daughter, son, and husband all respond differently, depending on their relationship with Mom/Frannie. As might be expected, they feel as if the center of the family is gone, leaving them with only tenuous connections to each other.

When Franny leaves town, her son, Cal, is a heroin addict who relies on the help of a rotating roster of enablers—including his mother—to give him money or a place to stay. The younger child, Kay, is a graduate student in archaeology, focused on finding a place for herself in her field. They both rely on their mother emotionally, but with the maternal tenderness spigot suddenly all but closed tight, they struggle to discover who they are and how they can succeed in life whether their mother is a part of their day-to-day lives or not.

The character portraits are carefully drawn. Brasket captures not only Cal’s addictive personality, but his sister’s love wrapped in resentment for the way he siphons attention for negative reasons. Even if the characters and their fascinating evolution throughout the book were all When Things Go Missing has to offer, it would be enough. I couldn’t look away for an instant. Every moment was a surprise and yet each new action made absolute sense for these people and their troubles and their conflicted emotions for each other.

Anyone who has an addict in their lives will be able to relate to this book at a profound level. Anyone who is part of a dysfunctional family group will be compelled to learn from the psychology at work here. And, finally, any parent who ever wanted to just get away from everyone and everything to search for peace and to find themselves, will feel a connection with the character who is missing throughout the novel—Franny herself. Where Franny finds herself will surprise and please you. The character her husband and children find within themselves will gratify you. I promise.

When Things Go Missing made me cry. I could not stop thinking about it when I finished reading. Frankly, I was stunned by the beauty and the brilliance.

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Following you will find the book information, description, and author bio–as well as the blog tour schedule.

PUBLISHER: Sea Stone Press
PUB DATE: September 22, 2025
PAGE COUNT: 352
FORMAT: E-book $8.99, paperback $14,95, hardback $21.95
AVAILABLE NOW at Amazon, Bookshop, Barnes & Noble, and all major retailers.

ABOUT WHEN THINGS GO MISSING
When Fran Albright turns fifty, she heads to the grocery store and keeps going until she reached the tip of South America, leaving behind an empty hole in the lives of her bewildered family. Her daughter Kay scrambles to finish her master’s degree while trying to glue the family back together. Her son Cal is torn between grief and rage as he fights his own addictions and demons without her there to help. And Walter tracks his wife’s journey southward with her credit card purchases, continuing to care for her as he always has, before heading north to Alaska. Adding to the mystery of the mother’s disappearance are the elated messages she leaves on Kay’s phone and the strange photos she sends Cal, who studies them like hieroglyphs he must decipher to save her and save himself.

When Things Go Missing is a masterful exploration of loss, loyalty, and self-renewal. Told through the viewpoints of Kay, Cal, and Walter, this emotionally rich, mystery-driven family drama is wrapped up in a propulsive page-turner you cannot help getting swept up in.

GENRES: Book Club Fiction, Literary Fiction, Family Saga, Women’s Fiction, Sibling
Fiction, Addiction Fiction, Introspective Family Drama, Healing and Self-Renewal

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

After sailing around the world with her husband and children, teaching literature to college students, and fighting for affordable housing as the leader of a nonprofit, Deborah J Brasket finally settled down among the golden hills and vineyards of California’s central coast to write the kinds of novels she loves to read.
http://www.deborahjbrasket.com
seastonepress@gmail.com

WEBSITES AND SOCIAL MEDIA
Author website and blog, Deborah J. Brasket, Author ~ Writing on the Edge of the Wild –

Novels

Substack Newsletter, https://deborahbrasket.substack.com/

Facebook, Deborah J. Brasket, Writer –  https://www.facebook.com/DeborahJBrasket/

Goodreads, https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/55448191.Deborah_J_Brasket

Instagram, https://www.instagram.com/dbrasket/

LinkedIn, https://www.linkedin.com/in/deborah-brasket-39384370/

 

BOOK BLOG PARTICIPANTS

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Interviewed by LatinosUSA about Poetry and Our Wolves

I’m thrilled that Editor Juan Re Crivello has interviewed me for LatinosUSA-English Edition’s. Hope you like it! Here’s a link:

https://latinosenglishedition.wordpress.com/2025/06/27/the-internet-has-given-new-life-to-poetry-luanne-castle/

 

 

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Five Things You Never Knew About Me

I started writing this blog over 12 years ago. Some of you might remember me back then. But the blog has new readers and even with 12 years I think there are things I’ve never talked about. So here are FIVE THINGS YOU NEVER KNEW ABOUT ME.

  1. When I was ten, my brownies won a blue ribbon at the county fair.

  2. I’m not that great at sports, but I used to love water skiing and cross-country skiing.

  3. I don’t drink coffee, and that seems to be a genetic anomaly because my aunt and my uncle are the same.

  4. When my kids were young, I got them to clean the kitchen floor by letting them slide across the floor with a bucket and rags.

  5. My favorite movie is Babe. My second favorite is Beetlejuice (the original one). #3 is Sitting Pretty (1948). #4 is Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House (1948). I love the Batman movies. Lots of Bs there!

Seriously, if you’ve never seen those two 1948 movies you are really missing some hysterical comedy.

Tag, you’re it. What are five things I don’t know about you?

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