Livin' On A Prayer

I'm not quite halfway there, and other October musings.

Dear Reader,

I’ll be honest, I’ve felt a disturbance in the force these past couple of weeks, seeing the death toll and aftermath of Hurricane Helene. And now with Milton bearing down, I have multiple friends currently evacuating their homes in Florida.

My heart is heavy, as I’m sure yours is. I am saying prayers for all those affected.

With that, I’ve been trying to wrestle this post into something readable for two weeks now and I think it’s time to just send it as is and move along to the next thing. 

There are lots of “next things”.

And! I almost forgot: To celebrate its five-year publishing anniversary, I still have my first book Adventures of a Metalhead Librarian on sale right now on Amazon.

The paperback can be all yours, freshly printed, for $9.99. 

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As a part of my ongoing effort to adhere to a daily writing routine, I’ve also started declaring Wednesdays all for myself.  Writing Wednesdays. With our family schedules, it’s the best day. 

I don’t make appointments or plan any errands.  No grocery store trips, no fussing over dinner.  I abandon myself to the writing work and leave the family to fend for themselves in a fully stocked house.  

It’s been going fairly well so far. We’ve found a routine with the school schedule, but when the kids are on a break, like this past week, I adapt. 

I still get up early and do my morning routine, and as I was settling in this past Wednesday to work at my desk, I stumbled across a one-hour video I wanted to indulge in - a conversation between author Elizabeth Gilbert and writer/entrepreneur Marie Forleo. 

Liz's Big Magic is one of the best creativity books out there, and I thought, ooo, I can’t wait to dive in. I knew it was just the medicine I needed - a creative pep talk from Sister Liz. 

I got about five minutes into the video, then, the distractions set in.

The dog, the cat. Hunger. Husband. Lunch. Texts come in. Amazon delivery. Kids come out of their rooms, bang around the kitchen, and one of them starts watching a movie. 

The normal stuff. People gotta live. I’m just sitting in the middle of it all, trying to keep a loving attitude, knowing - it won’t always be like this. 

And so, the one hour video took me almost five hours to watch. It was almost comical given the topic of the video.

The thing that struck me most was the advice she gave to women, especially to women who have children (she herself is child-free by choice):

People will take and take and take from you until you have nothing left to give because you've been trained, as a woman, to serve, to give, to be available all the time, and to sacrifice on behalf of your career and family. 

Your alone time, your creative time, is of no value to anyone else BUT YOU. 

I burst out in a quick fit of tears. Oh the truth of it! I thought to myself. I felt so SEEN.

Liz Gilbert’s advice: If you’re a writer, you must be GREEDY for your time. 

Oy. 

Greedy?  Not a term that goes hand in hand with family life, you know?

First thing that pops in my mind: Gordon Gekko: Greed is Good. 

Do I have to be ruthless? 

Well, shoot. 

Maybe the Mom guilt and constant accommodation is yet another convenient block. Resistance, in Mommy form.

My kids are young adults. Almost 15, and 17. They’ve been watching me work on my writing for ten years now. They are good kids, grateful, good students, affectionate, polite, funny. They are competent in basic life skills. 

They know I need time and space to think and write, even if I do have to remind them sometimes.

I’m never going to stop worrying about or thinking of them.  Even when they fly my little suburban cottage nest, they know they will always have a safe place in my home. 

But Mama’s gotta write, little birdies. Mama’s gotta write. 

Wednesdays are MINE. 

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I've had some really great, inspiring conversations these past couple of months, and it reminds me of how much I NEED to talk and engage with other writers.

It’s weird to say it, but as a person I rarely get lonely. I putter, I tinker, I cook, I read, I paint. I was an only child. I’m built for alone.

As a writer - real loneliness is almost a daily thing. 

I’m on a deserted island, and I don’t have a Wilson to talk to.  I think a lot of writers are this way, and it really does feel good to connect with other creatives.

 In early August, during a quick trip to Las Vegas for my friend Lonn’s birthday party, I was surprised at how many people wanted to talk about the books they were writing, or wanted to write. It was so refreshing to be surrounded by that kind of creative energy and enthusiasm. 

These were my people - eclectic, interesting, real, fun.  Rock n’ Roll types. Vegas types. What I loved most was how downright vulnerable and open they got with me, right away, about their writing projects. 

Of course, I went into coaching mode immediately. Or maybe it’s Librarian mode?  I answered questions about publishing, how to actually “start” a memoir (this can stump people), legal implications of sharing personal stories (especially about famous people), and the hardships and joys of drafting and editing. I asked questions about their plans, I encouraged, I advised. 

About a week after I got home, I had a great conversation with Jasraj Hothi, a writer and creative based out of the UK. It had been a year since we’d last touched base.

In the past, he’d had me on his podcast, and included me in author interviews for his previous book. Since we last connected, he’d traveled, taken a sabbatical from his work to regroup, had a few epiphanies, including his new book, which I’m reading right now. He’s a gentle soul with a sharp marketing mind, and I adore our chats. 

Jas introduced me to his friend, Shelly Francis, of Creative Courage Press, and I’m so glad that we connected. Shelly and I have a lot in common, and I’m so impressed by all that she’s done both as a writer and running an independent, hybrid publishing company - it gave me so many ideas for the direction I could take Bibliozona Books in the future. 

Shelly created a really helpful set of oracle cards called Supposing Oracle Cards: Reflections for Accessing Your Wise Inner Artist. I love the many ways you can use them in your daily journaling or creative practice.  

Both conversations were so refreshing, and it also helped put things in perspective.

For the first two years of my retirement, I focused on creating an income stream with teaching and coaching, but for this past year I’ve let it all kind of fall away.  No classes, no outlines, no marketing myself as a coach.  I blew up my website, ignored my mailing lists and let my free giveaway go stale.

It’s been a relief, actually. I was able to just focus on the needs of the family, and growing Bibliozona Books with the publication of Garage Sale Vinyl, as well as working on my own stuff. I still take clients - just by referral. So much easier this way.

And the perspective I gained from my writing friends is that - every writer who also coaches (or offers services and help to other writers) often sacrifices their own creative projects and desires in order to keep their author-business thriving. 

I know I did it. I know others have been stumped on how to balance everything. But I’ve gotten to the point where I’m not going to worry too much. I’ll get back to it at some point. No timeline.

I just don’t have the capacity to do all the busywork behind the scenes - writing copy, marketing, website, graphics, etc. That energy needs to go towards my books, my screenplays, and…me. My needs. My wellness. ME.

Greed is Good.

I do love “coaching” and consulting and memoir and being a resource for writers, but not at my own expense. Any help I give is hollow if I am not willing to help myself first. Right?

I’ll admit something, though - even with my past experience with a super-awesome and wonderfully chill writing coach, Lauren Sapala, who helped me so much with my first book - when I hear the term “COACH” the ONLY image that pops in my mind is former Pittsburgh Steelers Coach, Bill Cowher.

“The Jaw.’ 

I think the reason he was such a great coach was that he had three daughters, who undoubtedly kept him in check at home.

On the field - hoo-boy, look out. You might get hit with neck veins, hilarious fits of rage, and spittle. Watching him on the sidelines was as much fun as watching Troy Polamalu and Jerome Bettis make great plays. 

But, you know, this is writing and that is football, and although I feel football can be incredibly creative, it is not writing, and writing definitely doesn’t need to be shouted at. 

Writing, I think, does better with coercion and bribery, like with chocolate, or new pens.  

And if writing did need shouting at, I wouldn’t be the one doing it. I’d be eating the chocolate. And buying the pens.  

But then again, if Coach Cowher were yelling at me from the sidelines, I probably would have had my book done a year ago. 

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Thank you for reading.

Please feel free to share or reply - I love hearing from you. Also, you can follow me in the Substack App and read and interact there.

Meanwhile, I’ll be in here in Arizona, waiting on the temperature to dip below 100 Degrees. Happy October!