Lost

Lost

I’m feeling lost. After a surge of excitement and scheduling after a big writers’ conference, I’m now floundering with so many possible projects to pursue and no clear direction on what should be the top priority.

Do you ever feel that way? Rudderless, slightly adrift, believing that it will all make sense eventually but for now you simply exist in a fog of too much of everything.

The cure, in the past, has been to embrace my frail humanity. To acknowledge that I am not a machine. Perhaps the worst part of being lost is the shame associated with our humanity. I want to feel like a world-beater, not a sad, confused person making my way through the dark on my own.

Life is made up of seasons. Some are bright, clear, happy. Others are murky, painful, baffling. Extending grace for the hard times certainly helps. I don’t have trouble offering love and nurture to those around me who are suffering, but when it’s me, the rules seem to change.

Eventually, the light will shine again and I’ll have a better sense of where I’m heading. I suppose I simply have to wait for that, and do the best I can in the meantime. Gentleness is the key here. Inching forward toward your goals, little by little, is better than no movement at all. After so many years of struggling with patience, you’d think it would begin to come easier. And yet it remains elusive.

I stayed after my creative writing class to chat with my professor about the number of projects I’m working on. She encouraged me to narrow my goals to four things and write them on an index card. I had a terribly hard time getting the list to four. I initially cheated and wrote eight by using slashes, essentially creating two categories out of one line.

After looking at this card for a few days, I realized there was too much on it. I worked at it again, creating four clear categories in my work life. Suddenly it was a little bit clearer, but I still feel overwhelmed.

What helps you when you feel lost? Do you wait it out? I’d love to hear any of your strategies.

The Year of Productivity

The Year of Productivity

I attended the Surrey International Writers’ Conference this past weekend for the first time and came away inspired and dejected, in equal measure, with a healthy dose of “It’s time to up my productivity game” thrown in.

The inspiration flowed abundantly throughout the three days of the conference. I went to a session on setting with the marvellous Eileen Cook that gave me an entirely new way to understand writing the emotions of a place. I attended two panels comprised of editors and agents, one for pitching and the other for querying, and came away with tons of fresh ideas.

My favourite workshop was taught by Liza Palmer, one of the funniest and most charming people I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. She gave me loads of helpful screenwriting techniques that I can instantly use in everything that I write.

But then there was the dejection. One early afternoon session, titled SiWC Idol, consisted of literary agents listening to the first pages of writers in attendance. The agents would throw up their hands when they wanted to stop reading. When half of the panel had their hands in the air, the moderator (the entertaining and debonair Jack Whyte) would stop and the panel would offer critiques.

It was a bloodbath. The gatekeepers of the literary world want top-notch work and may only give you two sentences to prove you’ve got what they’re looking for before they move on to the next writer.

It can be overwhelming.

When I came home, I needed a few days to let it all settle in, then I created a colour-coded spreadsheet, which I dubbed “The Year of Productivity.” It’s a business plan, of sorts, for the rest of this school year.

I broke it down by writing projects, general writing goals and what I need to do for my speaking career. I took the big areas (blue sky – thank you, Liza Palmer!) and broke them down into individual steps (i.e. finish first draft by writing 15 pages per week, outline series bible, adapt feature screenplay into a short for competitions, rewrite agent query, etc.). Each item has a month when it needs to be completed.

I feel reborn with this 2 page spreadsheet. So often we get stalled because we don’t know what to focus on or our goals become too broad and overwhelming. It really helps to see it all listed out on paper, with actual deadlines. I’ve highlighted this month’s action items in blue and I change them to red when each item is completed.

I printed a copy and put it in my writing binder. Now I have something to keep me on the straight and narrow, and I can add to it or amend as necessary. Thank you, SiWC, for the much-needed kick in the ass to help me get where I most want to go. One day I’ll be presenting there.

How about you? What does your year of productivity look like?

This Rejection Place

This Rejection Place

Between what we long for and what we have there is generally a gap. This place is where our discontentment thrives.

I long for a traditional publishing contract. I’ve been querying, on and off, on a spiritual memoir for almost three years. A ton of rejection comes with this process. I knew it when I started. Getting a full manuscript request from an agent early on was exciting, only to be told she liked it but didn’t think she could sell it.

Two story contests came across my social media feed this summer that I decided to enter. I wrote the two best stories I possibly could and sent them off with high hopes. Neither one made the shortlist, bringing back those ugly doubts and fears, whispering all day and night to my spirit: “maybe you’re just not a good enough writer.”

It’s dark and lonely in this rejection place. My psyche feels wounded and lost, like a dark cave where you forever hear water dripping, a sound that will eventually drive you mad.

I handed in my first flash fiction story in my creative writing university class. I was really happy with it, once again telling myself that I couldn’t do any better at this stage of my life as a writer. I got glowing feedback on it but didn’t achieve the perfect grade I wanted. Once again, that voice in the cave was back, taunting me with my own worthlessness.

I do know that writing is subjective. Criticism is meant to improve our skills and we shouldn’t take it personally. Sometimes it’s easy to take a bird’s-eye view of the whole process and console yourself with the fact that at least you are in the game. I’m putting myself out there and trying for something, and the price is the inevitable rejection.

Time heals and takes away the sting. I will keep going, but today I will allow myself to wallow a little in the hurt and frustration. The real problem, as always, is my own damn expectations. I start to write a happy ending to a particular submission story, when I have no actual control over the tastes of the judges or teachers or agents or publishers.

I can only do what I can do, then I must let go of the outcome. Sounds easy, but it’s the hardest part of the whole process. When will I learn this? When will I finally improve at it?

Rejection will always hurt. But it doesn’t have to stop us or define us. Bumps in the road will never stop cropping up. It helps to remember that the people who matter in my life will love me no matter what happens.

The key to resilience is picking up my pen and writing another word, another sentence, another character. I have to believe that not quitting is what will get me to where I want to go, even if it takes way longer than I want it to.

Going Back to University

Going Back to University

I’m going back to university this fall to finish my undergraduate degree.

I have one and a half years of college completed, but it was A) many moons ago and B) taken in the United States so most of it won’t transfer to Canada, which essentially means that I’m going back to school to start fresh on a degree that I was partway to finishing twenty-four years ago and didn’t complete.

But it sounds better to me to say I’m going back in order to finish, as attending school part-time in my mid-forties is a daunting task. I may still get some credit from my transcripts, but even if I don’t, I’ve decided to stop waiting around to complete this life goal (or at least inch toward it).

Our biggest goals are funny entities. At times, they feel so close we can touch them, and other times they elude us and drive us mad with frustration. One day this spring I realized that I’ve been talking about going back to school for so many years and no time seemed quite right to do it.

I did return to Weekend University in Calgary in 2009 but after one course I decided to put it on hold as running a home business, working part-time at a local newspaper, writing and managing life with a 6-year-old and a 3-year-old proved too much for me. At the time I thought I’d take a break for a year or two and then return when life settled down but suddenly 8 years went by and I realized I’d done nothing to get me closer to graduating with a Bachelor of Arts.

So I’m doing it now. My writing and speaking careers are chugging along, with small, happy milestones along the way to my biggest dreams becoming realities. Ava’s acting career is moving forward and I’m busy taking her to auditions and working with her agent on submissions. I’m getting a few days work here and there as a background performer in movies and TV shows. I just formed a production company with two people and I’m screenwriting and producing short films. It’s all an incredible amount of fun and feels like the right combination of tasks for me to be doing.

Returning to university, even for one class a semester, is equal parts terrifying and exciting. When I said this to my friend Pam, she responded, “Well, Julianne, if you aren’t terrified and excited you aren’t really living life to the fullest!” This helped to encourage me, probably more than she knows.

Ava is 14 and in a few years we will be touring colleges and universities for her. I won’t be anywhere near done my degree by then but at least I’ll be plugging away at it, chipping away at this goal that fell by the wayside for a number of (mostly) valid reasons so many years ago. I want to continue to challenge myself, to prove that I can do things that are way out of my comfort zone.

I can learn. I can work hard. I can dream big. I can model what I believe through my day-to-day actions. This time around, my degree will be in Creative Writing instead of Communications. It’s been a long and winding road to find my way back to my true self and to develop the courage to grow into my biggest dreams. I’ve never been happier.

It’s time to stop talking about this particular goal and get inching toward it. Better late than never.

Finishing Strong

At the end of June, most moms (and some dads) are limping over the finish line, just trying to survive the chaos that comes with the end of each school year and the transition into summer.

When my kids are tired, I tell them, “Try to finish strong.” I use this phrase myself to get through one more wind-up, field trip, teacher gift, bag of junk precious memories that comes home from school.

Usually, the end of June also means rushing to hit a series of writing deadlines so I can go into the summer with no articles due or strenuous daily word counts to hit when I’d rather be taking my kids to the pool or the beach.

There were a few deadlines I did not make and this work will carry into the summer. But yesterday I did type “The End” (the most blessed two words ever for a writer) on the first draft of my current manuscript, one I’ve been working on for the last eighteen months. I can tell you that it felt amazing to be finished, especially because we are going on vacation next week and I can put this story away to let it breathe before edits and get busy dreaming about the next book.

Any large project follows a series of steps. There’s the initial excitement, then the long, dreary middle, followed by the boredom with it when you just want to be done, and finally the actual end when you are sick of the whole thing. Finishing strong is an important concept for everything in our lives. If we don’t quit, we eventually see the fruit of our long labour. Yesterday I felt that satisfying rush that comes with not giving up.

Now I’m turning my energy and enthusiasm toward the summer. Today I soak up the beautiful silence of my house as I will be sacrificing this particular pleasure beginning on Friday. But I will also be gaining lazier mornings, coffee on the deck in the sunshine, impromptu visits outside with friends, later bedtimes and a sense of relaxed leisure. A chance to make new and lasting memories by slowing down and noticing more.

Happy summer, friends. Finish strong (or as close to it as you can manage). Then jump into summer with a light heart and a peaceful smile. I hope I run into you while I’m outside with my book or splashing in the water. We don’t get these precious days back. Enjoy them while they are here.