I found this email written out in my drive from last summer. It was a written and forgotten kind of reflection. After some polishing, I wanted to share. The weather is warming up, we are all starting to emerge from our winter hibernations. I hope you are all getting some much needed sunshine and healthy creative time lately!
Before I get into it, though:
I have been (impatiently) waiting for a new season of this cool blend of fiction and nonfiction. I may need to start relistening to their episodes while I wait.
Digital Folklore is “an immersive podcast exploring online culture, internet monsters, memes, and everything in between.” I find their epsiodes entertaining, but I am also fascinating by the way they are telling their story. You follow the two hosts as they do a kind of Scooby Doo investigation into folklore and the impact the digital world has had on the stories we tell. They interview experts in the field (all of them making me wonder why I didn’t pick folklore as my major in college) and begin uncovering some strange phenonmenon in their podcast world. And there is a racoon side kick. How can you go wrong??
While you read on, I’m going to go download the episodes from season 1. Just writing about the podcast has left me with a craving….
So I’ve been indulging in some reality TV while on summer break. As a teacher, I had just spent 9 months working at 110% to be a good teacher, be there for my family, be proud as a mom, care for the nutrition of my family, clean, and find time to do things just for me (read, write, veg out on Instagram reels) and (maybe?) exercise, and, of course, rest so I don’t burn out.
Then my dumb ass mapped out these great summer goals, plans to really get to all those writing business tasks that are always put off because I don’t have time in the school year, and finish a couple first drafts, oh, and be sure to take time to publish, it’s been almost three years since I’ve done that and I have a piece ready to go, been ready for along time. I’ve got 8 weeks, GO!
Come on! I know better!
This is my long way of saying that I took some much needed rest watching The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives. My body was telling me I needed rest, my husband was telling me, my daughter’s day care was saying it. So I rested.
Took me a week to watch the first episode of Mormon Wives. Then I took one day and watched 3? 4 episodes? I wasn’t even keeping track. I watched until I was tired of the drama and then climbed into bed to do some reflective writing (the journal entry version of this email, honestly), and then get cozy with a good book (The Castle of Otranto, been on my TBR list for a while and now I can’t put it down, the drama is messy, just as messy as Mormon wives, except royalty and Catholicism in the 11th century. Before there was Henry VIII, there was Manfred).
ANYWAY, I’ve spent a good chunk of my day on Mormon Wives I can’t help but relate to some of the hurt and pain these women express in the show. Don’t get me wrong, these women are sloppy, so much fabricated and over the top mean girl drama, and I’m here for it. Messy influencer drama is one of my favorite guilty pleasure rabbit holes.
I’ve already gone on way too long about Mormon Wives. My point is that so many people are doing their absolute best and still feel like they aren’t good enough.
Becoming a mom has led to so much growth for me. Apart from the obligation of care and love for my daughter, I also have an inner pressure to be my best self for her, to be the mom my daughter will be proud of and look up to, to be the example.
That’s perfectionist speak for being a flawless mom all the time. No pressure, or anything.
After a couple years of mind boggling growth (her and me), I find inspiration in balance. No one can do it all. No one is perfect, so all I find myself left with is balance.
Burnout is a common plight among authors, especially indie authors (see Johnny B Truant, Joanna Penn, Kristine Kathryn Rusch, the list can go on and on, and these are just the big names in the indie publishing realm!) When I first started my author journey, I wanted a road map. I found a book that I still think about sometimes, Indie Author Survival Guide. I haven’t read it. It was difficult to find and was an outrageous price on Thriftbooks. I couldn’t talk myself into getting it, and I was right. This book was written in the 2013, a different world in publishing altogether, especially indie publishing. But it was so appealing. It was the road map I wanted (or at least I thought it was).
The hard part with writing is that there is not one-size-fits all check list, no step-by-step guide on how to write and support the work of indie authors. So, like motherhood, all I am left with is balance. Balance the advice you adhere to. Every podcaster, speaker, besterseller, fill in the blank advice giver has the secret to success. It may have worked for them (which is fantastic for them!) but there are no one-size-fits-all journeys, no shortcuts (except from those that come from really really good luck).
Balance is how I spend your time. You can’t read every book on your TBR list AND write a book a month AND keep up with your social media AND generate book ads AND figure out how to sell direct AND keep up with the latest news. Maybe if you skipped eating, but I don’t think that is doctor recommended.
Balance in your life. Friends and family (your support system), moving your body, breathing fresh air, cooking healthy (enough) food (unless you decided to skip food, like I suggested above, against doctor recommendations).
I started off this email wanting to share what I’ve learned over years of trial and error, learning, and reflecting as a part time author, full time everything else. I started brainstorming what I tried, what hasn’t worked, what I do now, but then I realized that what I do doesn’t matter. What I’m doing right now, what is working for me to get words written on the page and get the tasks checked off on my to-do list isn’t what I’ve learned. As of this writing, I’m looking at four more weeks until I am back in my classroom teaching full time. What I’m doing right now is going to be irrelevant before the weather cools.
As I get closer to the start of the school year, I have some reflection time marked off in my calendar. I ask my students to do this after large assignments, when they make mistakes, or at the end of units. It’s a step in the learning process that is often skipped, but is invaluable. I learned, as a teacher, to make time for reflection in my lesson plans, and I’ve learned, as a functioning adult with hopes and goals, to make time for my own reflection. After completing the first draft, the second, after hitting publish, I reflect. What went well? What was a struggle? What do I want to repeat for next time? What was the foolish perfectionist version of myself putting in my way of getting what I want done? After a season (yearly season, or a season of life), I reflect. What went well? What was a struggle? Not after every project or after every season, but every time I do, I get something out of it.
Our brains like to move on autopilot, but we can’t move on autopilot. This is why I need people in my life to point when I get stuck in rigid thinking. So what if I set a deadline for myself. I could stick to a deadline, but my daughter was sick and I was lucky enough to catch it and I’m finally feeling well enough to take care of the dishes after a week of laying in bed. My laptop hasn’t been open. So I set a deadline. Am I supposed to penalize myself for not meeting it? Would I penalize one of my students? My husband? My daughter? We are often our harshest critic. I have to remind myself often to be nice to myself. I spend so much time with me, it would be easier if we got along.
Through reflection, I am learning flexibility. I’m learning self-compassion. I’m learning to slow down. What is the point of making it to the finish line (whatever that finish line is, depends on the day for me), if I’m broken and burnt out?
I won’t finish the two drafts I’m working on this summer. That was a perfectionist goal. I’ll be lucky if I finish one by the end of the year (spoiler from future: I didn’t finish the draft until January), but I wrote over 800 words today. I am 800 words closer to the end of my draft. That is what I’m able to accomplish right now. It’ll be different tomorrow, different next month, different in a year, in five years. I know I’ll figure it out.
There are no rules. Your art, your time, your life, all yours. What do you want to do with it?
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