Hopeful Thinking

I have discussed writing as a flow activity often enough that I’ve made the case that writing for the sake of writing is a worthy pursuit. Even so, I like to get recognition for my writing. I want to know that I am an interesting writer and have some skill.

Right now, in society, wanting external validation is a weakness. We call it “attention-seeking”^* and that’s considered bad. However, external validation shapes our self-esteem, according to sociometer theory. When we don’t get it, we shape our behavior in order to get it.

In some ways, I get the validation I need. My friends know to ask me how the writing is going. That’s appropriate and my sociometer registers positive.

What I wish I had, though, is the readers. This is something most indie authors struggle with. There are so many writers out there, and so many books, and some people use traditional publishing as their judge how worthy a book is to read. What traditional publishing signals, in reality, is how well the idea sells. There are good writers in independent publishing. But they’re hard to find, and there’s a catch-22 that dogs indie writers: People read books that are read by others.

How to get readers? I wish I knew. I advertise mine on Facebook and Threads and Instagram. But the ads are not tempting readers to read, and I don’t know what to do about that. It’s hard sometimes, but I persist in hopeful thinking that I will get a following someday.

^*Not all attention-seeking is good, and I can explain this in terms of sociometer theory. The bad form of attention-seeking is that which violates one of the social norms of a group, and that is attention-hogging. We don’t approve of one person getting all the attention, but are often too polite to signal that directly. Wanting positive attention in and of itself is not bad, however; it’s something we’re programmed to do.

Talking About the Weather

I know that talking about the weather is the smallest of small talk, the type of inoffensive speech that makes it safe to talk to total strangers. I hate small talk, preferring to talk about people’s passions, as I am passionate about mine. But look at the freaking heat index!

We’re under a heat advisory here in Northwest Missouri. The heat index (a measure of how heat and humidity get together to cause misery) is 108 degrees Fahrenheit. The temperature without the heat index will be 98 degrees F. People die of heat stroke at these temperatures. I won’t be going out today because I take medications that make me prone to the consequences of high temperatures. (Of course, human nature being what it is, I desperately want to go to Starbucks to write.)

I think about climate change a lot when the weather gets like this. It’s not just my imagination; scientists note an increase in weather incidents like this. On average, our world is getting hotter. I think about this from the viewpoint of someone sixty years old: I remember when we didn’t worry about this. I don’t want to worry, but I am worried. How will this affect the world’s people?

As a Midwesterner (United States), I’ll be far away from the flooding and some of the extremes as they come. But how will people in poverty fare? People without air conditioning? There are ways of living, but do we still know them? Do we remember how to do them? What will we have to give up of our 21st Century values to enact them?

Photo by Fabio Partenheimer on Pexels.com

I wonder how life will change. I wonder if I cannot change my life enough to make any difference in the slide into turbulent weather. Thinking this as I sit in my writing spot is a lonely moment, because it’s sobering to think about a future I can’t control. To think it all goes downhill from here.

I could be wrong. We are always on the brink of great innovation. Change is always possible. Maybe someday, riches will be measured in how we relate to others. I do not feel optimistic at this moment in 98 degrees F.

A Good Day and a Shameless Plug

I finally got 1200 words on the work-in-progress written today at home. It doesn’t hurt that l got a venti flat white Door Dashed in the morning. I also listened to good writing music. The most important thing is that I had an idea of what needed to happen in the story.

I should point out that I am self-published and relatively unknown. The big thing for me is the writing; although I really want people to read my writing, I have not mastered marketing the books.

If you want to read some, there’s the fluffy Christmas romances and the more serious fantasy stories. And all of them can be found Right Here.

About Hope

I hope that my writing will go somewhere. It’s difficult because the world of books has seen a renaissance of writers with a waning number of readers. The number of writers has exploded because of Amazon KDP and self-publishing. There are good books out there and bad ones, and readers are loath to sort through them all.

As a writer, I could let this discourage me, and sometimes I do. This doesn’t mean I quit promoting my work. I promote and hope I get better at it. I hope my promotions pay off. I hope people read my books.

I won’t tie hope to a specific outcome, however. I hope things go well, not defining what that means. There’s so many ways that positive things happen, some of which I can’t even imagine right now. So no “I hope people read the promotional posts I put on Loomly” but “I hope positive things happen from posting.” Maybe it’s superstitious, but I enjoy keeping my options open.

Emily Dickinson once compared hope to a bird that perches inside us and sings. I find hope to be something more like a rough, homely rock which I need to keep polishing so that I can find the gem underneath. Sometimes it seems the work to reveal it will never end, but I must believe and polish the rock.

The Recitation

Let this be

A good day
A productive day
A rewarding day
A beautiful day
A day that gives me hope.

Lately I have been using this to start my day. I don’t think it’s a prayer per se, because I have very mixed thoughts about God answering prayers, as much “Should God answer prayers” as “Does God answer prayers?” I see this more to focus myself, to choose the actions that will best advance the day the way I want to.

Left to myself, I have good days and bad days. I have productive days and days where I do little but surf, largely influenced by what is due that day and how I feel. This works great when I feel possessed by an idea, in creative mode, perhaps even in a micro-mania, or if I’m down and have the time to relax. Right now I have classes and emails and panicked students and struggles with the writing.

With the — meditation? Litany? Shopping list? My days haven’t changed so far. On Wednesday, I had a good, productive, rewarding day at work with students right on target, work getting done at a good clip, an affirming conversation with a student. On Friday, my students couldn’t focus on class, and I felt argumentative.

Today, Saturday, I started the recitation again: “let this be a good day, a productive day, a rewarding day, a beautiful day, a day that gives me hope.” The blog has been the first productive act, and I will put up a tik-tok and start editing a problem child of a manuscript by noon today. Hopefully, it will be a day that gives me hope.

Hope and the Writer

Sometimes I feel like Sisyphus

Getting (traditionally) published seems like an endless bout of submit, rejection, revise, repeat. Like Sisyphus with that rock he kept pushing up that hill. I admit that, when I get a rejection, I feel like that boulder has rumbled over me. But then, after a few minutes mourning, I appreciate the opportunity to try again.

Then hope sets in

I can’t stay sad for too long when there are revisions that can be made (to my document or to my query materials), submissions to make, and new possibilities that I have to check out. What pushes me forward is hope — hope that I have a better product, that someone sees promise in it, and that I will finally get the chance to show my stories to other people.

Hope carries me

Hope carries me past the rejections, past the self-flagellation, past the desire to give up. With hope, each round of submissions is new as I try something else. Perhaps I will give up and self-publish, but self-publishing doesn’t push me toward excellence as much as trying to get traditionally published does. Hope is a heady sensation, like the sunlight on a June day, whispering “Maybe this time … “

Learning optimism

Speaking of anticipating good things happening , I’ve noticed that pessimists often call themselves “realists”, yet I haven’t heard optimists say the same thing. It’s almost as if, again, we expect bad things to happen and not good.

I’m trying to focus on good things happening — the good deeds of humans, the unexpected good thing, achievements and accomplishments, and so on. The things that spark gratitude and, thus, happiness.

Being an optimist is not the same as descending into toxic positivity. I don’t chirp “Look on the bright side!” to people who are going through tough times; I listen to them. I don’t ignore my own feelings of hurt. I don’t choose to ignore the bad things in the world.

I hope. That is the core of optimism — hoping for good things in the future.

It’s hard sometimes. I worry that I am enjoying my white privilege. I deal with a pessimistic inner voice that tells me I’m just going to get hurt. I wonder if I’m fooling myself.

However, I think I’m doing the right thing. Pessimism makes us ill and makes us unhappy with life. I hope to stick with optimism because it seems healthier.

Another pitch opportunity

I found out about #SFFpit on Twitter with two days to spare. #SFFpit is a pitching opportunity on Twitter for people who write science fiction and fantasy (hence SFF). “Pitching” refers to distilling one’s novel into three lines or less — shorter for an “elevator pitch”, longer for a pitch on Twitter.

This is the wonderful thing about Twitter — first, that I can get my work exposed to many agents on the Internet without being in the same room; second, that I can find out about it without having to remember to go to the website to check when a pitch exercise is happening. (Note: always go to the pitch contest’s website to find out their latest rules for pitching.)

I set up my pitches using a web app called TweetDeck, which is free and allows you to put in a series of pitches to be timed for posting throughout the day. So when I set up pitches, I put them into TweetDeck so I don’t have to go back and remember to post them.

So this is another opportunity to hope. I take all the opportunities to hope that I can, and someday I may have an agent!

A Return to Hope (Inaugural edition)

So today’s the inauguration of President-elect Biden and Vice-President-elect Kamala Harris. It has been a harrowing four years under the Trump administration, filled as it was with right-wing jingoism, bows to white supremacism, and actions which targeted vulnerable populations, delicate natural landscapes, and at times, the very soul of a democratic nation.

I had thought Trump’s reign would be over sooner. Each new outburst made by Trump on Twitter made me wonder if the vice president would invoke the 25th. Each allegation — collusion with the Russians in the 2016 election (disproven), quid-pro-quo maneuvering with Ukraine (probable) petered out in the legislature. Shaming us on the world stage — there is no mechanism to get rid on him in that case, but I at least expected that people would turn away from him.

They didn’t, and I feel this is an indictment of the American people.

I don’t know if they were attracted to Trump’s lies or his xenophobic cruelty; I don’t know if they identified with his wrapping himself in the American flag or they felt his bumbling, ranting speeches were “like them”. But they didn’t shrink away from his threats, his tacit acceptance of white supremacists or his bullying. In the recent election, almost half the US supported him. This lingers as a source of fear and dismay.

But now Biden will be installed as 46th President of the United States. There is hope, although Biden has a lot to undo and a somewhat limited time to do it in. Some things, like the rise of white supremacy in the US, may take years to undo. Other things, like battling COVID, may be difficult. I pray that we can heal from the Trump agenda and all its hatred.

With people, there’s always hope

I just got to the Board Game Cafe, and already I’ve advised an incoming freshman and their mom about some of the features of Maryville. Life is starting to feel back to normal with just that little thing.

We’re practicing social distancing here, and mask wearing (there’s an ordinance in Maryville).

There are two girls (probably high schoolers) playing a complex game at one table, and occasional people looking for coffee.

As for me, I’m writing this blog, and afterward, I’m going to transcribe some of my pen and paper notes and see if I’ve gotten any further with Gaia’s Hands.

Maybe there is hope, even though I feel like I have to scream through my mask to be heard, and I don’t know if I’ll get sick, and I don’t know if this pandemic will ever end. But there are still people, and with people there’s always hope.