Terry Goodkind, bestselling author of the Sword of Truth series, just published a new book, Shroud of Eternity... And last week, he publicly dissed the cover art, calling it "laughably bad," and launching a free book sweepstakes for reader input.

I have a confession: One time, I wore a cocktail dress to a black tie wedding. 
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I felt like I had a reasonable excuse, though. It was a destination wedding, and I'd spent the two weeks before the wedding beach camping, surfing, scuba diving, and traveling around Mexico.​ No way I was doing that with an evening dress in my backpack.

Growing up, I could NOT complain about being bored. If I did, my mom would tell me, "Boring people lead boring lives." It never felt good to hear -- but guess what? I grew up into a person who never feels bored -- and who almost takes concerns like, "It might not be fun for you," or, "I'm afraid you'd be bored," as an insult.

Similarly, as an adult, I sometimes find myself telling people who claim that Valentine's Day is "dumb," "commercialized," or a "Hallmark holiday": "It's only dumb if you make it dumb." 

"If you find it uninspiring, it's only because you​ are uninspired.

(International Olympic Committee)

I know it's titillating to think about all the sex Olympians must be having. Just four days ago, journalists were abuzz with some very important news: the Olympic village will be stocked with 37 condoms per athlete.

I'm going to go ahead and state the obvious:

Just because Olympic athletes are taking a lot of free condoms, doesn't mean they're having a lot of sex. 

"That Christmas dress -- my lord!" someone said recently when I posted this photo on my Instagram. It simultaneously felt nice to get a compliment... and slightly uncomfortable, because for some reason, our culture drills into us that it's bad to accept a compliment. 

Apparently, it's that time of year again. I know this not because I've seen Girl Scouts out and about, actively developing business, social, and communication skills... but because I've seen parents posting links on their Facebook accounts.

All I can say is, "DON'T DO IT."

Last night, I made the biggest mistake of my life: I watched Open House, a Netflix original movie in which nothing happens for 80 minutes, and then in the last 10 minutes, everyone dies. You never find out who did it. It's literally just some random killer who is in no way connected to the characters or plot (except for when he kills them).

The movie was awful -- to the point that it is actually kind of offensive. But worse is the fact that I can never have that Monday night back. It's gone.

"Eva, just admit it," a guy friend insisted recently. 'You're a flirt."

"What exactly do I do that makes you think that?"

He pondered for a moment, before sheepishly answering, "You smile... and make eye contact.​

A short story in The New Yorker went viral this weekend! 

A short story! Fiction! Went viral! This is very new and exciting. 

But equally exciting is the number of conversations this story has sparked, and the lessons women (and men) can learn from it.

People who don't know much about life coaching love to poo poo life coaching. Like, looooove. 

And I understand why. The idea that a 25-year-old with two years of work experience knows what it takes to make you a CEO... is a little absurd.