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Local Order Form

I am so appreciative of the support Praying Through it All has already received. I’ve been blessed with wonderful friends and readers, that’s for sure! I’m not sure if I’ve ever mentioned this before, but it’s quite a scary thing to put something personal out in the world (it’s a big reason I haven’t done much marketing this time around!).

I’ve created a Google Form for local folks who would like to order a copy directly through me. To be fully transparent, this option is best for the author. I’ll also be sharing an Ingram direct link this week (hopefully!). Basically direct orders allow me to keep more of the royalties.

Here is the order form. Thank you!

Social (media) Detox

I’ve managed to keep off of Facebook and Instagram for a little over a month now. It feels AMAZING to untether myself from that addiction. But how will I connect with readers and provide updates? Hopefully from here, which means I’ll need to be much more intentional about this space.

My plan is to update the website more regularly. So what have you missed since my last post? Well my first self-published book, THE LINN COUNTY FAMILY OUTDOOR GUIDE, is out and in the community. What a fun adventure this has been! I have another library visit in the works, so check back here for more information in the coming weeks.

Are you local and interested in ordering your own copy? Check out Swampfox, Next Page Books, Scout, or the Marion Chamber of Commerce. You can also order directly through me at a discounted price: https://forms.gle/yuTP1PwFzSoc47hL6. Non-local orders are still available through Amazon.

So what’s next? I’m currently revising a cozy romance novel set in Iowa during the farmer’s market season. And yes, the research has been just so fun and delicious.

Are you interested in reading a bit of my new project? Email me! I’m looking for a couple of beta readers to offer timely and honest feedback. You can write me at BriannaBaranowskiWriter@gmail.com.

I think that’s all for now. Enjoy the last fleeting moments of summer, rest assured glorious fall is almost ready to arrive and wow us all.

Exciting Announcement!

After months of research and writing, I’m so proud to announce that THE LINN COUNTY FAMILY OUTDOOR GUIDE will launch on March 19th (the first day of spring)!

THE LINN COUNTY FAMILY OUTDOOR GUIDE is a family-friendly resource that encourages readers to take their kids outside and enjoy local nature. Focusing on Linn County, Iowa, this book provides comprehensive research on all Linn County parks, Iowa state parks within Linn County, and Linn County trails, preserves, and natural areas (with several bonus areas highlighted as well). It also weaves a motivational narrative meant to be relatable and uplifting. I believe that a book like this is needed in our area, especially in a time when American kids are spending less than ten minutes a day outside. 

Stayed tuned here and on Facebook for more information, as I’m still currently logged off Instagram for lent.

Monarchs

My mama and my grandma

and the woman before-

she migrated north and fluttered some more.

With broke down wings and metal grill screams,

they beat and they bled to set me free.

Women drank the poison, toxins swimming in their veins,

all for me to end up soft, can’t take no pain.

Took three generations to break their curse

just to die, but they laid their hope down first.

I try to carry their strength upon my back-

I’m flyin’ south, flutters whisper all I lack.

Because of the women before, I will migrate-

I owe it all to them…they are my great.

Able to soar high, or at least I’ll try-

leaning on their generation’s borrowed traits.

Fragile Hope

To love someone with an addiction is to have your heart broken time and time again. You mourn them while they’re still alive. As their cheeks hollow and their soul slowly simmers to sour, you know part of them is already gone. And I know it sounds negative to say this next part out loud, but even their recovery is a million opportunities to be ripped open at any moment’s notice. 

Recovery from addiction is a fragile, delicate thing. It’s a hatchling too close to the edge of its nest, thinking about jumping before its feathers have arrived. It’s a bead of condensation slowly slipping from a glass left outside in the heat. It’s a snowflake that lands on your finger, displaying all its intricate glory for mere moments.

But unlike the snowflake, or the water drop, or the defenseless state of the bird, recovery doesn’t have to be temporary. It can be permanent. Solid. As forever as an infinity symbol or God’s love. The only problem is, we never know the outcome of a loved one’s journey to getting (and staying) clean ahead of time. We never really know if this time it’s going to stick. And that uncertainty is the biggest gamble on heartbreak I can imagine. 

Because when do you know it’s time for tough love? Or time to turn away from who they have become? How do you dare yourself to celebrate their milestones towards sobriety while relapse stares you down from behind them? When do you decide to allow yourself the chance of pain and disappointment in order to love and support them with open arms and hope abound? 

I sure don’t know the answer, but I do know that the people in your life who love an addict are wrestling with these questions daily. 

I’ve witnessed people pull themselves out of the pits of despair and get themselves clean. It wasn’t without setbacks, but it happened. And I love people who I thought for sure would never backslide, only to know they’re active in their addiction again. I’ve lost loved ones because of their addictions, feeling the weight of pain but not of surprise or disbelief. I’m mourning loved ones who are currently very much alive, even if I know I can’t recognize them right now. 

Again, I don’t know the answers. And if you’re in recovery, I think you’re the strongest kind of person that can exist. You should be so proud of how far you’ve come. Or, if you’re  hoping to get clean, I don’t know the best path for your journey. But I know it’s possible, and life giving. And I also know it can’t happen while you’re living under the same circumstances that brought you down. You can’t be clean and still hang around addicts. You can’t be clean and think you can handle this alone. Please, for the people who already miss you- find your support, cling to a healthy routine, and free yourself from what holds you hostage. 

Body

It’s been skinned knees while climbing up trees,

rollerblades dragged by a puppy on a leash.

Mom hates hers, Grandma does too-

should I hate this body? Haven’t got a clue.

Given a candle for purity. But why’s the burden always on me? 

Told not to make the boys stumble, but what if 

I make a mistake? What if I fumble? 

These urges, they come naturally.

It’s been goals and steals, laps

and counterattacks.

The stop clock runs out on the play

this body is on fire, get out the way.

What is this body? What do you want it to be? 

It’s been objectified and enjoyed-

it’s been grabbed and pinched by the boys.

It’s been controlled and then blamed,

violated and shamed.

It’s been respected and not

told it’s ugly and hot.

Flat as a pancake, are you anorexic?

Dress how you’ve been taught.

This body- it’s more than you see.

It’s buzzing with strength and anxiety.

It’s crushing the obstacles, and

it’s carried my greatest joy, my babies.

Not without pain, it’s also betrayed me

watching that first baby drop out and bleed.

The first life it made, it couldn’t last

we conceived our rainbow, almost too fast.

Stretching, expanding, the lines of life appear.

Our first boy, bringing hope and fear.

They touch my belly, make their comments-

how can I make their words disappear? 

This body, it birthed our son

though my pelvis wanted to keep him.

The tearing, the pain, I remember so clearly-

but he was worth all it had to overcome.

What is this body? What do you want it to be? 

It once fit a certain societal mold

but now I’m a mom, what does it hold?

It’s engorged breasts, everything else is softer-

I want everything covered, this body grows cold.

Another son, this body has made,

instead of push, I was strapped down and laid.

his tiny hand, it grasped my shaking fingers-

This scar for him will never fade.

Now these hands are full, they always say-

strangers look at me and grin.

But there’s something they cannot weigh

my heart’s fuller than it’s ever been.

What is this body? What do you want it to be? 

It’s simply that. Just a body.

But I’m proud that it’s mine.

I don’t love it or hate it-

just learning to be kind.

#1000hoursoutside Challenge- 2023

Because otherwise I’d never leave the house in January

If you don’t know me very well (yet), here’s the quick rundown:

Grew up in Southern California

Maintained an active and adventurous life outdoors (hiking, surfing, swimming, etc)

Moved to Iowa in 2013

Whines when it’s less than 60 degrees Fahrenheit

Assumes full hermit status during winter months whenever possible

That’s basically the necessary schema to understand why a commitment to spend 1,000 hours outside with my family this year may leave me slightly in over my head. I mean, that’s about 83 hours a month/19 hours a week/2.7 hours a day. It’s not, nothing. In fact, we’re talking a possible double overhead situation (for all you surf enthusiasts).

But it’s also entirely accomplishable, as evidenced by someone I admire in Iowa whose family just celebrated their 2022 met milestone. Her reflections and photos throughout last year are what inspired me to adopt this challenge for my own family. And I was pleasantly surprised to find out that everyone was on board. Except that also means if anyone’s going to screw this up, it’ll be me. Womp womp.

So here I am, four days into this challenge and making it even harder for myself to quietly slip away from all accountability. Maybe I’m a fool to make this public. Maybe I’ll inspire you to get outside. Maybe you’ll roll your eyes and block my account. But one thing is certain, you can expect full honesty and a complete lack of self dignity when it comes to these updates. To quote Ginny Yurich on her website 1000hoursoutside.com, “Even if you fail, you win.”

How often can you expect updates on our progress? Ha, I have no idea. I’d love to say I’ll be super organized about this and post blogs weekly or monthly or one of the meanings of bi-weekly (is it twice a week or every two weeks?!), but instead I’ll shy from that kind of promise- let’s just see how it goes, okay?

How has it been going so far?

Okay, so it’s only January 4th, when resolutions and goals are notoriously still on track and the positive momentum is high. But even still- this challenge has drastically altered the way I ‘January.’ Typically, in Iowa, I spend as little time outside as possible. My instinct is to hibernate with a blanket, some snacks, and loads of screen time. Which isn’t healthy or fun or even how I’m used to being alive. I’m also responsible for the physical and mental health of two young children (3&5) so it was all the more important I shift my perspective.

We’ve officially tracked 3.5 hours outside so far. Realistically we’ve done more than that separately but I’m trying to log in time spent together. It doesn’t sound like much, but it includes: Wanatee Park, Pinicon Ridge, reading, walking the dog, and motorized Jeep driving. The temperature has been in the 30s and this includes going outside during icy drizzle, snow, and very sleek sidewalks. Overall, I’m proud of our small but significant start.

Winter takeaways

This might sound lame, but you guys! There are no bugs! They like, have burrowed underground or whatever and they’re not buzzing in your ears or sucking your blood or crawling up your ankles. It’s…pretty sweet. I also discovered that I really enjoy the feel of stepping on frozen grass and ice and snow mounds. It crunches and flattens and gives just a little bit of delightful sensory input. We’ve also spotted deer, hawks, cardinals, and eagles.

I’ll leave with this, I’ll probably always be a summer kind of girl, but I’m beginning to warm up to January like frozen fingers finding their way into the perfect pair of gloves.

The Precipice?

I’m not going to lie to you. I’m tempted, to be sure, but I’ll remain truthful. I’ll cough it up, phlegm and all.

I don’t think I’ve been using the word ‘precipice’ correctly. There. It’s out in the world.

For weeks, months, I’ve entertained a gnawing mantra that seemed to be playing on a continuous loop in my mind- I’m on the precipice. Something big is going to happen, and it’s going to happen SOON. I’m on the edge of either a monumental milestone for my writing career, or I’m going to consider shelving this manuscript for a bit. I was teetering, but hopeful.

The eagerness, the buzzing anticipation reverberating through my body savored this feeling, this moment of precipice in my life. Sure, I was weary from waiting. But what’s a little patience when you’re on the precipice?

And then I double checked the definition. Turns out, being on the precipice isn’t so much about the coming of big things-it’s literally the edge of a cliff. Like, a deadly cliff where one sneeze on the precipice and you’re plummeting to your own demise.

And if that doesn’t equally sum up querying this year, phew. A little uncanny, to be honest. I kid. But that literal translation, though accurate in morbid relation to these authentic perilous feelings, sends a much darker message than I intend.

So I’ll clarify-I am not on a precipice. I’m merely in limbo. But don’t worry, Dante has a good feeling I’ll be able to claw my way outta here.

MLMs are Killing Authentic Connection

I’m just gonna say it. And I don’t care if it makes me sound like my feelings are hurt, because, well, they are hurt. 

They’ve been hurt by false friends using connection as a dangling carrot to lure me into their MLM. 

To buy their products. Or host their parties. Or join their challenge groups. 

And I’ve caved and participated in it all. And I’ve regretted it every single time. It changed our dynamic. It changed the way I saw you. You were no longer a friend, you were more like a trafficker. And I’d been duped. 

Was losing my friendship worth it to you? Actually, don’t answer that. 

And of course this isn’t aimed at one person in particular, the disease that is direct sales has poisoned the well of so many.

The old high school acquaintance who messaged me about Beachbody shakes days after I shared my first postpartum swimsuit picture. “I thought of you because the group is mostly moms, some brand new mamas like yourself trying to lose baby weight or get back in shape after kiddos!”

The close friend who talked to me less and less about guys and home renovations and more and more about samples and testimonials for ‘her’ makeup line. “Hey Bri!!!  I know it has been way too long since we have seen each other!  I hope everything is going well.  I just wanted to send you a little message, it would be great to see you next Thursday if you can make it. I would love to share BeautyCounter’s mission and products with you, I think it is something that you would be interested in.”

The former colleague who messages me incessantly about hosting book parties, pretending to give a shit about my family before getting to her bottom line. “ Hey Bri! How are you?! How’s your summer ☀️ going?! Anything fun planned?! I wanted to reach out and let you know that UBAM just released over 100 new titles last week📚! “

Please, can 2022 just be the year we cut the bullshit? 

I just really think we need to address how manipulative and phony it manufactures the connections that you have in this life. Real connections in this lonely world are special and should not be beaten to death. It’s costing you, and maybe my friendship is worth the loss, but down the road you’re going to realize I’m not the only one whose mind has changed about you. 

And I’m sure that sounds judgmental, but it’s more than that. It’s watching you post about your miracle products and how the company changed your life and now you’re recruiting more boss babes to take control of their finances and freedom…and seeing that the only path to that freedom is to use the networking and people available at your expense. Us. And it…sucks. It sucks that pressuring me to ‘support your small business’ means I have to host yet another online party and send out customized messages to my acquaintances and further expand the cycle. 

Because the truth is, I’m now an accomplice to the manipulation and bullshit. I’m just as guilty. It’s destructive and let’s face it, you’re tapping out of your well of former friends to use at your disposal. So let’s just end it, okay? 

If you need to push products or host more parties, tell it like it is, and not what you’re veiling it to be. Don’t parade this as some kind of opportunity for us to hang out or connect. Because I’m not buying it anymore. 

I’m not buying any of it, anymore.