I didn’t get any likes from any agents in #sffpit yesterday, but I celebrate myself for thirty pounds lost. To make my doctor happy, I have to lose thirty more pounds. Please understand that I will still be overweight by American standards, because it would take putting myself in danger in losing any more weight than that. But my doctor will be happy, I’ll be healthier, and I’ll get to wear cuter clothes.
It’s no excuse, as I’ve said before, but my writing seems to be placed on the back burner with teaching classes, taking care of my seedlings downstairs, and trying to talk myself into writing books. Early morning used to be my usual time, and I have been doing flighty, wasteful things in those hours like surfing social media that seems forever the same. Even now, I’m surfing instead of writing this, and the internet has gained few charms.
I need to find a time and a place to write, one which allows me routine. Perhaps I need to promise myself half an hour every day after tea and before I go to work. (Yes, I have daily tea, usually pu-erh, which is Chinese health tea, and an acquired taste).
I’ll be honest with you; I don’t have too many readers to serve as an incentive, and I don’t know how to get more readers. So I need another incentive. I write a newsletter that has about 2400 readers, so I could let them know there’s a blog. But then there’s another consideration —
Is this a personal blog? If so, should anyone want to read it? Is it a current events blog? If so, can I do as well as others who are in that line of work? Is it a writing blog? I’m certainly up to that, but there are better and well-read clients.
I’m looking for an identity for this blog because I need one to — *gasp* — market it.
This is my weakest link. I don’t enjoy bragging about my work. I don’t enjoy getting in people’s faces with a project I love. I don’t even know how to do it well, but I know that without it, nobody knows what I’m doing. Who am I? What is this blog? Nothing special. You can see why I don’t do well with marketing.
If you have any perspective to offer (do not offer services to me because I cannot afford them) please let me know!
According to my log of posts, I have been gone exactly a month from writing. It feels like longer. I need to write again.
I could say “things got busy”, but that’s not the whole truth. I had free time, but I slept much of it. Writing my novels fell by the wayside, although I proofed a couple novels using ProWritingAid, because it was easy and didn’t take too much thought on my part. I dealt okay with routine things, but did nothing truly creative.
I have to break out of the cocoon that depression wraps around a person, the lassitude, the negativity, the self-loathing. I’m working with my doc to remedy the depression on the medication front. The rest is up to me.
I was depressed.
I’m still depressed, but I realize that I have to reach out again to break out of my solitude, just in case someone responds. I have to put myself in the stream of humanity, so it reminds me I am part of it.
I have to go back to writing, to find my soul within the flow of words.
Hello again! Expect my usual content soon.
In this blog, I will talk about dieting (and the “non-dieting” that passes for dieting now), weight and health. I am approaching this as an obese person who is now being asked to change my way of eating and exercising in order to get healthier. I struggle with lifestyle changes, often because the instructions seem vague to the obese person.
I will not use the word “fat”, which has been used to shame people with a specific health issue, unless mentioning fat-shaming. (If you don’t believe this, ask yourself this: Do I shame athletes with fractures and pulled muscles by calling them “gimps”? You know, they did it to themselves.)
I have been dieting all my life, or at least half of my life. Anyone with weight issues has. It’s an alarming lifestyle, spending half of one’s life eating bowls of green leaves, and the other half trying to make up for the feeling of deprivation by eating ribs at Applebee’s. My true nemesis, though, is really sweet things like good chocolates, toffee, and gooey butter cake.
Other people eat sumptuous things much of the time. Those of you who are less than twenty pounds overweight for your height and age, you’re unaware of how lucky you are. You don’t have to work as hard to be your weight, whether this be that you can eat anything, or that your body moves the way your heredity designed a good body to.
A few weeks ago, I went to see my doctor, and it turned out that my “numbers” were not good. Not only the weight, but the glucose and other numbers that weight may affect. This was something I’d never experienced as an obese person before, and I found it alarming. As a result, my doctor easily convinced me to eat a plant-forward diet with low fat and moderate carbs.
The advice from my doctor was simple: half your plate should be vegetables. The vegetables should be colorful. Eat lean meats. Cut back on bread. Don’t weigh yourself. Exercise more.
Easy-peasy, I thought.
The plant-forward diet takes a lot of work. It takes a bit more cooking and less “here’s two hamburgers for dinner.” It takes a bit more variety — sugary foods had been my substitution for boring dinners. Sometimes it takes eating frozen vegetables for convenience, and I’m not always hungry for those at the moment (I’ve had some terrible frozen vegetables). It takes menu planning, and as I’m not the menu planner in the family, it takes a certain amount of patience.
Now, after a couple of weeks living this way, I have questions. Lots of questions.
These are questions I’ve never seen answered. I know well that this dietary and behavioral change will have to persist for the rest of my life. I wish someone who coaches lifestyle changes could answer these questions for me.
The thing to remember here is that I am not doing this to be of normal weight — my body will never be of normal weight. My lifestyle change will take me from obese to overweight. I will be healthier, but I will still be “fat” by judgmental societal standards, and I will have to accept that. If I could afford a tummy tuck, that might put me in the weight range for my size. But the insurance industry considers that cosmetic surgery and not a matter of health. So I have to accept that I can only be smaller, not actually small.
We all have different lives and different choices. I won’t say “wherever you are on the journey”, because that sounds incredibly condescending, like my journey is best. I don’t know if my journey is best, because I lose that identity of “fat culture”, and that’s a great togetherness space. And I want gooey butter cake. My goal is to help my health, and maybe this “lifestyle change” does nothing for that.
I don’t do well with nothing to do. Yes, over these last few weeks of break (about three weeks of break) I’ve spent a lot of time just recovering from the semester, but I don’t do relaxation well. I think I’ve said this before; I get frustrated with sitting down and not accomplishing anything. With 1.5 days till the beginning of classes, I’ve had enough of relaxation.
You’d think I could have spent that time doing the projects I don’t have time for during the Spring and Fall Semester. (And, to be fair, I did some of those projects, particularly editing Gaia’s Hands, which went live on Amazon on January 1.) I could have done class prep (I did this, weeks ahead of time.) But I didn’t start a new novel or anything like that because, I admit, I needed the rest.
So over break, I got little work done, and I feel guilty for not taking time to do the work. So if someone asks me what I did over break, I’ll answer, “I didn’t do a lot of anything.” And I will feel guilty because I could have practically finished a novel by then. Or edited more work on ProWritingAid. Or something madly ambitious.
Perhaps I needed to do nothing so I could charge myself for the semester, which I think promises to be stressful: students tired of COVID restrictions in the face of even more illnesses under Omicron, the dreariness of winter and the lack of sunlight, all the minor irritations accumulating by midterms. I, as the professor, need to be the sane one (and as you might recall, I have bipolar disorder, so sanity has some challenges.) So, if it’s possible to soak up relaxation, I have been doing so. And I shouldn’t be ashamed of it.
But it’s time to get back into the work world. I can feel it.
Writing the book is the simple part. You come up with an idea when half-asleep or when distracted by something else, surreptitiously write the first draft while others do more normal activities, suffer from writer’s block, get an alpha reader who tells you what’s wrong, go through the developmental edit only to dissolve into despair, get some beta readers who tell you what’s wrong, despair over the book some more, edit until your mind is thoroughly sick of writing, and then publish. (I can only address self-publishing; traditionally published people have extra hoops to run through.)
First, I should explain how I feel about bragging about myself: I am a Baby Boomer — a young one, but a Baby Boomer. I am also female. These two points are relevant in explaining how I simply loathe self-promotion.
The status of females in the 60s and 70s was that society expected women to be internally perfect at educational pursuits but externally mediocre. To win first place in the spelling bee, but hope nobody noticed. (With traditionally male pursuits, society expected women to be obvious failures.)
Repeat after me, Boomer women: “Oh, it’s nothing.” “I’m really not that good.” “I was just lucky this time.”
So with promoting my book, I feel a literal crawling feeling, a resistance to putting the book out there as often as people suggest I should. The book isn’t good enough. People won’t find it interesting. I can’t make it look interesting. I don’t want to shove it down their throats. Sound familiar?
I’ve tried a few methods — promoting here, on Twitter, on Facebook pages. There are several methods I’m just scared of — Bookbub and Goodreads, for example. There are so many places I fear working with. Can someone walk me through this?
If I have anyone out there working through internal perfection/external mediocrity, please let me know!
Lately, I have written little. I’ve edited, edited, and edited (and frankly have at least two novels left to edit with ProWritingAid). But this means I now have writer’s block and haven’t done the very part of writing that gives me a high.
Instead, the writing part of my life has become a series of unlovely and even petty feelings. I’m ashamed of the thoughts and cycle through them helplessly. In exposing them to the light, I hope I can exorcise them.
The cycle goes like this:
Self-pity and jealousy aren’t a good look, so I don’t let them out. Except here, I’m letting them out by owning them. By admitting them, rather than indulging them.
I think I need to go back to what I love, so I remember what I love about writing. And what I love about writing (other than getting attention, which I’ve already noted is failing) is actually writing. I need to create and then I’ll have the energy to do what I need to do — the promoting, which pushes me into the comparisons to others and the jealousy.
I’m analytical about this whole thing, which tells me one thing: I’m trying to stifle these unlovely feelings by managing them. Feelings are not to be managed without paying attention to them and letting them out constructively.
The way I learned to do this was through cognitive journaling. Without going into too much detail, cognitive journaling lets you document a feeling and its power over you, then examine the cognitive distortions that fuel those feelings. Many of our bad feelings come from inaccurate thoughts.
So that is what I need to do about my unlovely feelings — let myself listen to them and then find the truth.
I’ve got some work to do.
My break time is ending. I have meetings tomorrow and Monday, and then next Thursday is my first day of class next Wednesday. I’ve readied myself for the Spring Semester over the break, finished proofing and publishing a novel (Gaia’s Hands), and fixed another book via ProWritingAid.
Do you know what else I did? A lot of absolutely nothing!
Here’s why I feel guilty every year:
I have to remind myself that I am the primary earner of the house, plus I write novels on the side as a hobby, and I am going to need some rest. Plenty of rest. I might as well save my energy for tomorrow and Monday and all the days full of COVID and student requests.
Time to rest now.
It’s been years since I’ve gone to Friends’ Meeting (what we often call Quaker Meeting), mostly because there is no meeting place here in town and the nearest meeting is 90 miles away. However, I remember a concept we had there, a way of thinking about the world and our actions. Actually, two concepts related to each other.
The first is waiting for the way to open. When one is choosing an action, one doesn’t give it up right away, assuming that it will fail. Instead, one waits for the way to open, waits for something to happen, with the guidance of other Friends which we call a clearness committee.
The other is laying something down. We also do this with the guidance of other Friends. The idea behind this is that sometimes it’s just time to let go of what we’re doing, again with a clearness committee.
The idea with the clearness committee isn’t that they speak from their own opinions. The committee centers themselves with the speaker with the belief they will speak from Spirit and give inspired guidance. Does this always work? I have a divorce that proves it doesn’t. But it’s good to feel supported by others.
I have a lot of things going on that are unsuccessful by most standards. I have unread books, a blog with 10 regular followers, not much luck with social media, and a feeling of aimlessness. Is it time to lay my writing career down or try new tricks with promoting?
My husband might get called into a committee soon. I’ll let you know.
I am going back to my garden preparation after a couple of years of sitting out. I’m also going to keep writing if inspiration hits me (which I hope it does soon) and promoting my books on social media. And of course, work my day job (professoring). I’m going to over-commit myself, apparently.
I’m buying seeds, which is followed by cleaning my grow room and organizing planting times. Today I’ll organize planting times; later, I’ll make my husband clean the grow room. (I know that using the phrase “grow room” makes it sound like I’m growing an illegal crop, but I assure you I’m growing strictly legal eggplant.)
My strategy here is that, if I remove my focus from writing, I will find the inspiration to write something new. This has happened to me in the past, usually when I’m at my busiest time at work. It’s uncanny how often it works.
And maybe if I put my focus on writing, Richard and I will weed the garden more. I know I’m being overly optimistic. We’ll see.
Words Like Me 