Category Archives: The Magazine

Magazine Update

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So I took myself to lunch the other day and forced myself to draw up a marketing plan.

I should be able to do this in my sleep—I’m a marketing director for Pete’s sake. (p.s. does anyone know who Pete is and why humanity is worried about his sake?) But creating a marketing plan for your own product is dang near impossible. (It’s not, of course, but it feels like it.)

Why is is so much easier to figure out how to market someone else’s stuff rather than the stuff you personally care about and want people talking about more than any other?

Anyway, the marketing plan is coming along.

We also have a name (Hip! Hip!): Be Magazine. I love it! And it’s so perfect for what this magazine is all about—for girls who are becoming.

I also have the URL, am working on the website, am gathering content for my first editorial year (gah! That is so crazy to type!), have narrowed it down to four logos, and created the Facebook page.

Speaking of … will you take a quick minute and go “Like” our page? I mean, only if you want to. You can also vote for your favorite of the four logos.

And of course, I hope you’ll share the page with all the teenage girls, parents of teenage girls, teachers of teenage girls, etc. that you know.

It’s getting real, y’all. It’s getting real.

Now Seeking: Full-time Personal Hype Girl

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Frit and I have watched these videos a couple times now during the last week.

And besides the fact that I’m particularly determined to birth a house full of girls just. like. this. I have also decided that I would like a personal hype-girl. Like, a full-time personal hype-girl. Wouldn’t that be totally awesome? Someone to just follow you around, giving you the confidence you need to be you and do those things that you really want to do?

The thing is … I realized this week that I have hype-peeps all around me. Ever since I announced my magazine launch I’ve begun receiving emails and comments and phone calls and text messages at exactly the right moment to keep me going. I’ve heard from people I haven’t heard from in years!-offering ideas and help or just simple support and encouragement.

And I can see that these things, these miraculous moments of “hype,” are full of providence and grace.

But this idea of “hype” is something I’ve actually been thinking about for a while. Although maybe not in that exact term.

Earlier this year I was talking with a friend about being a “champion” for the people around us.

champion noun \ˈcham-pē-ən\ 1: warrior, fighter 2: a militant advocate or defender 3: one that does battle for another’s rights or honor

And I think that in my obituary someday, I would like it to mention (among the other good deeds and charming particularities I was known for, of course) that I was just that–a champion for those around me.

That I cheered people on. That I encouraged. That I reinforced. That I complimented. That I was, in essence, a hype-girl to every person I met.

I think sometimes we’re so quick to come up with reasons why people shouldn’t do things, or why such-and-such won’t work, or why so-and-so would never be able to do whatever it is he/she has conjured up. But how different the world might be if we simply beamed with belief that they can, and should, do what it is they want to do, no matter how seemingly impossible. How many  more goals might be accomplished, businesses started, inventions invented, oceans crossed, and dreams realized, if we said, “That is awesome! How can I help you?!” instead of “Are you sure?”

So. I guess what I’m saying is that I’d like to offer my services. As your personal hype-girl. I believe in you (wherever you are). I really do. And I know you can.

Whatever it is. I know you can.

And … you know … If anyone is interested in becoming my full-time hype-girl, I’ll be accepting applications via email.

If I Could Make Love to a Printing Press I Probably Would

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My bed is covered in magazines. Magazines about everything. Seriously–everything you could possibly imagine.

I’ve just gotten home from meeting with three different printers where I jumped into the deep end and pretended like I knew all about paper weight, finish, perfect binding vs saddle-stitch, and 4-color offset printing.

I’ve got a fistful of quotes and a to-do list for the next three months that doesn’t leave much time for sleep.

I’ll admit. Today I felt a little overwhelmed and a little bewildered about how this is actually all going to happen.

But.

There was a moment today.

A moment when I was on a tour of one of the printing houses and my account rep (ha! I have an account rep.) led me into the press room. It was a massive room with machines for every purpose filling every square foot. There were some for binding and some for trimming and some for gluing and some for stapling and some for collating. Tubes and pipes covered the ceiling carrying ink and air and paper from one end to the other. It was incredible.

And in the center of the room were three presses. It was so loud I couldn’t hear what he was saying despite his yelling. He guided me toward the closest one; it was so big it probably wouldn’t fit in my living room, dining room, & kitchen combined.

Gigantic spools of paper, as big as a car, spun as fast as a speed-train through the rollers. Every few feet the print plates picked up a different color ink to paint the pages. First the black and then the blue and then the magenta and then the yellow. (That’s 4 color offset printing, just so you know.)

I watched it all fly by. Millions of letters being printed each minute. Page upon page of words.

My heart started racing and I got that butterfly feeling in my gut. You know–the one that tells you you’re in love? I could’ve sat there all day watching that beautiful dance between page and letter if he’d let me.

Words. They’re one of very few things, the thought of which, leaves me without them.

So yes, today I am bewildered.

But I’m also in love.

So over the moon in love.

With every letter of the alphabet.

With the way those letters form words, which then combine to create thoughts, that then have the ability to, quite possibly, change us, move us, and fill us.

And I’m in love with the idea that someday my words–my words–will fly by on that press, layered with color, to then be collated and bound and trimmed and mailed to a girl somewhere in the world who will then soak them up, and in turn, hopefully–hopefully–be better. Feel better. And love herself (and others) better.

All because of a collection of words.

Printed on a piece of paper.

Oh, Sorry. You Wanted to Know What “It” Is?

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I’ve received multiple emails the last couple weeks from friends who are very frustrated with my secrecy about my project/future/decisions. And to be honest, it’s been both difficult to keep things under wraps (cuz I’m so excited/certain/hopeful) and yet, quite easy at the same time (that’s that “fear thing” creeping in again).

But I had to get a few things in order before the cat was allowed out of the bag.

And now, it’s time.

(I couldn’t keep from smiling as I wrote that last sentence.)

But first, a little back story.

About five years ago, maybe six, I found out about an article in Seventeen Magazine entitled “Vagina 101: What’s Normal & What’s Not.” While I am a huge proponent of women being aware of our selves and our bodies, I was incredibly disheartened by the manner in which the information was dispensed. I felt it was inappropriate for the audience and forum and I joined a letter writing campaign to have the magazine removed from shelves. We were mildly successful.

Now. Before you go thinking I’m all about tearing up the Bill of Rights, believe me–as a journalist and writer I will fight for anyone’s right to freedom of press and speech, even when I disagree. However. I believe we have a duty to act responsibly when we’re feeding words and images to our youth. No, don’t burn books, heaven forbid. And don’t ban them either. But do think long and hard about how those words will influence a developing mind.

Anyhow, I kept flipping through the pages of the magazine.

A Q&A about dating and relationships caught my attention. One reader wrote in that she was thinking about having sex with her boyfriend. My eyes scanned her questions and rested on her name and age. Thirteen years old. Thirteen. years. old.

I read Seventeen‘s answer and my heart sank. It was not how she should have been answered. Where was the firm honesty about how sex at 13 would affect her for the rest of her life? Where was the “Don’t do it! You don’t have to! Why do you want to do this?” None of that was there. It was just a sterile, “Sex is a big decision. Think long and hard before doing it. And if you do, use protection.”

And in that moment an idea came to me. An idea that settled deep into my core and has stayed with me ever since. An idea that floats, no springs, to the top of the pool of ideas I slosh around in whenever I’m trying to figure out what in the heck I’m doing with my life. An idea that I want to run away from and yet run full speed into at the same time. An idea that I know I have to make happen.

I’m starting a magazine.

I’m starting a magazine for teenage girls based on standards and values. It will be less air-brushed, less fake, less celebrity drama and more real, more inclusive, more empowering. Oh, believe me–there will still be articles about what your lip-gloss color says about your personality, but there will also be articles about being (and becoming) the amazing women they are and were always meant to be.

There will be no mixed messages about modesty and sexuality and how those ideas play into self-worth and personal esteem. We will talk about education and dating and family life and health and beauty and fashion. But we’ll talk about the hard things too–drugs and sex and suicide–as these are things today’s teens are dealing with (whether you want to admit it or not). But we’ll talk about them within the context of moral truth.

What do you think?

So. Here’s where I need your help.

I need girls. Lots and lots of girls to fill out a survey (https://www.surveymonkey.com/s/GVVT7BY). There is SO much that goes into creating a magazine from scratch and I want to make sure I begin with as much information as possible. So would you please (please?!) send this link to as many girls, mothers of girls, teachers of girls, church leaders of girls, as you know? Post it on your blogs. Your Facebooks. Your Twitters. Send an email. Talk about it with friends. And tell them to forward it on too! Religious affiliation does not matter. This magazine will be rooted in spirituality, not religion.

My goal is to have 1,000 responses in the next two weeks. I don’t think I can do that on my own.

Y’all. My eyes are wide and full. I have a vision for what this can be–and I see a world-wide community of girls living up to the incredible within them. I see a place where they can come to talk “real life” and get real answers that will point them to the bright futures ahead of them. I see them dreaming and becoming. I see them loving themselves because they know who they are. I see them embracing their bodies and their minds and their hearts and their spirits. I see them living lives of greatness.

I’m planning to launch my premier issue in January 2012. Call me crazy, I know. That’s only 3 months away. And there’s much to do. Much to do.

But I’m only chewing one bite at a time. And the first bite is the survey. So here’s the link again: https://www.surveymonkey.com/s/GVVT7BY

Thank you for sending it to everyone you know. Thank you for being an ambassador for this magazine. And thank you for sticking with me through the blah. Truly. Thank you.

(So … what do you think?)

I Have Decided to Do It

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“Why aren’t you doing that?” he asked.

The car was dark, except for the neon glow coming from the lights on the dashboard. Beams from an occasional car heading in the opposite direction would illuminate his face for a passing moment, but even in those quick seconds I could see–his eyes said that he really wanted to know. He really was interested in what I had to say. He cared about my idea.

But despite his earnestness, we were only about an hour into our three hour drive home and I could feel myself getting uncomfortable with his line of questioning. And yet, I was also strangely exhilarated by it–as if something within me was waking up, saying, finally. Finally, we’re going to get to the bottom of this.

I tossed out a few safe (read: lame) excuses in response, but even I couldn’t deny the difference in my voice as I talked about it. And call me crazy, but it felt strangely akin to passion.

Passion? I thought. Isn’t that what I’d lost? Isn’t that what I’ve been hoping to re-find?

“No seriously,” he asked again. “Why aren’t you doing that?”

Apparently it was time to pony up the honesty–which was almost too much for me. I’d only met him no more than four hours earlier! But then again, honesty in those situations is sometimes easier.

Deep breath.

“I don’t know. I guess because I’m afraid of it,” I said. “I’m afraid I won’t know how to do it. I’m afraid I’ll do it wrong. I’m afraid I’ll fail.” And then I paused, knowing exactly what I needed to admit next. “But mostly (and oddly), I’m afraid it’s right–if that makes any sense.”

Once it was out I couldn’t stop. “But deep down, when I’m really honest, this is what I’ve wanted to do for years. It’s what I want to be doing now. And … I can feel it in my bones that this is what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“So … why aren’t you doing it?” he asked for the third time.

Silence.

I had no answer.

He was right. Why wasn’t I doing it?

In the weeks that followed, that conversation and car ride–in particular, his question–were on constant replay in my head. And I had no answer.

If I knew it was right, and if it was what I wanted to be doing all along … Why wasn’t I doing it?

Days later I recalled another conversation I’d had with a friend earlier in the year. She had asked my opinion about a creative endeavor she wanted to embark on, but didn’t know how it would turn out or what to do with it once completed. My response was, “When we create with the Lord, it will be what it needs to be. And it will go where it needs to go.”

How I needed to swallow my own medicine.

And then, in this series of providential events, I pulled out a book that had become my favorite summer read–a book that now sits next to my scriptures, if that tells you anything of its impact.

The opening lines begin:

Most of us have two lives. The life we live, and the unlived life within us. Between the two stands Resistance. … To yield to Resistance deforms our spirit. It stunts us and makes us less than we are and were born to be. If you believe in God (and I do) you must declare Resistance evil, for it prevents us from achieving the life God intended when He endowed each of us with our own unique genius.

And the book ends with this:

Are you a born writer? Were you put on earth to be a painter, a scientist, an apostle of peace? In the end the question can only be answered by action.

Do it or don’t do it.

Well. I have decided to do it.