Remembering Your Voice

Here’s the one thing I want everyone to remember as you’re writing, as you’re looking for answers to your writing and publishing questions, as you’re living in a very noisy world where everyone is fighting to share their opinions and be the one that is right.

The only voice that matters, especially as an artist trying to do the hard work of getting words down on the page, is your own.

The problem is this world is so hard. We’re tired of thinking and even of existing. We want answers from someone, everyone, often not the “right” people - people who you would never trust your mom with but you paid and you’re there and it would be so hard to make another appointment and they seem so sure about what they’re telling you so why not? Why not just let their voice overpower yours so you can take a nap?

Last year, Zelda, my ten-year-old pug, was dying. I have human children and I have furry children. I treat them all as the magical creatures I’m lucky enough to only be a caretaker of for as long as they need me, just like I shepherd the books and authors I work with. I take that responsibility seriously. If I don’t like the answer someone I’m asking for help with any of my kids or animals gives me, I go to someone else until I hear the answer I always knew in my gut and I can use in a way that works for all of us.

But last year, I was tired. My husband travels often for work so he was in Canada for a year while I worked, parented, car pooled, and socialized alone. As an autistic human who needs long stretches of solitude to simply interact with anyone at a tiny level, this was very hard for me. But I put my head down and pushed through except when Zelda started to fall apart.

Now, I saw it early. I took her to my vet’s office many times. One doctor told me that she missed her dad. Another dismissed all her problems just like us humans are dismissed so many times by the powers that be in the medical field. Why do we let them claim to know our bodies better than we do? Why did I fall into the trap of thinking they knew my soul animal better than I did?

It took me a minute to find someone else but I’m still mad I waited so long, even though that angel told me there was nothing that could have been done no matter how early I caught Zelda’s downfall.

But I think about that often. How easily I let those first few vets dismiss me and Zelda. And how much misplaced trust we’re putting in supposed experts when our voices, the voices that should be our true guiding star, are screaming at us to listen.

So now I go inward. I give myself time and space to think before assuming I’m wrong and they’re right just because they have a degree on their walls. I wish you the time and space to do that too. That’s all I’m trying to do here. Remind you that nothing you’re doing is wrong, there’s nothing that is completely “right’ in the business of writing and publishing, and the only always right thing to do is listen to your voice. It will often give you all the answers that you need.

That’s why I am so careful to act more as a cheerleader and as a teacher. I want to empower you to go off and write your own book in your own way. Beautifully human. Flawed. Shaped by your life and experiences. In a way that only you can.

I’m here for you. I’m sending you such good writing vibes and I can’t wait to read your work in your voice.

Warmly,

P.S. This newsletter is a true labor of love. I write it in the cracks of my daily life with two high need kids, one high need dog, and all of the paid work I do for my clients, making sure I am 100% present and ready for all of the beautiful words they trust me with. I couldn’t do this without the support of my paid subscribers. If you’re enjoying my newsletters and they’re helping you feel less alone, please consider upgrading. I record an exclusive weekly voice memo for my paid subscribers along with other fun perks. But the most important thing is that you’re making this newsletter possible for everyone, including me.