Things About Which I Am Currently Feeling Anxious

Because I have a tendency to see the world in black-and-white extremes, anxiety has a direct relationship with certainty of impending doom. Others may call it paranoia. Or perhaps, "nothing to worry about." But in my head, the sky is falling.

I like to make lists. They make the world feel neat and orderly and less likely to fall apart.

Herewith is a list of the things, great and small, that I am feeling particularly anxious/doomsday about at the moment:

• Fleas. Both on my cats and in my blankets. Ew.
• The pain in my ankle that won't go away. Which is probably a stress fracture. (But is more likely a simple strain from over-use, because due to my own pigheadedness, I'm still going running even though my ankle hurts.)
• Gaining weight. Or possibly having already gained weight.
• The fact that gaining weight bothers me so much.
• An unexpected and major financial catastrophe coming hot on the heels of finally reaching a place of relative financial stability.
• My teeth. A recurring anxiety that would probably be greatly alleviated by making a dentist appointment.
• The photoshoot for my book. I mean, what if all my brews look like sludge? Or don't sparkle when they need to be sparkly? Or the bottles shatter on my way to the photoshoot? Oh dear, I just realized that I'm having performance anxiety for my homebrew.

I think that's it. That's enough, right? Interestingly enough, I'm not all that anxious about finishing my cookbook. Maybe because that's actually something that I feel like I have control over. Possibly, I have control issues and the reason that all the things on this list are making me so anxious is because I feel like I don't really have control over any of them.

There is the crux of the issue: not feeling in control. Not being able to control the outcome. Feeling helpless and at the mercy of something I don't understand. Some of these things (my ankle, my teeth) can probably be remedied by just going to see someone, finding out what to do, and taking care of it. Done. Other things are more complicated and require a certain level of living with the uncomfortableness of not knowing. Which is hard.

Incidentally, the weight gain issue falls somewhere in between and is a whole different barrel of psychological monkeys. We can save that for another rainy day.

But never fear. The sun will rise (probably). The sky will (most likely) not fall. The photoshoot will come to pass (eventually) and four months of flea meds will (hopefully) exorcise my home of pin-sized demons. Meanwhile, you can find me hiding under the desk with some gummy bears and a few jugs of homebrew.

Against the Grain

Cloud bank rolling inland - I-280 N to San Francisco

Let's talk habits. Wait, no. That's not quite strong enough for what I'm getting at. Let's talk about those ingrained behaviors, beliefs, and instincts that reside somewhere near the very core of our being. We don't even notice them half the time. Or at least we don't notice them right up until the moment when something steps into our comfort zone and asks us to do something that feels distinctly, excruciatingly, against the grain.

Case in point: I am a very frugal person. Often to extremes. I mean, is it really necessary to debate the pros and cons of an $8 book on Amazon for three weeks before deciding, ultimately, not to buy it? I'll spend money when it's needed or justified, but...it sometimes takes me a while to get to that point (see previous sentence). 

And now I'm writing this cookbook that requires, you know, that I cook. With ingredients. Using equipment. And with other books to use as reference. All of which need to be purchased. I don't have the luxury of debating the merits of a particular cooking pot for three weeks because I need it now. And I can't waffle about buying those sour cherries because they're only in season for another week. 

Even worse is when I realize that I don't actually have the option of not buying the cherries. Even if my internal barometer is telling me they're too expensive, I know I have to buy them because this book that I'm working on really needs a recipe or two with sour cherries. You'd think that would be justification enough to satisfy this Inner Scrimper and Saver, but alas, it is not. Even as I was signing the credit card receipt for eight pounds of sour cherries, my shoulders were hunched and my stomach was knotted. What if I mess up the recipe? What if all these cherries end up being wasted? Do I really need this many pounds? Do I need more? Am I wasting money?

It just goes against the grain, pure and simple. I've gotten so used to pinching pennies over the years that it's hard to open my fist and relax. To trust myself that I'm not making a mistake. That I'm looking for the best deals and making sure I buy what I need and saving my receipts for tax season. I'm not being frivolous. I'm not being irresponsible. These are things I have to repeat to myself again and again. And once more for good measure.

Also yes, I'm going to make mistakes. I'm going to have batches of wine that turn to vinegar or a super awesome idea for a beer that ends up totally bombing. In one sense, those mistakes will feel like money wasted; but in another sense, it's all part of the process. 

But my need for perfection and fear of failure are really a subject for another post. And another day's lesson in patience. Now how's about some cherries?

Eight pounds of sour cherries. Word.

It's Officially Official: TRUE BREWS Is Going To Be A Book!

Blueberry-orange wine, strawberry wine, and blackberry wine, all ready to get their ferment on.

I have been sitting on this for a few weeks now, bouncing and giddy and crazy-impatient to shout my news from the rooftops. I'm writing a book, y'all! Ten Speed Press took a gander at my proposal for a cookbook devoted to all things brewing and decided they liked what they saw. I've signed on with them to write "TRUE BREWS: Your Guide to Brewing Naturally Fermented Sodas, Beers, and Wine at Home."

Yup, this book is not only about how to brew beer (the fermented libation nearest and dearest to my heart), but also about brewing soda, kombucha, kefir, cider, mead, beer, sake, and fruit wines. And if you can think of another fermented beverage to throw in there, I'm totally game.

Saying that I'm excited is putting is extremely mildly. And not only am I excited to work my way through all these awesome brews, but I'm over the moon about working with Ten Speed. I have admired their cookbooks for years now. The Bread Baker's Apprentice by Peter Reinhart and Mollie Katzen's Moosewood Cookbook were among some of the first on my shelf when I started my cooking journey after college. Every volume they publish is so lush and engaging, filled with recipes and pictures that carry me into the kitchen and keep me there.

The chance to work with them seems like a dream. And the fact that my editor and the other folks at Ten Speed are just as excited to get their brew on as I am makes the whole experience even awesomer.

There's lots more on its way in the coming months. Lots more stories and pictures and brewing tales, and more than likely, a few brewing woes. I have a year to develop all these recipes and get them ship-shape for publishing.

My aim to is to develop one-gallon recipes for all of these brews and use the same basic set of equipment for each. This amount can be easily made and stored in the tiniest of tiny city apartments, but it still makes enough delicious beverage to be worth doing. I also think that smaller batches are more conducive to fun experiments!

These three buckets hold my first attempts at wine making: a strawberry wine, a blueberry-orange, and a blackberry (though I'm actually using olallieberries from the market last week. Shhh...don't tell.). So far, they are doing a great job of making my kitchen smell funky-fresh with their carbonated burpings. Fun times!

I'll be sharing my brewing adventures here on the blog, on Twitter, and on my Facebook page. I'd love to have you along for the ride, and I welcome your input at all times.

And when it comes time to taste-test, I trust I'll have a few volunteers, yes?!

P.S. For those of you curious about the status of my memoir about learning how to brew beer: When all the dust settled over last few weeks, I decided to concentrate my energy on TRUE BREWS and put the memoir on the back burner. It's definitely still there, simmering away, and will have its own time to shine in due course.

The possibilities are endless! Now decide.

Golden Gate Bridge - Dec 2010

See, I'm writing this book. It's about learning to brew beer. And it's about little bit marriage. Specifically, my marriage. As it stands right now, I'd say it's about 85% beer brewing and maybe 15% marriage. (You know, give or take.)

And it's really only about marriage in that the book is about all the adventures and misadventures my husband and I experienced while learning how to brew beer. During which time we also happened to be married. Homebrewing has been something that we loved doing together and that has occasionally (frequently) made us want to scratch each other's eyes out. To say that beer brewing brought out some of our issues is putting it mildly.

So here’s the thing: this book is suddenly becoming very real. As in publishers are looking at the proposal at this very minute and giving it the thumbs up or thumbs down. Until now, it’s been fun to play the “what if” game and write some sample chapters and think about this whole book-thing in a theoretical kind of way. But this is no longer this project that I’m thinking about working on. It’s becoming the project that I am working on.

When you start writing a book (or anything, really), the choices are endless. I mentioned in my proposal that I plan to visit a factory where they malt barley and make brewing extracts. Why not?! How fun would it be to visit that factory and see what happens behind the scenes? Very fun! Ok, what else can I throw in there? Let’s say that Scott and I struggled to work together when we first started brewing (true), but gradually learned how to be a team (also true) and that this was analogous to learning how to really be married to each other (triple true!). Excellent material!

But a book can’t be everything. It can’t be 100% about brewing beer and also 100% about marriage. It can’t appeal to men who care nothing about your marriage troubles and also still talk about marriage troubles. It can’t go to a publisher who wants a chick book and then involve a trip to a malt factory for no reason other than it sounds like an awesome thing to do.

You might be sitting there thinking, “Sure it can, Emma! You’re a fantabulous writer and you can do anything you want!” But, no. It can’t. Fantabulous writing skills or otherwise.

A book has to take a stand. I have to make a choice about how I really want this book to play out. I feel like the story of learning to brew beer and the story of our marriage are two inextricably linked things. That much is clear (thank goodness). But it’s the degree of each, the tone of the book, the audience who I’m writing to; it’s all these things that are starting to keep me up at night.

I could see both books happening. I could see a book about learning to brew beer that is much more journalistic, involves interviews with brewers and barley malters, describes the steps of the brewing process, and then touches on my marriage in a very superficial way. A way that holds the book together and gives it some human interest.

And then I could see a book about my marriage, loosely structured around how we learned to brew beer. I could see diving deep into what makes our marriage work, the things that made us struggle, and why they made us struggle. Scott and I have been through a lot in our relationship and I definitely have things to say. Things about relationships and marriage that I really want to say because I don’t think that they get said enough. And because there is a part of me that feels the need to say them.

I was already struggling with this, knowing that the decisions were looming ever nearer, when I had a conversation with an editor earlier this week. This editor was (is!) interested in my book, but definitely wanted it to take the more personal slant. We talked about the landscape of marriage and how to balance independence and dependence in the context of a relationship. Told through the metaphor of brewing beer. I told her that I didn’t want to write chick lit and she said, “Good. I don’t want you to write chick lit.” I said I’d have to think about it.

And I’ve thought and thought and thought about it. In the next few days, I’m going doing some sample writing with this slant and see how it feels.

It’s hard. I’m terribly susceptible to suggestion. I was already on the fence about which direction to take this book, and for an editor to tell me that they are interested in the book as long as it goes in a certain direction, well...well, that’s hard. It would be very easy to start believing that what this editor wants is also what I want.

I’m trying to breathe deeply and really look at what I want for this book. As my friend Dana would probably tell me, I’m trying to seek the middle path. The path that I haven’t really seen yet. Does this book have to be slanted to either the beer brewing or the marriage? Could it be more 50/50? Does writing about feelings and lovey-dovey stuff necessarily mean than men won’t read the book? Or that it won’t be taken seriously? When I take away my doubts and fears, my attempts at pleasing everyone, my blinders, and all my secret desires, what does that path look like? What does that book look like?

I don’t know. I really don’t know. There is no right answer. This book could be anything. But it also has to ultimately be something.