I didn’t want to go.

  • “I didn’t want to go but I’m glad I did.”

    Bella Mahaya Carter’s title for her early December email caught my attention, probably because so many times I didn’t want to go but I was glad I went.

    Here’s what Bella wrote:

    Dear Friends,

    I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving and are enjoying the holiday season! 

    Today’s post is about showing up for ourselves and for each other.
     

    This past Monday night, I did not want to attend Forest Lawn’s annual “Lights of Remembrance: An Evening of Honoring the Memories of Your Loved Ones.” I was tired (hadn’t slept well the night before) and felt like I was getting sick. I also didn’t want to drive twenty miles at night to a place I’d never been, or go alone (my husband was too tired and my friend declined). I wanted to stay home, lounge by the fireplace, and watch The Crown. 
     
    I also did not want to kick off my holiday season with sadness. I did not want to do the grief dance. (My mom died seven years ago, in December.) I did not want to be reminded about the ways I’d failed her.
     
    But Melissa Gould was the guest speaker. I had to go. Melissa is a former student of mine, whose memoir Widow. . . ish, is being published by Little A books next year. Witnessing her journey has been remarkable.
     

    When she first showed up in my class, Melissa had recently lost her husband and was grieving. An award-winning screenwriter, Melissa’s inclination was to write fiction, but she needed to tell her own story. She didn’t yet understand the value her personal narrative held, nor the healing that would come as a result of sharing it. But she showed up in a big way (even when it was scary). 

    She began her process by writing simple exercises from class prompts, which over time became seeds from which essays sprung about her life as a young widow. Her essays have since been published in The New York Times, the Los Angeles Times, The Washington Post, The Huffington Post, The Girlfriend by AARP, Buzzfeed, and elsewhere. 
     
    In addition to all the other reasons I didn’t want to go, I told myself it would be better if I got dressed up. I thought the event was happening at a sanctuary, which made it feel like an occasion, but the last thing I felt like doing was putting on heels or makeup. 
     
    But then I realized that all had to do was show up. I set aside the need to “dress” and instead put on comfy leggings, boots, a sweater, hat, and scarf. No make-up. 
     
    When I arrived, I discovered the event was being held outdoors, and saw other people dressed casually.  


    A choir sang, Melissa read her poignant work, poems were shared, and then Melissa led a “silent reflection,” a guided meditation in which she invited the audience to close our eyes and imagine ourselves in a room with a deceased loved one. 
     
    I was with my mom in New York, in our old living room.
     
    “Can you forgive me?” I asked.
     
    “For what?” she said.
     
    “For not being more present in your life, especially as you aged.”
     
    “There is nothing to forgive,” she said.
     
    I felt the truth of that statement.
     
    Then I heard, “You were there for me in countless ways, large and small. You were a wonderful daughter.”
     
    I realized that we all do the best we can, given our consciousness and circumstances—and that this applies to me as well as anybody else. It also occurred to me that I’d been weaving (and believing) a “not-good-enough” story in my role as her daughter, and was finally able to release it.
     
    Tuesday morning I put the candle from Monday night’s ceremony on my altar, placed an empty chair beside it, and invited my mother to join my meditation. During the journal writing that followed, I wrote her a long letter. And she “wrote” back. I heard her voice and wrote what she said. 
     
    Since then I have felt her presence strongly, but instead of feeling familiar sadness, regret, and shame, I am filled with love and joy! What a sweet way to kick off the holiday season! 
     
    I keep thinking how I didn’t want to go to the event and the one thing that dragged me out of the house was that I wanted to show up for Melissa. She had demonstrated incredible tenacity, courage, persistence, and faith. This is worth celebrating.
     
    I was also grateful to receive an email from her saying that she was moved to see me there and that my presence had been a gift. She told me how writing continues to heal her and is yet another gift.
     
    What strikes me is that gift-giving is fluid and creative, and we sometimes don’t even realize what we’re giving—when or to whom. But also, we never know when we’ll receive a gift.

    I showed up for Melissa, and she showed up for me—and for everyone gathered to honor memories of loved ones. The gift I received from her was both unexpected and priceless.
     

    This is what’s possible when we show up for ourselves and for each other. 
     
    Stories nourish, heal, and uplift us all. Monday night reminded me that we rarely know the power of our own stories—until we share them!

    If you have a story you’d like to share, or if you’d like to explore what’s possible for you through writing, check out Bella’s upcoming writing circles. Start the new year (and decade!) with the gift of creative expression and healing. 
     
    Blessings and gratitude, Bella

    Bella Mahaya Carter is an author, creative writing teacher, and empowerment coach, who helps writers (and others) experience greater freedom, joy, and peace of mind. Her winter writing circles (online and on-site) begin January 29, and are filling up fast! Grab your seat while there are still openings. Bella is be happy to speak with you to answer any questions you may have. 


    Bella believes in the power of writing to heal and transform lives.

    Note from Marlene: I also believe you can use your writing to heal.

  • As I write this, it’s early Christmas morning, 2019. It will be a quiet day here at Chateau Cullen, except for the swishing of a broom while I sweep the porch and the hum of the washer and dryer, getting ready for our holiday party this weekend and for my granddaughter’s third birthday.

    Today will be a busy day for some, filled with happy feet and sparkling eyes as young and old open presents under a decorated tree. For others, it will be quieter.

    Today’s guest blogger, Bella Mahaya Carter shares her holiday thoughts.

    Dear Friends:

    I hope you’re enjoying the holiday season—or getting through it with as much grace and ease as possible. One thing that helps keep me calm is walking our dog, Katie, who insists upon frequent and leisurely outings. I don’t mind (usually), because they provide exercise, time outdoors, and inspiration.

    Check out this leaf she’s circling:

    This reminds me of a stanza in Mary Oliver’s poem, “Sometimes”:

    Instructions for living a life:
    Pay attention.
    Be astonished.
    Tell about it.

    I feel like I don’t do these things often enough. But it’s what I love most about my creative life. 

    Now that the holiday season is in full swing, a snarky inner voice says, “Yeah, right. Get real. You don’t have time for this.” 

    But I’m learning to ignore this voice, which I know is stale, conditioned thought, and instead listen to my wisdom. My wisdom reminds me that my sense of joy and well-being goes up exponentially when I follow Oliver’s instructions, and also, my busyness is up to me.

    I’m at a place in my life where much of what I do is by choice, and not a requirement. Even when I was younger, a lot of what I thought I had to do came from within. It seemed like I had to achieve certain things, or behave (or appear) a certain way, but I realize now that I was taking orders from an inner voice that wasn’t particularly kind, expansive, or helpful. It sounded more like a drill sergeant than a wise guide. Mary Oliver is a nourishing companion. Her “instructions” are both simple and complex. Let’s take a closer look.

    Pay attention.

    We are designed to pay attention. But we forget and become distracted. If you’re like me, you might spend too much time judging, expecting, evaluating, proclaiming, analyzing, defending, and protecting, which is the opposite of paying attention. However, the instant we remember to pay attention, everything changes. A world of possibility opens to us and we are free to observe (and relate to) what’s here in new ways.

    Be astonished.

    Life is astonishing—especially when you’re able to see the beauty around you (particularly during busy or turbulent times). Allowing yourself to be astonished might mean shifting from a fearful perspective to a loving one. And we cannot be astonished if we’re not paying attention, which happens when we’re hijacked by our thinking. We also cannot experience astonishment when we think we know what to expect. In this context uncertainty is a gift–if we can embrace, rather than fear it.

    Tell about it.

    Even after thirty-plus year’s writing I still have inner voices that heckle, taunt, and say things like: Don’t write that. Don’t share it. It’s no good. You’ve said this all before. Who cares? Who do you think you are?

    Many writers worry about speaking their truth. They don’t want to make waves, or they’re afraid of hurting someone they love, or they believe old, limiting, fearful beliefs that stifle or even paralyze them. Many don’t realize that their vulnerability is their strength and also their gateway to creative freedom. When you relinquish your illusion of control you invite something large and luminous to come through you. Your job is to get out of your own way and share it.

    I have my own instructions for living a life. They were given to me over time, in small doses, during meditations, when I needed help in my life. I had to get out of my own way and become quiet to hear them.

    Bella’s Instructions for living a life
    (especially during the holidays):

    Slow down.
    Stop fighting.
    Let go.
    Trust life.

    I will unpack these “instructions” in a future post.

    Meanwhile, I began this one saying that I feel like I don’t pay attention, allow myself to be astonished, or tell about it often enough. I’m realizing that the key is to make room for these opportunities, to give ourselves these gifts daily, if only for a few moments.

    If you’re ready to explore what’s possible in terms of “pay[ing] attention, be[ing] astonished, and “tell[ing] about it,” check out my upcoming writing circles (online and on-site), which are almost full. I have two openings in my online class and three in my on-site class. Happy to answer any questions you may have. Start the new year (and decade!) savoring your life, speaking your truth, and sharing your wisdom! 

    I also have two private coaching openings if you’d like to work with me one-on-one. Contact me if you’re interested.

    My memoir, Raw, is for sale through my website.

    Here are two bonus photos from this morning’s walk.

    A neighbor left these treats out for UPS, Amazon, FedEx, and USPS employees to thank them for their fine work delivering packages. It inspired me to ask, How can I be more thoughtful and generous this holiday season?

    This made me smile. I love these trees, and have used their berries to make wreaths and floral arrangements throughout the 20+ years we’ve lived in Studio City.

    I appreciate having neighbors who bring beauty and joy to our neighborhood—and I appreciate you for being part of my journey!

    Happy Holidays. I’ll see you in the new year!

    Blessings and gratitude,
    Bella Mahaya Carter

  • The definition of marketing is connecting with people in a human way and doing it as authentically as possible.

    Writing can heal and transform lives.

    Guest blogger Bella Mahaya Carter shares her epiphany about newsletters and marketing.

    Sometimes I want to lay down my ambition, hit cruise control, and glide through life.  But as an author (and human being) there’s so much I don’t know and want to learn. Case in point: I had a wonderful experience publishing my memoir with She Writes Press. I’ve come close to selling out my 1000-book print run—except for a few boxes left in my garage, which remind me of this important fact: books don’t sell themselves. 
     
    The realization that I (along with most authors today) need to take responsibility for the business part of my writing life has been sobering—but also, surprisingly fun. I’ve been reading marketing books the way I used to read craft books as a young writer—inhaling them with wonder and awe. But these days, more than ever, authors are expected to sell their books, no matter how they publish. Knowing as much as we can about publishing and book promotion is essential for success, not to mention peace of mind.
     
    Dan Blank, author of Be the Gateway, has been on my radar for years. His book sat on my shelf unread. When I finally picked it up a few weeks ago, I couldn’t put it down. Just as I was beginning to become curious about blogging and newsletters and wanting to understand these tools better, Dan offered a four-week workshop on this subject, so I signed up.
     
    I didn’t expect what came next. 
     
    Dan had me evaluate my priorities, craft a mission statement, and get clear about what I was doing and why.
     
    And then he challenged—disrupted—my ideas about author marketing. 
     
    Disruption is your friend.
     
    I don’t know about you, but when someone tells me something that contradicts what I believe to be true, my default position is to become defensive. This makes learning difficult. But the reason we hire coaches and teachers is to learn from them. It made sense to set my ego aside and listen to, and at least try, Dan’s suggestions. 
     
    This instruction challenged me most:
     
    Dispense with your fancy designed newsletter and send out a plain text email. Reach out to the people on your email list as a person, not a brand. 

    Publishing and book promotion are opportunities to deepen self-awareness, nourish meaningful connections, and delight in peak experiences while being of service.

    I thought about how I paid my web designer to create a spiffy Mail Chimp template that reflected my brand, complete with banner, logo, and author photo. Dan said that I didn’t need these advertising bells and whistles. 
     
    But the thought of showing up without them—just me (as if I’m not enough without my “brand”)—made me nervous. I didn’t feel completely naked, but I definitely felt vulnerable—and scared.
     
    That’s when I realized it was easy to hide behind the window-dressing of my newsletter/brand.
     
    I asked myself: What do I like to see in my inbox? I had to stop and think about this. I knew what I didn’t like: anonymous advertising and people overwhelming me with information, offers, and promotions. By contrast, I realized that I looked forward to Dan’s emails, as well as others who regularly offer valuable insights (and free) advice and suggestions that enrich my life and work. People writing from their hearts about what they’re seeing and learning, and sharing their hard-earned discoveries with me. I savor this type of human connection. And then this became clear: 
     
    The definition of marketing is connecting with people in a human way and doing it as authentically as possible. 
     
    Many authors don’t realize that marketing can be as innovative and raw a process as writing. The difference is that instead of communicating just with yourself (and your higher power), you’re communicating with others. Sixteen (instead of the usual five or six) people on my email list replied to my first (experimental) plain text email. They responded with great ideas, conversation, and support. More people opened that email, too. And a few people even shared it with others! Hearing that made my day. Someone enjoyed what I wrote so much they felt compelled to share it! Amazing. I felt rewarded for my courage and grateful to Dan.
     
    The deeper reason I hired him is that I’m working on a proposal for my new book, and although I have confidence in the material, I realize that my author platform may not be robust enough to attract a traditional publisher. And, regardless of how I publish, I want to learn more about finding and building an audience for my work.
     
    The title of my new book is Where Do You Hang Your Hammock: How to Find Freedom and Peace of Mind While You Write, Publish, and Promote Your Book. Between the books I’m reading, the Nonfiction Writers Conference I attended last week, and the work I’m doing with Dan, my mind is flickering with marketing ideas. For example, I heard that there’s a “National Hammock Day,” which “commemorates the universal symbol for relaxation.” Who knew? Perhaps publishing my book on or near this date might provide publicity opportunities. 

    Although my book is geared toward writers, its message of resilience, flexibility, and cultivating freedom and peace of mind extend well behind this niche. Several ideas come to mind: I could write and pitch stories about relaxation to media outlets when my book launches—and every year after on my book’s “birthday.” I could reach out to special sales clients for bulk sales.  Maybe writing associations, organizations, nonprofit groups, or even writers’ clubs might want to purchase copies to give to their author-members as a welcome or thank you gift. The possibilities are fun to consider.
     
    I’m not saying I’ll never send out another designed newsletter, but for now I’m challenging myself to show up “plain”—just me and my thoughts about my unpredictable journey, in conversation with beloved readers and friends. One of the things I discovered while speaking to a writing colleague recently is that I’ve spent too much of my life hiding and trying to look good and it’s time to stop and just be me.
     
    Here’s the mission statement I wrote for Dan’s class:  
     
    I believe in the power of writing to heal and transform lives, and I view publishing and book promotion as opportunities to deepen self-awareness, nourish meaningful connections, and delight in peak experiences while being of service.

    Dan also encouraged me to get clear about my blog’s subject matter, which wasn’t hard to nail down. My blog explores intersections between the writing life, spirituality, and personal transformation and growth. That’s what my new book is about, too. I want to give this project its due. I want to give it space, let it breathe. I’m not in a hurry. 

    Is this easy? No! Does it diminish your overall creativity and writing output? No! Does it make you immune to vulnerability? No! But, honestly, I wouldn’t want to live any other way. I’m human. I vulnerable. I’m afraid. I take chances. And I sometimes fall on my ass. 

    There’s no one right way for authors to market their books. What works for one person may not work for another. The key, as I’ve said, is to come from your heart and to be authentic.


    While visiting the Descanso Gardens, I took this photo. Bridges literally connect us from one place to another. They are also great metaphors for psychologically transporting us from where we are to where we’d like to go. People can be bridges. So can unexpected situations or sudden insights. While writing this post, it occurred to me to do some additional, authentic marketing by putting my memoir on sale for the holidays.

    My memoir, Raw: A Midlife Quest for Health and Happiness, is available for $9.99 (no tax and free shipping)—if you buy it directly through my website. I’d be happy to sign the book to you or a friend or family member before mailing it. This offer is good through December 21. If you haven’t ordered a copy yet, please do. And if you read and enjoyed Raw, please consider buying a copy as a holiday gift. Your support means more than I can say.

    [Note from Marlene: Raw is excellent. I have learned from it personally and have given it as gifts.]

    Thanks for being part of my journey!

    Resources: 
    These are my favorite books that lay out today’s publishing landscape: The Business of Being a Writer, by Jane Friedman and Green-Light Your Book: How Writers Can Succeed in the New Era of Publishing, by Brooke Warner. 

    These books are excellent for marketing: Online Marketing for Busy Authors: A Step-by-Step Guide, by Fauzia Burke; Your First 1000 Copies: The Step-by-Step Guide to Marketing Your Book, by Tim Grahl; and Be the Gateway: A Practical Guide to Sharing Your Creative Work and Engaging an Audience, by Dan Blank.

    Bella Mahaya Carter is a poet, author, teacher, and coach. In 2008 Bombshelter press published her poetry book, Secrets of My Sex. Her poems, stories, essays, and articles appear in dozens of print and online journals. A practicing Spiritual Psychologist, whose mission is to heal herself and others through creative work, Bella serves clients around the world with her transformational classes, workshops, and coaching.

  • Guest Blogger Jenn Gott writes about 3 Inspiring Ways to Unlock the Book Inside You.

    Does this sound familiar: You’ve always been drawn to writing and have a mind brimming with ideas. You’ve always loved the idea of holding a book you have written — but somehow, despite all your best intentions and New Year’s Resolutions, it just hasn’t happened.

    Or maybe you’re a writer who has started a thousand writing projects, only to abandon them all within a few pages. Perhaps you’re not even sure if you want to be a writer, but you’ve always wanted to write a children’s book for your kids.

    Maybe you’re a poet, or a copywriter, or a journalist, and there’s a book you know you could write, if you just find the right words inside you.

    Maybe, maybe, maybe. One day.

    The trouble with “one day” is that it doesn’t exist — each day, there’s only today. Which is why I’m bringing you the three best practices that I’ve found to unlock and supercharge creativity. It doesn’t matter whether you’re a beginner who has always wanted to tell your story, or a seasoned pro who’s gotten mired in delays, worries, and self-doubt. Either way, these habits will have words flowing in no time.

    1. Find your community

    From National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) participants to your local writer’s group to authortube, it’s important to find your people wherever you can. Support is everything on your journey toward finishing a book, and it will inspire you more than anything else. To start, identify what kind of groups appeal most to you. Would you prefer to interact online,where you can hang out in your pajamas and reply at your leisure? Or would getting out of the house and seeing people face-to-face reinvigorate you? Are you interested in a classroom setting, a critique circle, or just some supportive friends who will provide lively discussion? Do you want to learn from people who are much more experienced than you, or strive together with peers at your skill level?

    Don’t feel you need to limit yourself to only one group. There’s nothing to keep you from making writer-friends on Twitter, and in person at bookish events, and through workshops. In fact, the more avenues you explore, the more likely you’ll find “your people.” Consider going to conferences, book signings, and events at your local library.

    Your community doesn’t need to be all writers. While it’s important to know some — to understand exactly what you’re going through, and bounce ideas off each other — a supportive and understanding friend or partner can go a long way. As you seek out connections, make sure to you surround yourself with people who believe in you. Remember, helpful and constructive criticism is good — how else can you learn the skills you’ll need to edit your book to perfection? But ragging on you and your work is toxic for everyone involved.

    2. Fill your creative well

    Sometimes the reason we’re not writing is simply that we’re emotionally tapped out. There are many factors that can cause creativity to dry up — everything from stress to poor mental health, to overwork, fatigue or illness, and creative burnout. And while it may feel silly to take time off to recharge if you haven’t been writing lately, sometimes that’s exactly what you need to do. Think of it like an arrow: pulling back first, in order to shoot forward.

    It’s important to make sure you’re recharging the right way, though. Scrolling through social media may be satisfying, but is it really going to inspire you to sit down at your laptop and write? Or would that time be better spent going for a walk, seeing a play, or reading an exquisitely written book?

    If you’re having trouble writing, take a minute to sit down and make a list of the things that energize you — physically, mentally, and creatively. Maybe plays aren’t your thing, but poetry is. Maybe a walk exhausts you, but yoga centers your mind. It really doesn’t matter what it is (truth be told, sometimes a movie or a video game inspires me). You just need to walk away from it refreshed, rejuvenated, and ready to tackle your big creative project.

    However, be careful not to let this turn into further procrastination. Remember, the point of these activities is to inspire you, not consume you. Always take a few minutes afterward to reflect on which parts of the experience spoke to you, and how you might use similar themes, moods, or ideas and blend them into your own work — or which mistakes you’ll want to avoid.

    3. Create your own writing retreat.

    Of course, we’d all love to go to a week-long retreat at a fancy cabin in the woods, but for many of us that simply isn’t an option. Luckily, there are ways to recreate the retreat feeling without venturing far from home or taking a lot of time out of your busy schedule.

    First, start by identifying any and all locations near you that might offer some peace and solitude. This can be as simple as locking your bedroom door, or as elaborate as a nice hotel nearby where you can book a room for a night or a weekend. Coffee shops, parks, or trains, and subways can do the trick, especially with a good pair of headphones! The point is to find someplace where you can block out thoughts of the outside world, including all your daily responsibilities. If you’re lucky enough to have a home office or a “room of one’s own,” try to find someplace else for your retreat — someplace you don’t work in every day.

    Next, consider what approach would best make that space feel more “writerly.” Would music help you, and if so, what kind? Would you feel more soothed with a soft blanket, a hot water bottle, or a big glass of wine? Candles, fairy lights, or other mood lighting can also help set the stage of your imagination. Remember, the point of this is to feel pampered, so don’t skimp on the creature comforts.

    Once you’ve identified where you’re going to take your “retreat” and how you’re going to cozy it up, the final step will be scheduling. This is, admittedly, the hardest part of your task, but with a bit of effort you can make it work. Try to block out a whole day, although even a few hours will be a huge boost.

    For magically productive people, just showing up might be enough to get the words flowing. For the rest of us, it might take a little more work, and a few handy tips and tricks. If you find yourself frozen at the prospect of getting started, consider freewriting as a warm up.

    Still unsure what to write about? Writing prompts might just be the kick your brain needs.

    Whatever you do, don’t stress out if your first “retreat” isn’t as fruitful as you’d imagined. Any progress is still progress, and the more often you repeat the writing habit — in any environment— the faster your creativity will kick into gear.

    Above all, remember: only you can tell your story. So, what are you waiting for? Get out there and tell your story. Today.


    Jenn Gott is an indie author and a writer with Reedsy, so she basically spends all her time either writing books, or helping people learn how to write books. She firmly believes there is no writing skill you cannot learn with practice and the right guidance. When she’s not working, she enjoys keeping up with the latest superhero movies, reading, and swimming.

  • I read about author Kira Jane Buxton in the Breaking In column, Writer’s Digest, October 2019 issue. I especially appreciate what she worked through to realize “. . . letting go of outside expectations while writing Hollow Kingdom afforded me the freedom to take great risks.”

    Her advice for writers: “Just have fun with it. Write the thing that’s burning inside you.”

    I enjoyed reading about her writing journey. I hope you will, too.

    Kira Jane Buxton

    I had a solid ten years of professional rejection under my belt by the time I realized I wanted to be a writer. Ten years of trying to ignite an acting career and an art career, seemingly with a broken match and wet kindling. A creative writing class at Santa Monica College (a gift from my husband that I deferred for a year because I was petrified) got my blood pumping and made me realize that all along, what I’d wanted to do was bring characters to life, and it didn’t have to involve the grueling audition process. I realized I wanted to write a book, and—since I’ve always believed that a dream should never be burdened with limits or stipulations—I wanted to publish that book. To be very brave and share my words with the world.

    I wrote my first novel, painstakingly tapping it out on an iPad because I’d saved up for one and it made me feel fancy. It was, in line with many a first novel, not spectacular. The plot was exciting, but I hadn’t yet found my voice. It was, however, filled with passion and something that can’t ever be phoned in—a writer’s enthusiasm for writing itself. I queried agents with this novel to a response like the chirping of crickets (I should mention that the query itself was absolutely horrendous and started with, “Dear Agent, The leg is human.”)

    No stranger to recovering from a letdown, I picked myself up and wrote a memoir about a strange experience I had while living in LA (one of a great many strange experiences I had in Hollyweird, La La Land). I queried agents again, this time with some interest. An agent who reps one of my favorite authors wrote back, saying that while she felt the book didn’t work, she loved my writing and could see this memoir fictionalized as a humorous mystery series. Huzzah! I jumped back into the saddle and spent the next year rewriting the novel. I sent it back to the agent who felt that it was on its way, but still needed work. I hired two great independent editors (working with them separately). I edited this novel for many, many more months. In fact, I edited it into the high heavens. I edited it into oblivion.

    One day, I opened up my document and couldn’t see a word of this novel I’d worked so very hard on. I took breaks and would come back to it, only to discover I still couldn’t see it. Ever the optimist, I decided that I should write the sequel to this novel I was blind to! I wrote the sequel, came back to open up the document, and still couldn’t see it.

    The words no longer felt like my own. And I had to admit that I’d lost the novel, that it was well and truly dead. Things with the agent fizzled out, and years of work suddenly seemed like a phenomenal waste of time.

    I fell into despair. All the rejection I’d ever experienced (which was, frankly, all I’d ever experienced) came crashing down on me. I cried a lot. I figured I’d never achieve anything creatively. I often make light of this time, because that’s how humorists cope with difficult times, we transmogrify them into manageable jokes—but it was incredibly hard.

    It was my husband who told me to “go and write the thing about the crows.” I love crows. I’m an animal lover and spend time with two wild crows daily, they’re family to me. My husband then gave me the best writing advice I’ve ever had. He said, “Just have fun with it. Don’t write it with an expectation of getting an agent or getting published, just write for you.” I took his advice to heart. I wasn’t sure how to write about crows, but one day, while driving, it hit me. “What if a crow is telling the story of our species? And what if a crow is telling the story of our extinction?” I got goosebumps. I raced home and wrote the first chapter, from the perspective of S.T., a domesticated crow who loves humans. His language was fouler than I’d anticipated or ever imagined writing (and certainly couldn’t see getting published!), even his name is an expletive. I poured my passion into the book—my deep love of animals and an exploration of how disconnected we’ve become from the natural world (which is frankly, the only world we have). It was an environmental parable filled with humor, horror, adventure, facts about nature, and poop jokes.

    I braved reading the first chapter to my writing group, who encouraged me to query this novel I called Hollow Kingdom. And then I was flying out to New York to interview the agents who had offered me representation. I signed with Bill Clegg of The Clegg Agency and we sold Hollow Kingdom at auction to Grand Central Publishing. It is being translated into many different languages and AMC have optioned the rights for a TV series.

    I don’t believe that words are ever wasted. The novels in the drawer are essential to our process and should be cherished, whether they get published or not. No one should ever be made to feel ashamed about their ambitions and dreams—the bigger, the better, I say—but those external goals shouldn’t be the only reason you’re writing. They can be motivating and used as fuel, but they shouldn’t be the core reason you share your words. Write the thing that’s burning inside you. Write your story, no matter how weird or different or afraid you are to tell it. There are currently 7.7 billion people on earth and you’re the only one who can tell us your tale. Enjoy the journey as much as you can. Now that I’m on the other side of publishing a book, I can tell you that the most magical part of the whole process is still sitting down, tuning out the real world, and exploring the creative dance between mind and page. Take breaks when it’s hard and be careful of over editing. Know that you are always going to be the leading authority on your writing. Build community. Be kind to other artists, especially because you know how tough the process can be. Reciprocity is everything, when one writer does well, celebrate, it’s a victory for all of us. Above all, just have fun with it. Every editor who made an offer on Hollow Kingdom said that they could feel what an incredible time I had writing this novel. I stopped trying to be the writer I thought I should be. I let go. Energy is everything and everything is energy. Take the pressure off yourself and trust that when you are in the flow, when you let go of your chokehold on an outcome, your very best writing will take you places, literary and literally, you could never imagine.

    Kira Jane Buxton’s writing has appeared in The New York Times, NewYorker.com, McSweeney’s, The Rumpus, Huffington Post, and more. She calls the tropical utopia of Seattle home and spends her time with three cats, a dog, two crows, a charm of hummingbirds, and a husband.

  • Today’s brilliant post is by Nancy Julien Kopp:

    I’m a proponent of starting with small projects and moving on, step by step, to the bigger ones. Many writers dream of publishing a novel or a full book memoir. Some will start out their writing journey by beginning the pursuit of that dream immediately. It’s fine to have a worthy goal, but diving in the deep end before you know how to swim can bring big problems.

    Start small. Write a personal essay or memoir about an occurrence, something that happened and had some meaning for you. Later, it might become a part of the book you hope to write. Those little snippets of memoir can grow into something much larger, as can your personal experiences that taught you a lesson, as we see in personal essays.

    Novelists can practice their skill by writing short stories before attempting a full novel. Lots of short stories. Use all the tools you have as a writer to write a good short story, then submit it. If you have some success in selling your short stories, it could very well be time to begin writing the novel you’ve been thinking about for a very long time.

    Many writers want to start with the big project, to write a memoir or a novel before writing anything else. They have read many books. How hard can it be? Some will begin by reading a book or two on writing novels (or memoirs), and that’s fine. Others will not bother with reading a book about how to write a novel. They’ll start with chapter one, page one. A few might do very well with this method, but most are going to run into one roadblock after another. At some point, the whole thing could become overwhelming. 

    If that happens, step back and work on smaller projects for a while. Read some of those reference books on writing a memoir or novel. Attend a workshop about the same. Talk to other writers. Gather all the information you can before you tackle that big idea.

    One of my keywords is patience. Don’t be in such a hurry to tackle the big game plan. Take your time, learn as you go, but continue to keep the original goal in mind. Start on the big scheme when you feel ready. With some success at smaller projects, you’ll have some confidence in your ability to take on the big one. 

    Nancy Julian Kopp has been published in 22 Chicken Soup for the Soul books, several anthologies including The Write Spot: Possibilities, newspapers, magazines and ezines. Her writing includes award-winning fiction for children, creative nonfiction, poetry, travel and personal essays.  She was named Prose Writer of the Year in 2013 by the Kansas Authors Club.

  • Michael Shapiro’s latest book is a winner.

    Below is an excerpt from the introduction of The Creative Spark: How musicians, writers, explorers, and other artists found their inner fire and followed their dreams.

    It reminds me of an important message for every one: We are all unique and have our stories to tell. No one else can tell your story. Only you can.

    From The Creative Spark by Michael Shapiro

    Something magical happened as I completed this book. One evening just before sunset I was in our backyard watering the planter boxes. On a stem of parsley I noticed a startling pattern of color, concentric rings of orange and black dots. Looking closer I saw the segments of a swallowtail caterpillar and could identify its tiny feet. For the next few days the caterpillar chomped on the parsley plant, absorbing energy for the next stage of its life. I placed a stick in the pot, at an angle to give the caterpillar a place to hang its chrysalis.

    The caterpillar’s appearance felt like a message from the universe. For many months I’d been working on transforming interviews I’d conducted with some of the world’s most creative people into a coherent set of chapters. I’d distilled the essence of these interviews into a tonic of ideas about the creative process. And I’d written biographical introductions that sought to put each person’s life in perspective and offer insights about the sources of his or her art.

    As I write this, on 2019’s summer solstice, our adopted caterpillar (my wife has given it the gender-neutral name Jordan) is undergoing a miraculous transformation into a butterfly. During the past week, we’ve watched the caterpillar turn into a chrysalis that matches the color of the branch from which it hangs, its striated brown camouflage the antithesis of the colorful creature it was just a few days ago. Yet it’s what is happening inside the chrysalis that is truly astonishing.

    The caterpillar is dissolving, using enzymes to digest itself. It’s being broken down into nonspecific cells that can be used for any part of the butterfly. Yet some “highly organized groups of cells known as imaginal discs survive the digestive process,” according to Scientific American. Each of these constellations of cells is programmed to build a specific part of the butterfly. There are imaginal discs for wings, for eyes, for legs, for every part of the butterfly. Typically, after about two weeks, a yellow-and-black swallowtail butterfly will crack open the chrysalis, dry its wings in the morning sun, and fly off seeking nectar.

    Why bring up a caterpillar in a book about creativity? First, because it offers such a rich metaphor, and the name “imaginal discs” suggests that making art depends on imagination. And to prepare for its transformation, the caterpillar needs to first feed itself, just as a musician or author must absorb the thoughts and influences that come from songs, books, conversations, memories, and observations. Many creative people seek to isolate themselves, cocoon-like, to escape the relentless drumbeat of popular culture so they can hear their own voices.

    “What I noticed at an early stage was that the writers I admire are living a long way from the world,” the author Pico Iyer told me. “The great originals are originals because they’re living outside the received conversation, outside secondhand words and secondhand ideas, to some extent living in a space of their own where they’re able to hear their deeper self and come up with things completely outside the norm. I think that’s why they really shake us.”

    Isn’t that what we crave in this era of information overload: songs or stories that really shake us and offer new ways of seeing the world, of hearing ourselves, of feeling, on a soul level, our deepest truths? That’s why I’ve chosen the 31 creative people in this book. They’re original, pioneering, dynamic, and insatiably curious. The authors, musicians, and others profiled in these pages could coast on their earlier accomplishments, but every one has continued to seek adventurous new avenues for igniting their creative spark.

    Of course, seeking solitude to hear one’s inner voice doesn’t mean we should shut out those who came before us. As Iowa folk singer Greg Brown says, “I feel links back to a time that not much is known about. Songs, poetry, whatever you want to call it, that urge, it just goes way, way, way back there. And that’s a good connection to feel to life. It’s hard for me to imagine life without that.”

    Back to me (Marlene) 

    I hope you can spend 15 minutes a day (or longer, if you can) and write your story, as only you can.

    Meet Michael at the launch of The Creative Spark.
    Nov 9 at 4 pm. Book Passage in Corte Madera. 

  • Guest Blogger, David Moldawer, is the author of The Maven Game. He writes weekly essays for writers.

    Perfection vs Good Enough

    Take the old quote:   Perfect is the enemy of good.

    Voltaire might have been the one to say it in this form, but the idea of “good enough beats unattainable ideal” has been around much longer. In fact, it warrants its own Wikipedia entry, if you’re curious to trace its history.

    However it’s expressed, it’s good advice for a writer. But is it perfect? (See what I did there?) I’ve often said, “remember, perfect is the enemy of good,” to people stuck in the trap of perfectionism, but over time I’ve come to question the effectiveness of simply saying the words.

    If you’re working on a solo project with no genuine deadline, more can be done to improve it. And even more. There is always a better solution to even the smallest creative problem in any work, whether or not you can find it in a reasonable amount of time. That simple fact can be paralyzing. In fact, I’d argue that while writers might not actually get “blocked”—nothing is truly in the way of getting words down—they can definitely be paralyzed by perfectionism.

    While I’m skeptical of the value of the adage—it’s never gotten me out of any ruts—I do find demonstrations of the good-enough philosophy motivating. They get me going when nothing else can. Seeing good-enough in action, it becomes just a little bit easier to inject a little pragmatism into your own work.

    I’ve written before about my love of the competitive forging reality show Forged in Fire and this is a part of it. When a smith accidentally snaps his blade in half with thirty minutes left on the clock, it’s inspiring to see a feat that took over two hours the first time somehow repeat itself in a quarter of the time with comparable results. A few minutes of an episode of Forged in Fire is often the kick in the pants I need to push through and finish instead of finesse.

    Another place I turn to for good-enough inspiration is the YouTube series Pitch Meeting. In it, writer/actor/comedian Ryan George portrays both a sociopathic studio executive and the manically productive screenwriter tasked with pitching him on his latest project. (He’s the writer behind all the big movies.) As the screenwriter explains what happens in the film, the exec can’t help but point out all the things that don’t make any sense, or that might annoy viewers, or that might be downright offensive. “Whoopsie!” the screenwriter cheerfully replies. “Whoopsie!” The exec repeats. And on they go to the next plot point. After all, they’ve got a movie to make.

    For over two years, George-the-screenwriter has pitched George-the-exec on dozens, if not hundreds, of movies.

    The beauty of the Pitch Meeting concept is that it forces you, the viewer, to grapple with the fact that a real writer and a real exec—at minimum—had to force their way through all the inconsistencies and logical fallacies inherent in a screenplay in order to get it made. It goes without saying that they solved many more than they ignored, but at a certain point, the originators had to say “whoopsie!” and leave it at that.

    Click here to read the rest of David’s “Whoopsie” essay.

  • Guest Blogger Alisha Wielfaert encourages us to work through the difficulties rather than be stuck in the mud.

    This excerpt is from her December 4, 2017 blog post, with her epiphany about her year of travel.

    The glowing orange moon rose over the cypress swamp as we drove home with tired limbs, hungry bellies and full hearts after a long day of kayaking. I had almost bowed out of this trip before it even started. 

    Maia called me on my last trip to DC before I left for Paris and said, “We’re camping at Carolina beach and taking a few of my students to kayak the three sisters swamp to visit some of the oldest cypress trees in the world.  Can you join us?”  

    Maia, full of energy and excitement, just isn’t someone you tell “no” even though I knew saying yes meant two days away from home after only 3 nights in my own bed. That’s how I found myself in a swamp in the middle of nowhere, NC somewhere near the coast.

    Sunlight streaked through the bare trees and flooded over us, floating on the water with two adventurous women. I reflected that this time last week I had been in Paris running next to the Seine then eating a bistro dinner. 

    It’s now December and I’m in a swamp with muddy, soaking wet shoes and socks because I just jumped out of a kayak to see, touch, and feel trees that are over 2500 years old. Older than Jesus.

    This self-proclaimed year of travel has been a wild ride. The backs of my eyes sting with tears I’m holding back as I realize that this year of travel adventures has ended.

    In addition to a touch of sadness, there is also extreme relief that these adventures are over because I’ve been spread thin more than when I was working a full-time job and running a yoga studio.  

    Reflecting on this through the cypress swamp I’m suddenly aware of the magnitude of everything I experienced in the last 12 months, and I’m emotional.  

    I’ve gained so much but also at a cost. I’m spent financially, relationships at home need tending, and I’m ready to give my new business my full attention.  

    I’m not ready to sum up the year just yet, there’s still too much to process and I need some space between the experience and writing about it.

    One of the biggest lessons of the year of the travel has been “too much of a good thing is still too much.”

    But if I had followed that lesson I would have said no to this camping trip and I would have got to rest at home, maybe even getting work done, but I never would have got to car camp at the ocean, and connect deeply with these men and women in the absence of many words while floating down a river and visiting 2500-year-old cypress trees in the middle of no-where.  

    While we were floating on the river, I realized that when you’re on the right path it feels like you’re being pulled and the current will carry you in the right direction.  Even if you do nothing you’ll at least be ever so slowly pulled in the right direction.  

    When you get off the right path you might find that you’ve landed on a sand bar alone and getting back into the current can be really difficult.

    When I worked in corporate America, I didn’t feel like I was moving. I was stuck in the mud.  

    I’ve had to claw and dig my way back to the current, to the right path, and now I feel like I’m being physically pulled in the right direction.  

    Looking back over this whole year I realize that as soon as I made my mind up to leave what didn’t serve me, I’ve been pulled in the right direction.  

    Frankly it’s not been a gentle process. It feels like I’ve been pulled through a class 5 rapids over the last 12 months and I’ve been hanging on for dear life trying to keep it together.

    But that’s a much better feeling than being stuck in the mud alone.  

    Meet Alisha Wielfaert

    I’m a leadership, life and creativity coach who specializes in working with women. I do this work because my purpose in life is to use my curiosity, empathy and listening skills to walk as a guide with seekers on paths towards clarity of purpose.  

    I’m the compass to point you towards your north to ensure you fully step into your own power.  

    I spent over a decade in corporate America in sales for an insurance company, a great company and a great career, but for someone else.

    I went about gathering tools, looking for the map and the compass to find my own north.

    I became a certified yoga instructor, taught yoga classes, opened a yoga studio and created a program to teach others how to share the gift of yoga.

    Yoga and the trainings I’ve received as a yoga teacher brought me closer to my calling, it gave me the map, but I wasn’t quite there.  

    After selling the yoga studio, I started leadership, life and creativity coaching.  

    For the first time in my life, I knew I could stop searching. I had my compass. This was the work I’d been put on this earth to do.  

    I coach individuals and groups, lead workshops to move you north of neutral, speak on topics to help others flourish, and lead retreats all over the world.  

    This work is my calling and it’s a gift to share it with you.  

    When we step into our power, we make the world a better place. Let’s shine our lights brightly together!