Impasse

Today is the local author’s fair at the public library, and I am suffering from a severe case of impostor’s syndrome. This is new; normally I enjoy the author’s fair, given that it’s the only time I go out in the public and talk about my books. But this year I feel reluctant to do so.

It’s something I have been fighting for a little while, though. I’ve been wrestling with writing something new, I have been unmotivated, I’ve just been feeling blah about my endeavors.

It’s even more complicated than that, of course. I’m afraid of sinking (further?) into obscurity, and I’m equally afraid of my writing career picking up. I don’t want it to stay the same, either. I’m at an impasse where there’s a boulder on the road in front of me and a washout behind me.

Given all this, I would prefer my career to go forward, because that difficulty would come with a side of satisfaction, which is not as present in the other options. I’m all for climbing over the boulder somehow if I can manage it. There’s much I can’t manage in terms of promotion and the like; I am doing all I can within my time and money means. But I have a presence on Facebook, Threads, Blue Sky, and in this blog, and I send a newsletter to 2800 people. To torture my boulder metaphor further, what I need is a bolt of lightning to pulverize that rock so I can climb over it.

I guess what I want is for the effort to be worth it, because I’ve written 9 novels (plus one that didn’t survive) and I feel foolish writing another. If you have a moment for good wishes, wish for me to find a way over the boulder.

Wish List

I’ve been writing too much about kittens. And COVID. And quarantine. That’s probably been because that’s been my life, in a summer bereft of traveling, going out for coffee, and …

Today, I’m putting my wish list out here for the universe to peruse:

A spa day at The Elms where I can spend all day in the Grotto running between the steam room, the sauna, and cold showers. Lounge on one of their beach chairs with a cool, minty fresh washcloth.
Getting motivated with my writing.
Getting my nails done. I have managed to grow them out and not bite them, and I want fancy color.
A trip to Champaign-Urbana to visit my friends. I know they’re COVID-negative but I don’t know if I will be after the 19th.
At least one of my novels (there’s currently three full ones plus the one or two I have to seriously edit) getting published by traditional press.
Initiative to get back on a diet
Getting one of my short pieces (poetry, fiction, flash fiction) published by a journal
Getting my Surface Book replaced (this will happen soon)

I think that’s enough for now.

Wishes are the first step

I’ve been thinking about wishes, largely because I tend to look down on them as impractical. The truth of the matter is, the impetus for goals comes from wishes.

What are wishes?
This is easy. Wishes are thoughts about what we want to happen. They are the expression of fantasy. Fantasy is a video clip of our desires, wishes are the sound bite.

Fantasy, as well as the resulting wishes, come from our values, which in turn come from our emotional and cognitive responses to formative experiences, some of which are transmitted to us by our childhood interactions with caretakers.

I grew up in a creative family — my mother took photographs and designed multimedia projects and my dad did woodworking. Thus I learned that creativity was valued in my family, I learned from my teachers that I had a skill for writing. These developed my value that getting recognition for creativity was important.

I fantasize about getting a book contract. It’s a movie in my head. From it I extrapolate the wish to get published.

Wishes are translated into goals
We have limited resources and abundant wishes, so we have to prioritize which ones we act upon. When we decide to process a wish into steps we can act upon, it becomes a goal. So my raw goal is to get published.

Goals are then clarified
We can’t act upon goals until we’ve clarified two things:

what resources (time, money, etc.) we can allocate to fulfill the goal
actions to take to fulfill the goal

To make strong goals, we need to answer the queries “who, what, where, when, why, how many, how much”. So I come up with “I will have my first book traditionally within the next five years.”

Goals that go through the SMART philosophy (specific, measurable, achievable, relevant, time-bound) become even stronger. When I do this to my goal, it falls apart somewhat when examined:

Specific: Yes, I covered the query questions above
Measurable: “book traditionally published” is measurable
Relevant: I think so
Time-bound: Yes
Achievable: here’s the big problem. This goal has nothing to do with what I can do, but a result that’s out of my control. I need to rewrite this goal into one or more goals that will be things I can take action on, which I have articulated here.

The goal becomes the plan
Because I have done the prior steps, I can act upon those specific goals. The goals inform the plan, which is the series of actions that it will take to fulfill the plan.

Then it’s time to act.
You have a trajectory, a time limit, and the steps toward winning. Now it’s up to you.

Without goals, our wishes flounder. But without wishes, we have nothing to make goals from.

Dear Santa:

I dream of getting published by a major publishing house. Think of it as my visions of sugarplums for the season. I have no idea if my wish is overly ambitious, or if you can grant it.

I don’t know if you answer adults’ wishes. I suppose if you did, you’d have to have McMansions and Maseratis in that big bottomless sack of yours. And I don’t know if you answer everyone’s wishes, because there are children starving and children separated from their families, and you haven’t granted their wishes. To be honest, if you have to choose between me and those children, I’d prefer you give them comfort and peace and all good things.

But I still wish, because I’m superstitious. I hope that it’s possible for you to hook into that ephemeral luck and catch its attention for a fleeting second so my manuscript gets a second look.

So if you’re listening, Santa …

I am not inspired

So, I’m done editing Whose Hearts are Mountains, and I’m still at Mozingo on my writing retreat. But I don’t feel like writing. What am I to do?

Here’s my problem — I don’t have any inspiration for a new book. I haven’t since I finished Whose Hearts are Mountains (writing, not editing). This is part of the reason I’ve been editing the back catalog for eventual developmental edits.

I have an outline for another novel, but my brain feels like a brick right now. I wrote a sentence, a first sentence, and it dropped like lead, inert and boring. I don’t feel that energy of attraction to anything I’ve writing.

I think a good amount of this is how hard I’ve been trying to get an agent and how utterly fruitless my efforts have been. I’m discouraged, and it’s hard getting motivated to write when there’s a backlog of unread novels.

Wish me inspiration. Wish me luck. Wish me good spirits. Wish me love.

This paragraph may be the one that pushed me to write novels

And if you, the esteemed reader, should read to the story’s end, the spell contained within this book shall bestow upon you the powers of the heroine, and grant you your wish. For indeed the moment the page is turned, the story will become reality.”

—The Universe of the Four Gods, Manga Chapter 1

The above came from a manga/anime called “Fushigi Yuugi” or, in approximate English, “The Mysterious Game (or Play)”.* This classic anime series served up more than just the inevitable love triangle — with ancient prophecies, love beyond death, and shadow archetypes, it certainly hooked me in.

Watching it now, FY hasn’t aged as well as I’ve liked, or perhaps it’s that I’m no longer a high school girl **. The female protagonist Miaka keeps making stupid mistakes, her male protector Tamahome gets sappy, and everyone falls in love with her despite her clumsiness***.

But that line of the legendary book that starts the adventure of Fushigi Yuugi! Don’t we all wish our writing will bestow powers upon all our readers, captivate them, become their reality while they’re reading, grant them the wish of going beyond what they feel are the confines of their lives?

*Note: I do not speak Japanese (or any language other than English).
** I’m 52. No duh.
*** Twilight did NOT use this idea first.