Showing all posts in Writing

In Books, Identity, Nurture, Personal Growth, Speaking, Writing

The Flashlight of Criticism

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
The Flashlight of Criticism

When we face criticism, we can spiral down in a funnel of shame, feeling less-than and outed for pretending to be better than we really are.

Or maybe that’s just me, because possibly my childhood was not as stellar as yours.

I know it’s unhealthy to attach my self-worth to my performance. These things are my products: writing, speaking, acting, grades; my identity is something different. This distinction is oh-so-clear in my head and not so obvious in my experience.

Everything in the arts is subjective. One person loves what you’ve written or taught, and the next person thinks it’s boring and useless. As a writer, I’ve volunteered to be criticized to try to make my work stronger and more effective. In a cold, clinical setting, I do understand this.

But in my heart it’s something different. Being told what is “wrong” with my manuscript is painful in some intricate way. It reminds me of how far I have yet to go to make my dreams into reality. I do realize that all writers face this. I’ve been through classes and writers’ groups before, processing negative feedback, but I still hurt at first.

Maybe it’s time to just allow this. To feel it, and not to attempt to rationalize it away or explain it. Some feedback wounds because we have more internal healing work to do. The criticism is a flashlight revealing our hidden chasms where shame and fear lurk in the darkness.

The key might be to reach out to the cheerleaders in our lives when we get knocked down. To ask for love and support so we can summon the energy to keep going, to continue believing that we are onto something as long as we don’t quit. Rough work is better than no work when it comes to creativity. Revisions exist to fix the little things.

I’m loving the process of working on this new YA novel. I don’t want to forget that. It’s fun to write, even if it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. It’s the book I longed to find on the shelf when I was 15 years old and that kind of passion is worth pursuing.

Often a pain that doesn’t fit with the circumstances is an indication that an old wound is being disturbed. That’s what I felt last week through a workshop round of mild criticism: a very old childhood fear that I am simply not good enough to compete in the arena I want to work in. The only way to combat this is to keep going anyway. To feel it, acknowledge it, cry a few tears, and then get back to work.

In Identity, Personal Growth, Speaking, University, Writing

Measuring Improvement

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Measuring Improvement

Measuring improvement can be challenging because it happens so slowly. But when it’s occurring  in a compressed period of time, say a spring semester of university, it’s more dramatic and obvious.

I’m almost finished my two classes this term and it’s interesting to look back and see how I’ve grown and changed in both of them. My favourite class by far is Young Adult Fiction in the Creative Writing department. I’ve learned so much from my professor, the KidLit textbook and my fellow students, inquisitive budding writers who are a pleasure to spend three hours with on a Monday morning.

Then there’s my English class. It’s a first year prerequisite that every student must take, and I’m the only mature student there. Monday afternoons I’m surrounded by eighteen year olds, several of whom have strong opinions on life that are diametrically opposed to mine. It makes for interesting debate but my blood has boiled on more than one occasion.

Returning to university in the fall was daunting, but the first Creative Writing class I took was a beautiful boost to my confidence (and the A+ grade I received didn’t hurt either). My YA class is a similar experience this semester, but English has knocked me down a few pegs when it comes to my grades and my abilities.

When I come home whining about another B+ after I put so much time into an assignment or an in-class writing exercise, Jason laughs and says, “This is good for you.” I routinely tell my kids that we can’t be experts at everything and often in life we have to settle for being “good enough.” It turns out I suck at taking my own amazing advice.

Yesterday I had to hand in my second paper of three in this English class. I put many hours into this thing and I know it’s the best work I can do at this point when it comes to thesis statements, topic sentences, and formal structured academic writing. I haven’t done this kind of thing in twenty-six years and I’m definitely rusty. I think I’ve improved over the course of the semester but I won’t know until I receive my grade.

The best way I have to measure my own improvement is the difference in my attitude. I’m not angry anymore that I didn’t get a string of A’s in this class like I wanted. I’m getting the marks that are suitable for my skills at this point. As Brene Brown teaches us, we have to make peace with the messy middle. When we learn something new, we fumble around in the dark for a long while before we get any semblance of capability for the task.

I don’t have a ton of patience for my own learning journey. I want to leapfrog ahead over the awkward, uncomfortable bits, even though I spent the month of February teaching conference sessions about the value of risk-taking, going straight into the hard stuff, and modelling vulnerability and authenticity. Sigh. Ain’t it great to be human and get so many chances to practice this shit?

We are all improving, every day, but the changes tend to be so minuscule that they become hard to measure. I know I’m a stronger and more capable writer because I’m back in university. I can feel it and see it demonstrated in the work I’m creating. But I’m definitely not good at everything.

When we learn new skills, floundering comes with the territory. The only way to push through that to the golden sunrise of accomplishment is to be patient, not to quit, and in my case, to accept my B+ with pride instead of frustration.

In Identity, Personal Growth, Speaking, Writing

The Direction of Your Dreams

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
The Direction of Your Dreams

Are you walking in the direction of your dreams? Is there an activity or a pursuit that makes your heart beat a little faster when you imagine yourself engaged in it? If so, are you moving toward this?

If not, why not? Fear? No money? Not enough time?

The older I get, the more I see that courage is what counts when going after your dreams. You don’t have to be rich, but you do have to be brave. You don’t have to be organized, but that does help when it comes to managing your time. However, anyone can learn to be organized.

Guts and perseverance are really the two biggest ingredients. JUST START. Don’t think your way into the things you want most. You have to work your way in by going after it and not taking no for an answer.

This week I’m in Edmonton, presenting four sessions at a large teachers’ convention. In 2015, I submitted three proposals to a Calgary teachers’ convention after going into Ava’s grade six class to run a fiction writing workshop. Her teacher encouraged me to submit to the district conference, even though my first instinct was, “Who in the world would want to listen to what I have to say?”

I pushed through my timidity and submitted. When I was offered contracts for February 2016 I was terrified but went with my knees knocking (it was cold but I was also nervous!) to stand up in front of a room of teachers and talk about writing and run a literary salon.

Last winter I upped my courage and submitted all over the place. I spoke at three major conferences in Alberta and this year I’m traveling every week of February to speak again. I’m less anxious this time because I know I am up to this task. I have some new material this year that I can’t wait to deliver and see how it lands as I’m considering writing a non-fiction book proposal on it.

I looked over my writing, speaking and acting goals at the beginning of this year and I realized that I am actually living out my dreams. I’m still inching away toward some of the biggest ones, for sure, but the areas I’m focused on for my career and my overall life are satisfyingly real. It’s so freeing and exciting to use your best talents in our world. And after many years of not receiving an income, to earn money for the things I’m good at and I love doing is marvellous.

How about you? What’s your big dream? Are you moving closer to it? I promise you, it’s not as far away as you might think it is.

In Identity, Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth, Speaking, Writing

Student

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Student

I’ve just begun my second semester at Kwantlen Polytechnic University. In the fall I took a Creative Writing class and fell madly in love with the notion of myself as a student, even as a woman in my mid-forties. I proved that I could succeed, I learned so much from my professor, and I gradually became aware of my weakest areas as a writer (story structure, stakes and imagery).

Now I’m enrolled in two courses on Mondays. In the morning I’m doing a third year course in YA Fiction with the same prof from the fall term and in the afternoon I’m in a first year English requirement class every student must take.

When I get home at 4:15 on Mondays my brain is a lumpy oatmeal-like mush but my soul is fulfilled and accomplished. I can literally feel myself becoming a better writer. My skills are sharpening up and my critical thinking abilities are waking up from hibernation.

We must all challenge ourselves. If you are terrified of something, whether it’s making a fool out of yourself, public speaking, traveling to a developing country (not a shithole one, though, as any sane person knows there is no such thing because all countries have redeeming qualities), taking a class or confronting someone when they are being offensive, by all means: DO IT. The longer you wait, the more power it has over you.

A long time ago I heard my beloved Rob Bell suggest that we write the word “student” on an index card and carry it around in our pocket to remind us that we are always learning. None of us ever have life figured out. I loved this idea and carried this card around for months.

Now I am actually a student. I’m working part-time as a background performer in Vancouver’s vibrant film and TV industry and it’s fun, educational and endlessly fascinating. It also pays for my classes and textbooks. This makes me feel both proud and satisfied, like I’ve given the best of myself to my kids, my husband and my community for the last fifteen years but now, hot damn, I am also building into my own career and education. And I love it.

We always have more to learn. Increased ways to grow and fears to face head-on. My anxiety over plane travel and possible turbulence has been aided by flying weekly last winter and this one for speaking engagements at teachers’ conferences in other provinces. Thinking about what scares us does not help us to overcome. We need to actually do it in order to break its hold on us.

Every one of us is a student of life. The key is to remain open-minded with a soft heart so we can adapt to the unique challenges we face. We can’t plan for every outcome, but we can build up our confidence and resilience by trying new things and succeeding.

In Identity, Minimalism, Movies/TV, Personal Growth, Speaking, Writing

Contentment

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Contentment

I turn 45 this week. I’ve been thinking back to when I turned 37 and my life began to change dramatically. It’s hard to believe that 8 years have gone by since then. I read once that it takes 7 years for a new city to really feel like home and I believe that to be true. I’ve been living now as my authentic self for the last 7 years and I’m finally beginning to settle in and enjoy myself.

The biggest thing I did at the age of 37 was create boundaries. I had existed my whole life without any clear idea of where I ended and someone else began so boundaries were brand new and terrifying to me. Thankfully, my amazing counsellor Joanne explained what healthy boundaries looked like and she helped me find the courage to set them and hold them when they were tested. This process helped me take control of my time and safeguard my emotions. It saved me.

I also began to experiment with saying no when I didn’t want to do something. A few months ago I looked back over my calendars since 2011 and I felt weary just paging through the many obligations, committees, coffee dates, church activities, etc. that I used to do. Learning to say no and not stress over the other person’s reaction to my decision has liberated me and I’m incredibly grateful.

Perhaps this also falls under boundaries and saying no, but over the last few years I’ve made hard choices about the people I allow into my life and these decisions have made me so happy. At first, it was painful and isolating, but over time I could feel my soul healing as I recovered from the intense people pleasing that had been my key mode in the early years of my life. Choosing not to have negative, draining, selfish people in my inner circles has made room for so many positive, kind, generous ones to take their place and my health is better every single day as a result.

Turning 45 marks a significant point in my life. I’m working steadily in the Vancouver area as a background performer in film and TV and I feel so alive as I walk out my biggest dreams. I worked on a big show a few times this month and while waiting for the bathroom at the studio I stood outside of the writers’ room, listening to them have a story meeting. My spine tingled with the excitement of it, and the thought “one day I’ll be in a writers’ room” didn’t feel far-fetched in the slightest. Instead it seemed inevitable.

I just finished my first semester of my university creative writing class. I know it’s not polite to brag, but finishing with a mark in the mid-nineties was reassuring after so many years away from school. Right now I have the feeling that I’m in the sweet spot when it comes to decades of pursuing writing, speaking and film work. It’s coming together, in a satisfying and unforced manner, and I am so content.

It’s only recently that I’ve actually decided to enjoy my life as it is, not how I once dreamed it could be. Chasing an elusive someday stokes up discontent and sadness. Staying present to notice what’s working well and paying attention to those you love who also love you in return is worth its weight in gold.

Here’s to marking the middle of my forties with gratitude, warmth and light. Our world needs us to be operating at our healthiest and happiest capacity. As a friend posted the other day, “Water only what waters you. Let go of anything that leaves you feeling thirsty.”