The Evening and the Morning in 𝛕®∪m₽’s America
I fought in [a] war for this country, saw friends die, got PTSD. For what? For this? To be afraid of what the future holds for my wife and daughters? For our healthcare and retirement plans? For our beautiful planet that we humans seem hellbent on destroying in the name of a few cents off at the gas pump? For our republic which nearly lasted 250 years? This is my reward? Ashamed does not begin to describe how I feel.
(Source)
The week before the election I listened to The Evening and the Morning, a doorstopper of a novel set in medieval England. The YouTube algorithm had gifted me with a very interesting writing tip from Ken Follett and I wanted to see this plotting principle of his in action. (Spoilers to follow. You have been warned!)
Follett’s rule of thumb is this: your plot should be turning every four to six pages. Some sort of obstacle or revelation. The turn could be catastrophic or it could be something “small,” but it won’t be insignificant because it has somehow altered the character’s situation and how we view it.
And whoooo boy, the first turning in The Evening and the Morning is a swift hard punch to the gut. Our hero, Edgar, starts the novel embarking upon one kind of life, but by the end of that first chapter he’s on a totally different course owing to factors beyond his control.
The primary villain in The Evening and the Morning is a bishop named Wynstan. He’s a stereotypical baddie, cruel and conniving, using everyone he interacts with like pawns on a chessboard. This “man of God” is guilty of fornication, theft, forgery, arson, and worse. HE MURDERS HIS OWN BROTHER, for crying out loud.
And he gets away with all of it.
…Is this sounding familiar?
Wynstan’s corruption is SO egregious that a naively optimistic reader (ahem) keeps thinking, “WOW. Just when you think this guy can’t get any more flagrantly evil! This time surely he’ll be made to answer for his sins!”
But the comeuppance never happens. Wynstan gets away with EVERYTHING.
That’s how it looks right now. “Don the Con” has zero empathy, zero capacity for self reflection, and certainly no concept of public service. The rational 48% of the American electorate has repeatedly asked, what more does he have to do before the M⩓G⩓ crowd admits they’ve been scammed by a megalomaniacal felon?
But that’s not how cult psychology works. At this point I feel like the man could devour a baby on live television and retain a majority of his followers. This time, when cult members follow their leader off a cliff, the rest of the world might very well be swept along—into a fascist hellscape.
How are we to conduct ourselves inside this bog of eternal stench? How can we best employ our creativity in response to forces beyond our control?
When we read compelling fiction, it may seem that we have dropped through an escape hatch out of ordinary life, but in actuality we are cultivating our emotional intelligence, giving ourselves space to consider how we would feel and act in a hypothetical situation. What would I do if I were Edgar, Ragna, or Aldred discovering Wynstan’s latest act of sabotage? Would that be the crime that finally broke me?
In Follett’s novel, Aldred the abbot builds his center of learning and Edgar and Ragna finally get to live happily after. And where’s Wynstan?
Living in a leper colony, brain and body rotting with syphilis.
Don the Con is here to expose our hypocrisies (because, come on, no Black American is EVER going to wonder “whatever happened to common decency?”). He is here to teach us how to stand up to bullies, and to show us what happens when we defund public education. Clearly these lessons will take longer than eight or twelve years to learn. Bullies don’t always get what they deserve, but their power always comes with a time limit, even if it’s decades longer than it should be. Evening to morning, this plot will go on turning.
So let’s keep going. Keep making, keep dreaming, keep being kind to one another in the midst of all that is cruel and absurd. No matter how they distort the facts, this is our country and our world too.
A few more links:
Octavia Butler’s short story “The Evening and the Morning and the Night” [have you read Parable of the Sower yet?]
Heather Demetrios, Steady As She Goes
George Saunders, A Slightly Altered Course (Here at Story Club)
The most comforting hot breakfast cereal
Love in an Age of Madness, an (admittedly overwrought) 2016-election reaction piece
P.S. The International Rescue Committee is the humanitarian aid organization to which I contribute on a monthly basis. Here’s a link so you can click through and donate if you feel so inclined.
Notes on de-optimizing my life
Hello! I feel like a badger emerging from my burrow only to announce to the great open prairie that she’s been feeling quite happy down there in the cozy dark. I’ve been off social media, quietly re-plotting my novel and spending QT with my family, falling in love (see above image 🥰) and reveling in all my rich creative friendships.
These days I just laugh and shake my head whenever I see mention of “hustling” or “productivity systems” or “optimization”—as a wise person once said, some games you can win only by declining to play—although I have to admit up front that I am writing from a very privileged position as a result of the Bones and All adaptation. It is a lot easier to say “Nahhh, I don’t want to do that anymore” (e.g., stay visible and responsive online; finish a new manuscript as quickly as possible, knowing it won’t be my best work) when royalty checks are paying the rent. It is a luxury to opt out in the way that I have, AND I think it is possible to reorient oneself in relation to the “shoulds” and “have tos” regardless of one’s individual circumstances.
“De-optimizing my life” means doing things in my own time and for my own reasons. Here are some specific mindset alterations to that effect:
I don’t need a fancy website.
A conversation with my friend Forbes Graham (check out our three-part No Bones at All chat over on YouTube!) on the frustrating aspects of “maintaining an online presence” culminated in my declaring that I wanted a new website almost as minimal as Zen Habits, and Forbes offering to migrate my old website to Squarespace for me. (I knew I wanted Squarespace because my friend Heather has been happy using it for hers.) And here we are!
[Note: I’m still tidying up, so you may notice some wonky formatting and a broken link here and there. I’m working on it! Feel free to leave a comment if there’s something you’re looking for and can’t find.]
For anyone only just finding me, here is what my site used to look like:
It was pretty (thank you, Evan!) and it served me well for a full decade. And then I found myself yearning for something VERY simple.
I don’t care about digital marketing.
“Comet Party” is gone apart from the URL—for now, anyway—so I suppose you could say I’ve unbranded myself, since I’m not teaching or coaching or making videos and can’t say when I’ll get back to it. I’ve moved on from the preoccupations I outlined in a 2017 blog post called Email Marketing and “Authenticity.” I don’t have to send an email newsletter when I have little to say, I don’t have to sell you anything (not even my books), and I don’t have to be a “public figure.” The Bones and All film experience, though marvelous in SO many ways, made me realize that maintaining firm boundaries (like turning off Instagram DMs) and a certain level of remove is way better for my mental health than trying to be warm and responsive to everyone. Despite all the oversharing I’ve done on this blog over the years (ha!), I really am an introvert who is happiest either at home drafting a novel in her pajamas or out having real-life adventures with one or two or three dear friends.
Note: If you purchased one of my Teachable courses (THANK YOU!) or are missing my “office hours” videos on Instagram (bless you!), it’s all good—I will be back eventually!—and if you have any questions about the course you purchased, you can always email me.
Having said all this, let me assert that a choice to withdraw (temporarily or not) is not the same as “playing small,” which is a micro-aggressive judgment frequently employed to sell exorbitantly-priced coaching packages. After my main Bones and All event (YouTube link) at the Celsius 232 festival this past July, several young women came to the signing table to tell me how seen and understood my remarks on misogyny had made them feel, and I still feel VERY fired up about reflecting the real-world experience of women in this culture in my fiction. It’s just that a new story (not the time-travel novel, although it will certainly touch on these concerns) is going to take a considerable amount of time in solitude. I’m not going to try to fast-draft a new novel because somebody else on the internet says they can draft a 70,000-word manuscript in thirty days or less. And on that note…
Slowly, quietly, steadily.
As I knit another fingering-weight cardigan for my four-year-old niece, I think of how her great-grandfather used to razz me for choosing such tiny yarn and needles. “That’s going to take you forever to finish!,” he’d laugh, even though he understood that the point isn’t to finish something quickly. As an expression of love and care, there is nothing quite like a handmade garment that fits well and is designed with the recipient’s likes and needs in mind.
And the process of matching yarn to pattern, assembling your tools (needles, stitch markers, waste yarn, my tiny canister of tapestry needles), and casting on: this is a series of pleasurable tactile experiences in and of themselves, and to focus on completing a project in an expedient manner is to diminish that pleasure. There’s also the matter of creative hindsight: when I make something, be it a novel or a sweater, I don’t want to look back five or ten or more years from now and regret the corners I cut. (More on this in a future post.)
When I feel the need to slow down (or whenever I make a mistake), I say to myself (usually aloud), “I am not a robot!” I want to be effective (standard = mine), but I don’t necessarily need to be efficient (standard is external). These days I’m working with the cyclical nature of my own creativity, just as I make a point of taking it easy when my body is in winter mode. I’m hand-quilting a quilt for myself, and yes, we are at seven months and counting. In the kitchen, I put on a fun audiobook or podcast and let food prep and cleanup take however long it takes. And I don’t set my alarm unless I have an early train to catch.
But for anyone reading this post who doesn’t have that luxury, I want to offer a maxim my friend Sierra shared with me back when I did care about the digital-marketing stuff: Slow is smooth and smooth is fast. Ever notice how you get more done when you first do the things you need to do to feel sane and centered?
I don’t have to finish what I start.
(You’d think this wouldn’t feel new to me given that I have so many unfinished manuscripts on my hard drive and feel no shame about it.) Recently I checked out a biography of Buckminster Fuller from the library (my protagonist is an inventor and I was hoping for inspiration). But the more I learned about Fuller, the more disgusted I felt. Turns out it is possible to be a visionary and a psychic-vampire-slash-con-artist. I’m well over a hundred pages in, but I don’t want to continue. So I won’t!
I am paying attention to my “completist” tendencies, which result in wasted time whenever I’m not truly enjoying a book or learning as much as I expected to. I couldn’t even tell you how many Libby audiobooks I’ve returned around the ten-minute mark in recent months, because LIFE IS SHORT and there are PLENTY OF BOOKS I WILL ACTUALLY SWOON OVER!
There are way fewer “have-tos” in life than we think.
As a self-employed person with no dependents, I can’t even imagine how much harder boundary-setting must be for folks with Constant Pressing Demands On Their Time and Energy. Because even for me, it is HARD.
If you were to make a list of all the things you think you “have to” do, how frequently would you find you are trying to live up to someone else’s (whether societal or individual) expectations?
I don’t have to cook dinner for anyone other than myself.
I don’t have to say yes to an interview request.
I don’t have to continue socializing once it’s occurred to me that I would rather be alone.
I don’t have to maintain a relationship with a toxic family member.
My time and energy are mine to do with as I please: that’s a hard thing to declare when women are socialized for (over)giving. Oftentimes we’re still seen as selfish for not putting someone else’s needs (or “needs”) ahead of our own. My people-pleasing tendencies loooove to masquerade as generosity, and let’s face it: I am going to spend the rest of my life observing which of those two motivations is in the driver’s seat in any given interaction.
A daily practice of “ruthless realism.”
Since turning forty (today is my 43rd birthday!) I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to have entered a more mature phase of my career/life and how I can best formulate what I’ve learned for the benefit of younger writers. And while it might sound depressing at first mention, it is actually the best thing for my mental health to be ruthlessly realistic about what I can and cannot, or probably will not, accomplish in this lifetime.
I am (probably) never going to read that book, so I’ll leave it in that Little Free Library around the corner.
I am (definitely) never going to write that novel about the burlesque dancer and the chocolatier. Time to recycle those notes!
I am (probably) never going to make that pile of fabric into a garment I will actually wear. Time to post it on Freecycle.
This person I’ve just met seems wonderful, but do I have the bandwidth for cultivating new friendships? Especially considering that I already have several dear friends I’ve been meaning to reconnect with for months?
I have lots more thoughts on this mindset as it pertains to my physical space (there is an “Aspirational Lightness of Being, part 4” in my drafts, LOLsob), but I’ll leave it here for now.
It’s okay to live for pleasure and connection.
I have next-door neighbors who sit out front chit-chatting all day (and evening) whenever the weather’s warm and fair enough. Though they are often annoying (blasting the radio, occasionally throwing a beer bottle over the fence, yelling at their dog), these goings-on leave me reflecting on a daily basis about what it means to live a “good” life. It is a timeless absurdity of the human experience that some folks—my neighbors and me—get to kick back and enjoy ourselves when people elsewhere in the world are living through war and famine.
What can we do beyond trying our best to be a positive presence in the lives of the people around us (and making a donation to humanitarian aid)? What if that is the sole criterion for a life well lived?
I’m not saying it is. Just something to think about.
I’ve been blogging so infrequently these past several years that I don’t know how many people are actually going to read this, but if you’re still here (thank you!), tell me in the comments if any of this resonates for you! 💗
The Power of Private Writing is LIVE!
This free workshop is for email subscribers, so sign on up if you haven't already and you'll get the links in your welcome email! 🙌
How to Work With Me (if You Can't Afford to Work With Me)
Inspired by Rachael Rice's question,
“Can we imagine the impact of our work beyond those who can afford it?”,
I offer a clear progression as to how any aspiring writer (or other creative person) can benefit from my experience:
Watch the Life Without Envy mini-workshop and read the essays I've posted on Medium (links are on my Archive page.)
If that content resonates for you, sign up for my mailing list so you'll get access to my free resource library. Watch the The Power of Private Writing and do the prompts. Also be sure to check out the Life Without Envy mini-workbook inside the resource library—the success-to-satisfaction paradigm shift is particularly important.
Ask for Life Without Envy and A Bright Clean Mind at your local library. (Depending on the library, some librarians are able to order books that patrons have requested for the collection.)
By now, you probably have at least a few questions percolating. Ask as many of them as you like, and I'll make one or more videos especially for you as part of my office-hours series. [EDIT, January 2024: I am still on YouTube/social media hiatus, but your question will be waiting for me when I come back!]
Watch the video(s) I've made to answer your question(s), and ask any follow-up questions you may have.
At any point in this progression, you can DM me on Instagram or Twitter or send me an email to introduce yourself; I will be very happy to connect with you, I just ask that you respect my time and psychic energy by refraining from asking me to read your manuscript (which is something I don't even do for paid coaching clients before we've established a rapport) or writing emails that require a long private reply (like many folks these days, my email inbox is a source of anxiety for me, so relatively quick messages are the way to go).
As a white woman from a middle-class background who has sometimes been "broke" but will never be "poor," I also ask that my fellow white writers take some time, in general, to reflect on what they truly can and cannot "afford." I want to practice generosity in sharing my experience with everyone, but I am also trying to avoid being taken advantage of (which has happened more than once, alas, and usually with people who could have afforded to compensate me for my time and insight).
Over the next few years, I'm looking to develop a free group mentoring program for aspiring writers from marginalized communities, and if that sounds like something you'd love to be a part of, then get started now! And if you feel so inspired, I'd love it if you shared my free resources with any friends or colleagues who would find them useful. Thank you, and I hope we'll be in touch soon. 🙏💕
Emotional Hygiene Resources for Writers (and Everyone!)
If the title of this blog post caught your attention, then you probably already understand that your emotional wellbeing is the bedrock of your creative practice. Not only are you not capable of your best work while you're in "hot-mess" mode, your unexamined, unmanaged emotions may very well be creating a more stressful environment for your loved ones, friends, and colleagues. I've been the daughter, sister, friend, and girlfriend foisting her toxic storm of feelings onto her loved ones, and it's high time I shared what I've learned about emotional hygiene since Life Without Envy came out in 2016.
More recently (in May 2019) I made a video as part of a Life Without Envy web workshop on YouTube, and the recommendations in that video are still good. I've gone deeper into my private writing practice since then, though, and I have one daily prompt to share that will hopefully be as big a game-changer for you as it has been for me (it's at the end of this post).
Quick disclaimer: I am not a mental health professional, merely a fellow artist committed to taking responsibility for her emotional wellbeing and developing her emotional intelligence.
More on YouTube
Guy Winch’s TEDx talk, Why we all need to practice emotional first aid
Dr. Abdul Saad's Self-Transformation Series [I really appreciate his pleasantly neutral presence and delivery—it makes the concepts he's sharing much easier to grasp]
Clean vs. Dirty Pain and other videos from Therapy in a Nutshell [this channel is very helpful, just beware there's occasional religiosity]
How to Feel Peace Even with Challenges, Leslie Huddart
What can I give?, Taking responsibility for our own happiness, and other videos from Ralph de la Rosa
My favorite yoga teachers on YouTube: Koya Webb (highly recommend Yoga for Anxiety and Stress Relief), Kino MacGregor, Yoga with Adriene, Erica Rascon
Read on the web
An excerpt from Eckhart Tolle’s The Power of Now
7 Ways to Practice Emotional First Aid [also Guy Winch]
Byron Katie [There are free downloadable worksheets on her site, though you don't necessarily need to fill them out; for me the key takeaway is to ask after every judgmental or otherwise negative thought you have, "Is that true?" Because it's usually not.]
Heather Demetrios, Halting Your Thought Traffic and Hold Your Seat [+ her whole blog!]
Books
[Full disclosure: I'm using Bookshop.org affiliate links.]
Eckhart Tolle, The Power of Now and A New Earth
Guy Winch, Emotional First Aid [I recorded an excerpt here]
Joe Dispenza's Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself
Pema Chödrön's Comfortable With Uncertainty
Trevor Blake's Three Simple Steps
Dr. Eric Maisel's Coaching the Artist Within and Mastering Creative Anxiety
Lauren Sapala's The INFJ Revolution [I'm an INFP and I still felt like Lauren was reading my soul!]
And the daily practice that has helped me most:
Since last spring, the first thing I do each day (after going to the bathroom and brewing coffee) is to write down how I'm feeling and why—and if I don't know why, I keep writing until I have some semblance of an answer. And if I find myself feeling grumpy or frustrated during the day, I pause whatever I'm doing, go back to my journal, and ask the two questions again:
What am I feeling right now?
Why am I feeling it?
I didn't really learn this from anyone, it just occurred to me one day that it would be beneficial to articulate my emotions in real time, and I noticed soon afterward that I was much less reactive. I'm also much more patient with myself and others—there have been several occasions over these past eight months when I paused and thought, Before, I would have snapped. Owing to a few unfortunate episodes in my early childhood (flagged "TMI" in the context of this post), my "pain body" is activated when I feel invisible in social situations, so (for me, at least) it's the "self witnessing," "self validating" aspect of the exercise that has resulted in this shift. I articulate my emotions without attaching a sense of "rightness" to them, remaining as lovingly neutral as it is possible for me to be in that particular moment.
I hope at least one of these resources offers you some relief from the COVID pressure cooker (in addition to all the "usual" stresses of life). I'll add to this list whenever I encounter more helpful content. If you have any favorite books or links to share, I would be grateful if you left a comment. [And a big shout-out to Rachel for inspiring this post!]
Sign up for more where this came from
My new opt-in goodie is a concise 35-minute private writing workshop video + workbook. (How is "private writing" different from journaling? Watch this.) If you found this post helpful and want more, sign up for my list and you'll receive the link in your welcome email.
Comet Party Summer School: the Vision Statement
What are the two most powerful words in this or any language?
I am.
I’ve been thinking about this ever since Jill Louise Busby dropped me a DM after reading Life Without Envy. Thank you for being a vessel, she wrote.
I am a vessel, I thought. I said it out loud. And the more I said it, the righter it felt.
In the beginning, I only wanted to tell stories. I wanted to be clever and I wanted to be recognized for my cleverness. The other day I cracked a journal I kept in 2007, scanned one entry, and felt a sweet surge of relief that I am not that person anymore. (This is why I keep my notebooks.)
The evolution out of a desire to prove oneself into a desire to contribute is the central tenet of Life Without Envy, and for me that first twinkling happened in the summer and early autumn of 2010 when I volunteered on my friends’ homestead farm in Vermont. I have never been quite so content as I was those days I spent planting and weeding and watering, sleeping in a platform tent, rising before six to watch the sun coming up over the treeline as the fog withdrew from the rolling meadow before me. Best of all were the people: Gail and Paul and their neighbors, their daughters, and my fellow volunteers. That summer we all felt like Gail and Paul’s brood. Nature + making myself useful + community as close as family, that’s all I need to be happy.
The meadow at Harmony Homestead Farm.
My experiences at Sadhana Forest and Squam Art Workshops the following year brought the new desire into focus: more nature, more community, plus ethical veganism, art, and handicrafts. At Sadhana Forest I helped with meal planning and prep for something like 35 to 45 people, and I became my grandmother’s granddaughter (more fully than ever before) even though the cuisine couldn’t have been more different than the lasagnas and salmon loaf of my childhood: food is one of my love languages. It’s how I love my family and friends, it’s how I love myself, and it’s how I express care and concern for people I don’t know all that well yet. And I loved the feeling of being at sleep-away camp and making beautiful things alongside new friends who had also come to make beautiful things and bask in the tranquility of Squam Lake.
I thought of how one of my grade-school friends had gone to music camp every summer; I remembered the name of the organization, so I Googled it, curious as to how much it cost. Well, I don’t know how much it was back in 1995, but in 2013 it was $8,000 for a six-week program. I started to think, wouldn’t it be great if kids (whose parents could never afford a typical sleep-away camp) could have an experience like Squam? And what about kids who didn’t have parents to come home to?
I’ve been to Squam many times now—as student, teacher, and staff—and each time it bothered me how white and upper-middle-class we were as a group. More recently, Elizabeth has done a wonderful job of highlighting and supporting the work of artists, artisans, and teachers of color, but the economic inequities remain; I’m sure many knitters would love to spend four days taking classes at a lakeside cabin but will likely never have that $1,400 to spare.
On one trip I stopped at the general store in Holderness and found a rack of greeting cards with quotes attributed to Rumi: “Live your life as if the universe is rigged in your favor…because it is.” I had a flashback to a church my family and I visited above Lake Kivu in Rwanda, where 11,000 people were murdered during the genocide. Slavery, lynchings, civilian casualties. I felt this fury any time somebody brought up the Law of Attraction. The universe is rigged in your favor: this was a message appropriated by and intended solely for privileged white women like me.
I met Rachael Rice at Squam in 2014, and I referenced her excellent blog post in Email Marketing and "Authenticity," but the message is too important not to share again here:
“Can we imagine the impact of our work beyond those who can afford it?”
Nowadays the summer camp in my mind is primarily for grownups—at least to start with—purely for logistical reasons. During quiet afternoons at the Providence Athenaeum I would dream of a library in the forest with cozy carrels where writers of all stripes and sensibilities could focus on their manuscripts. Everyone would see themselves represented on the shelves in this library. Attendees who could afford to pay for their retreat-time would subsidize those who could not; or maybe it would be a pay-what-you-can model? Filling vegan lunches packed with care, just like the ones that fueled the Bones & All revision at Hawthornden. Childcare. Hammocks and more hammocks, hammocks everywhere, and a home-sewn quilt on every bed. Writing workshops, painting and drumming workshops, workshops on foraging and herbalism and anything else people want to learn about. Safe spaces for members of marginalized communities to come together (“safe” meaning that every soul in the place understands why “no white people in this room for the next two hours” is not racist). A food forest. A swimming pool. Campfires and jam sessions. Tiny houses, perhaps—though after reading Sunaura Taylor’s wonderful book Beasts of Burden, these spaces I was dreaming of became ADA-compliant. And because white saviorism is something else I’ve been thinking about a lot, I saw myself asking, What do you actually want and need? How can I help make it happen and then leave you to use and enjoy it?
Every day—up until just a few months ago—I’d been asking myself, how the heck am I going to get from here—making next to no money off my writing at the moment, without much saved—to there, that pretty plot of acres with architectural blueprints in hand?
I’m not sure what’s shifted, exactly, I just know that I don’t need a bridge, I AM the bridge. I’ll bring this retreat into being one plank at a time. The workshops? I can make those happen now. That’s why I wanted to publish this post on the day I launch The Bright Idea Kit and finally hang my shingle as a writing coach. The course is a $200 investment and coaching is $100 an hour, perhaps a tad ironic given the vision I’ve just shared with you, but I’ve poured all of my twenty years of experience into this class and I’m feeling confident that it’s going to catalyze a lot of creative awakenings. In terms of walking my talk, I am making myself informally available for aspiring writers who can use the mentorship, and I’ll allot more bandwidth (creating an actual program, perhaps?) as I get myself sorted financially. I'll also be hosting free workshops starting later on in 2021 (first up: the power and potential of private writing!)
I see myself—white hair, liver-spotted hands—working away in one of those carrels. I am a writer. But my greater work for this lifetime is to “take up space” by holding space for others, to create a warm, welcoming retreat and inhabit it for the rest of my life without ever claiming it as mine.
If you’d like to be a part of this community (virtually for now and eventually IRL), you can join my mailing list to watch it all unfold and participate as much as you feel like. Thank you for reading this, and I wish you a healthy, joyful, and fulfilling 2021! ✨
EDIT: Adding the link to Be Seen Project founder Mindy Tsonas Choi's relevant and insightful piece from March 2021, "The Cost of Selling Belonging."
Compassionate Creativity Beta Coaching FAQ
When I announced that I'd be offering a creativity coaching beta program early next year, several lovely people replied to communicate their interest. I'm going to keep this group small so I can give you more bandwidth, and so that you guys can actively learn from and inspire each other. Here's what you can expect from this six-week program beginning Monday, January 8th:
weekly presentations followed by Q&A and informal group discussion (75-90 minutes total; if you can't attend live, you can watch the replay any time)
fun assignments to integrate each module, usually a combination of journaling exercises, worksheets, and trying something new (in or outside the kitchen)
Recipe roundups based on you and your family's preferences and needs, meal planning resources, and personalized suggested reading lists
a private Facebook group to make it easy to share questions, experiences, and resources with your cohort
Now it's time to tell you "the catch"—it's the awesomest catch ever, though. In order to participate in this six-week program, I'll ask you to commit to a vegan diet (or as close to it as you possibly can) for the duration. I experienced the most amazing boost in productivity that has continued uninterrupted since the day I went vegan (going on seven years ago), so I can tell you that adopting a more compassionate diet will enhance your creative output and outlook big time.
Got questions?
What does my diet have to do with my creativity?
Apply to the program and find out! Seriously, though, I'll explain this in my first presentation. In the meantime, read this post and watch this video of slam poet Saul Williams explaining why he required his students at Stanford to eat vegetarian for the semester.
I'm really interested in trying out a plant-based diet, but what happens if I cave and eat a slice of my mother's meatloaf? Will you kick me out of the program?
I will not. Let me tell you about my friend Teri, who set a goal of eating vegan during the week we spent at Rockywold-Deephaven Camps on Squam Lake in New Hampshire, eating three meals a day in the dining hall. At one point she articulated that she was so tempted by the macaroons on the dessert table (which were made with egg whites) she didn't think she'd be able to resist, and I said, "If it's between eating the macaroon, feeling guilty, then going back to eating meat and dairy, and eating the macaroon and returning to eating vegan at breakfast tomorrow, then go for option #2." I haven't felt a single craving for non-vegan food since I stopped eating eggs and dairy almost seven years ago, but I do understand that for many people, "weaning" oneself off animal products is the more sustainable method. I simply ask that you make a good-faith effort. I'll provide you with all the resources and support you need (unless you need official nutritional or medical advice, which I am not qualified to give you, though I can refer you to someone who is.)
Can't I just try Meatless Mondays, to start with?
I totally acknowledge that going vegan won't be as seamless a transition for everyone as it was for me. That said, it is much too easy to bolster our current habits and worldview with a framework of self-reinforcing excuses. I'm looking for a six-week good-faith commitment from you. If you embarked on a new relationship, you probably wouldn't say, "but I can date other people while you're at your bowling league on Wednesday nights, right?" If you started an exercise regimen, you wouldn't work out once or twice a week and sit on the sofa eating junk food all the other nights, would you?
If you're feeling more stressed than excited at the prospect of going plant based, then it's probably safe to say you're not ready for this. Don't worry, I will offer some version of this program again, and in the meantime, remember that every resource you could ever need is literally at your fingertips. Google "vegan 101" or "easy vegan recipes." When you throw up your hands and say "this is just too complicated," notice how you are buying into one of the narratives of mainstream carnist culture. The livestock, dairy, and pharmaceutical industries profit from you eating the same foods you always have.
This program sounds like a lot of work for you. Why is it free?
I received a vegan lifestyle coach certification back in 2013, but for the past four-plus years I've been focused on book projects. Now I'm finally ready to move into this new phase of my professional life! By participating in this beta program, you're helping me hone my content for future (paid) programs as well as a book I'm writing about veganism and creativity. Some testimonials will be nice to have, too!
I'm already vegan. Can I still participate? Yes! While this program is geared toward making veganism feel do-able for (current) omnivores by exploring the creative benefits of compassionate eating, it'll still be helpful for current vegans in terms of moving through creative blocks, creating a solid foundation for a new artistic practice, or adding another dimension to your animal-rights advocacy work. And your knowledge and insight will prove invaluable to everyone else in the program.
Want in? Look for the application link in the email update I'll be sending on Monday morning (December 11th).
Email Marketing and "Authenticity"
The notion of marketing myself and my work really squicks me out. I regularly entertain fantasies of reverting to my dumbphone, dismantling my website, and living in a cabin in the woods with a kitchen garden and a 19th-century water pump. No more social media. If you find my work, great; if not, oh well, it wasn't meant to be. I don't need to be a bestselling author, somebody with "clout"—it only matters that I'm using what I've been given in a way that feels authentic....Right?
This mindset is problematic for several reasons. First, of course, it espouses a sort of reverse-snobbery, as if every person making a living using social media has had to "sell out" for the privilege of working at home in their pajamas whenever they feel like it. Sure, lots of people have sold out. But there are also plenty of people who are using new platforms and technologies to share a useful and inspiring message, and we discount their efforts when we point only to those who are using manipulative marketing techniques to sell and up-sell their coaching packages, online courses, et cetera.
Secondly, it is very possible to skip out on undertaking one's Scary-Big Work under the guise of humility. That is essentially what I am doing when I say I don't want to collect anybody's email addresses, I don't want to network, I don't want to promote or sell something people don't want or need. Not only am I "playing small," but I am preemptively dropping out on those who could actually benefit from my experience and insight—and that includes people who haven't been born yet.
I can talk about not hiding my light under a bushel, but I'm only one of many people I poop out on when I engage in cowardice-masquerading-as-modesty. This is not the same kind of pretension you see in Facebook and Instagram ads in which entrepreneurs brag about making a six- or seven-figure income online—creating an enviable persona to get people to sign up in hopes of getting what they think you've got—but it is a pretension nonetheless.
So enough of all that. I'm giving myself permission to state my desires, loud and clear:
I want to inspire people to grow into the most fulfilled, most vibrant, most loving versions of themselves.
I want to help my students expand their capabilities: their literacy, their creativity, their compassion for all creatures.
I want to cultivate joy in the hearts of everyone I meet, in person and online.
And yes, I want to make a comfortable* living doing it—every cent exceeding "comfortable" funneled directly into hands-on philanthropic projects. As artist and creative consultant Rachael Rice writes, "Can we imagine the impact of our work beyond those who can afford it?"**
That is my dream. And to live my way into it, I'll need to use the Internet with integrity (which I already know how to do!) and without false humility (which I shall continue to work on!) So—gulp!—I've started an email list. To sign up, just click here (although there is also a neat little link at the tippy-top left corner of this page). I'll send you updates roughly once a month—with new-book news, of course, but also scrummy vegan recipes and practical advice on rejuvenating your creativity. Over time there will be an expanding emphasis on social, animal, and environmental justice projects—and if that sounds heavy, well, you can choose not to look at it that way. I believe that everything we do in this life, we must do for one (or ideally both) of the following reasons:
To be happy [provided it's not at someone else's expense; eating bacon most definitely does not qualify.]
To grow into ever-more-loving versions of ourselves [see above!]***
To clarify, this isn't the same as subscribing to blog updates (but thank you very much for signing up for those!) Newsletter content is pretty fresh, meaning that you won't find much of it elsewhere on Comet Party. I won't be reposting the recipes I share in my emails, though some of them will appear in books (!!) later on. Even more exciting, next year when I start taking on beta coaching clients (probably five max), it's the list I'll be looking to—because if I'm going to work with someone for free in exchange for critical feedback (and hopefully a testimonial), those five have to be people who already appreciate and support my work! (And you'll hear all about the aforementioned philanthropic projects when the time is right.)
Thanks so much for reading this, everyone, and big love to my brilliant friends Dr. Giavanni Washington and Joelle Renstrom for helping me through this evolution (and to Elizabeth Johnston for lighting a fire under my desk chair).
A post shared by Camille DeAngelis (@cometparty) on Aug 25, 2017 at 4:30pm PDT
* I define "comfortable" as enough to cover basic living expenses, occasional domestic and (backpacker-style) international travel for work and adventure, and regular contributions to a retirement fund (not that I see myself retiring EVER, but you never know what might happen in the future. Gotta be prepared!)
** I had my ideas (and some very rough plans) in place years before reading that blog post—inspired by my experiences in India and Vermont and at Yaddo and Hawthornden—but Rachael distills my motivations more directly than I have yet been brave enough to do.
*** After writing out these two basic reasons-for-living, it occurred to me that I have simply reformulated the Golden Rule. Yessssssss!
Squam Fall 2017
I've been home from Squam for a week and a half, but I am still totally basking in the afterglow.
A post shared by Camille DeAngelis (@cometparty) on Sep 10, 2017 at 2:26pm PDT
I was on the support staff full time this go-around, but there was time each day to go for a swim. The weather was glorious. G-L-O-R-I-O-U-S. I have never gotten to spend this much time in the lake—swimming every single day apart from the Sunday we arrived—and I felt so very lucky for that. I did indeed sleep on that screened-in porch every night; I kept thinking the temperature would plummet (when I slept outside in Vermont at the end of September 2010 I remember shivering no matter how many layers I put on), but I was perfectly snug. From my pillow I could see the moon shining through the trees, and in the morning I opened my eyes to the rising sun glimmering on the water.Pine resin sticky in my crazy cropped hair; pond scum between my toes. Bliss, I tell you. BLISSSSSSSSSSSSS.
A post shared by Camille DeAngelis (@cometparty) on Sep 18, 2017 at 5:02am PDT
This was quite possibly the most special retreat since Elizabeth first started organizing them, because she announced after dinner on Friday evening that our friend Meg Fussell would be taking over as retreat director next year. You can read more on how that decision came about on the Squam Art Workshops blog. Meg is an utterly delightful human being. She has the magic combo of organizational prowess and social finesse one would need to rock this gig, and I'm so excited to watch her put her own stamp on the retreat and continue to expand our creative community. I expected to make myself useful (this was the first time I got to drive a golf cart, but it definitely won't be the last, heh!), celebrate with friends old (as in longstanding) and new, enjoy the lake and the woods and the loons and the stars like I always do—but I did not expect to feel quite so inspired or quite so loved by people I am only just getting to know. You're going to hear a lot about my new friend Dr. Giavanni Washington in the months to come: she is an intuitive percussive healer and coach who regularly hosts sacred circles and retreats for women of color in the LA area, but her work really is for everyone. I have no doubt that we have known each other many times before, but even so, it's kind of mind-boggling how quickly someone can become one of your dearest friends.
A post shared by Camille DeAngelis (@cometparty) on Sep 19, 2017 at 9:44pm PDT
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There's a good bit more I could write—isn't there always?—but I'll just leave you with this. On Saturday night, across the road from the art fair, our friend Em Falconbridge was doing her doTERRA "oil fairy" goodness while her daughter Yindi was offering hand massages using said oils, and Giavanni set up her space for oracle card readings, all in the same warm inviting room.Yindi didn't have any "customers" yet, so I went over and asked for a massage. I told her that I used to do the same for my grandfather, and that I was definitely going to cry while she did it, and she was so sweet and kind to me. I am getting quite comfortable with crying in public, let me tell you. Afterward I asked her if she was taking tips, and she gave me this incredulous look—imagine "nooo!" said by a ten-year-old girl in the most adorable Australian accent.
It was healing, and I was grateful.
A post shared by Camille DeAngelis (@cometparty) on Sep 17, 2017 at 3:05pm PDT
Spring Squam 2017
It'd been awhile since my last Squam Art Workshops retreat: I taught a writing class there in September 2014 and daydreamed about returning as a student again for printmaking and other yummy classes, but life conspired against it. And like everyone else, I was sad when I heard 2017 would be Elizabeth's last year running the retreats—though I know very well the desire to move on from what you've already proven you're good at. 
A few weeks ago Elizabeth seemed anxious to connect, and when we got on Skype she told me her writing teacher had pulled out and could I fill in. COULD I?So I got to go to Elizabeth's last June Squam after all. My iPhone is busted and I decided not to pack Aunt Kathy's Nikon, so this post is going to be 100% other people's photographs. It was lovely not to spend the energy documenting everything. I texted a few pictures of the cabin to Matt from my dumbphone and got on with the nature worship.
I drove up with Elizabeth on Sunday and helped decorate and organize registration stuff—the most relaxing and enjoyable "work" you can imagine. Check out Elizabeth's blog recap for a nice photo of Meg and Coop, a.k.a. Team Squam Mice (Meg arranged the table above)—and here's a photo of Terri and me taken by her partner Tom at the end of my last class on Saturday morning:
It's a wrap! Camille aka @cometparty and I taught for SAW again this week. It is always inspiring to have Squamies in the house. #squamlove #squamlove2017 A post shared by Terri Dautcher (@tldautcher) on
(You may recall I took Terri's woodworking class in June 2014. Elizabeth likes to say she is an angel passing for human and I wholeheartedly agree.) 
So many fabulous memories from #squamlove2017. Incredible to see so much creative energy in motion. I loved watching the delight in my students as their blankets came together. I adored catching up with old friends and meeting and getting to know new ones. Plus, the magic of the lake ✨the best! Thanks for having me @squamlove! A post shared by Anne Weil / Maker (@flaxandtwine) on
I hadn't seen my dear friend Anne in three years, so we really reveled in getting to be roomies again—talking about our families and creative aspirations on the sun-baked dock and late into the night.
Writing on this porch, enfolded in the magic of the trees..💖 #squamlove A post shared by Jane (@sepiaandglitter) on
Both my classes were full of smart, enthusiastic, open-hearted women of all ages, teens to seventies. In theory we were writing personal essays (for a clear definition of what constitutes a personal essay as opposed to memoir, read this), but in practice each student shaped those six hours to her own ends. The mind mapping was a big hit.
No one is making me breakfast this morning. #imisssquam #lovegroupdining #squam2017 #squamlove2017 #squamlove #ineedmaplesyrupA post shared by Sue Greene (@suegreene) on
I connected with mind-blowingly talented teachers (see if you can spot me above having our last breakfast with my cabin-mates Mary Jane Mucklestone and Karen Templer), caught up with friends I made way back at my first Squam in 2011, and got ideas for future projects that absolutely light me up. More on that...eventually.
Evening lights at my cabin Cragsmere. We are all cozy. #squamartworkshops #squamlove #squamlove2017 #rdcsquam A post shared by Cordula (@handherzseele) on
My block printing!! I only cried a little while drawing. #squamlove #saw2017 #squamartworkshops Class with the beautiful @penelope_dullaghan! A post shared by Jessica MF (@jessica.mf) on
I know I keep saying I'm going to get back into blogging more frequently and consistently, but after teaching this time around I do feel more motivated—I had several conversations with similarly ambivalent bloggers ("I feel silly writing and putting it out there when it feels like nobody's reading it"), and I figured we could just make a point of reading and responding to each other's work. Community is what we come for, after all! See plenty more pics where these came from using the Instagram hashtag #squamlove2017.
Home Again, and a Bunch of Updates
Home again, after the best trip yet. My friend Joelle and I were texting regularly all through our respective trips to Iceland and Asia, and after she got home she wrote,
I'm in that phase where it kind of feels like my trip didn't really happen. There's always a struggle to live just a little differently than I did before.
I've been turning those words over ever since. After this trip I am far less of a mystery to myself. I have finally begun to understand why I feel and react the way I do in difficult situations (and in truth, how I tend to create those difficult situations). I know I'm being vague here, but I may be remedying this soon (see next paragraph). For now, I'll just say that Joe Dispenza's book Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself has more than secured a place on my (not-yet-official) list of the Most Useful and Enlightening Books I Have Ever Read. I'm looking forward to writing about exactly how and why it's helping me!
Now for Getting Specific: because Life Without Envy is on sale at the end of the month (!!), I'm doing the usual promotional thing, albeit on a scale that makes sense to me. One of LWE's essential messages is about making oneself useful, and I've been pondering how to walk my talk in ways that feel authentic and effective. Admittedly, there is a part of me who would much rather hole up and get back to writing fiction, but how can I write a book like Life Without Envy and then run away from my own advice on community building and becoming as honest as possible about one's messiest feelings?
You may recall that I posted a virtual writing workshop series on Youtube back in 2012, and I'm thinking about starting up something similar again—only with shorter (2 to 3-minute), more-to-the-point videos with frank advice on practical topics related to the book. That is one immediate way in which I can make myself useful.
I brainstormed topics. I made a list. "Success" Versus Satisfaction. Impostor Syndrome. How to Think Your Way Out of Self Loathing. (The IRONY of Self Loathing.)
Then, of course, my ego piped up. What if you post a bunch of videos and NOBODY RESPONDS, you loser? (I will say this over and over again: I wrote the book I most needed to read.)
Then I remembered something one of my new internet pals Alexis Donkin wrote in a recent newsletter:
Someone could be on the edge and read something we wrote and it sends them over. On the other hand, someone could read what we wrote and find solace, comfort, and rejuvenation. It just depends on our words - on our small actions.
That's why it's so important to choose our words and small actions carefully. That's why it's so important to be gentle – to be loving to ourselves and others.
What we say, what we write, how we act—it DOES matter. If I post a video and it turns one person's day around, then that is mission accomplished. Nobody has to go viral on Youtube in order to make the world a little bit kinder. (I actually have a specific anecdote on this topic—about overhearing a conversation in a restaurant that helped me lift myself out of a frighteningly gloomy mood—and I will share it on video.)
So yeah. I think I'm going to start a new Youtube channel, and if you have any topics you'd like me to cover (or other tips/suggestions), please let me know!
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Now for some newsy things:
The wonderful Jamaica Plain restaurant-cum-bookstore Tres Gatos is hosting the Life Without Envy launch on Sunday, October 2nd starting at 3pm. Come early for brunch (alas, they aren't the most vegan-friendly place in town, but what options they do have are excellent). And do please RSVP on Facebook!
I'm also giving an hourlong Life Without Envy workshop at the Boston Book Festival on Saturday, October 15th, 2016. We'll have space for about thirty people. I can't imagine it'll be that crowded, but come early just in case!
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And here's a quick link round-up, ICYMI on social media:
Immaculate Heart write-up in the Improper Bostonian
Life Without Envy in 18 Must-Read Nonfiction Books of September 2016 in Bustle
Why Having My Book Go Out of Print Was a Pretty Great Thing, After All in Publishers Weekly
My Intentional Writer interview with Alexis Donkin
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More soon!
Comet Party Yoga and Writing Retreat
[Update, 5/5/16: Alas, we haven't gotten the numbers we need to be able to run this retreat. If you're interested in participating the next time we try to run this thing, drop me a line!]
This is the last week to get the early-bird price ($300 instead of $350) on the first-ever Comet Party yoga and writing retreat with my dear teacher Anne Wichmann! Since I've been posting information about the retreat rather piecemeal, I thought I'd do one more post to gather all the info in one place.
When: Friday, May 20th (afternoon) to Sunday, May 22nd (afternoon), 2016
Where: Bethel Farm, Hillsborough, New Hampshire. Get psyched for long walks in the woods and the wood-fired sauna (maybe alternating with dips in the pond!)
What: Jivamukti yoga classes, meditation, and kirtan paired with intuitive writing sessions
Why: to relax, learn more about yourself, and meet lovely new people!
Meals: 100% vegan, baby! All allergies and dietary restrictions catered for (just let us know.)
Accommodation: small dorm-style with shared bath. (I know this set-up won't be for everyone, but I love the cozy summer-camp feel of the Bethel Farm guesthouse.)
Retreat schedule: here.
Transportation from Boston: we'll be organizing ride shares.
More about Jivamukti: it's an athletic yet well-rounded style of yoga, including chanting, breathwork, dharma talks, and meditation along with the asanas. I've found Jivamukti teachers to be the warmest and most giving yoga instructors I know. Oftentimes you'll get a quick warm-up shoulder massage with china gel (a menthol-based cream, very tingly and refreshing), and/or another little massage during savasana. Jivamukti teachers walk the talk when it comes to ahimsa, the principle of non-harming. Anne is a very chill and loving teacher.
More about Stephen Bethel (owner of Bethel Farm and another awesome Jivamukti teacher!) here.
What is "intuitive writing"? Good question! We'll be taking journaling to the next level with exercises designed to lift you out of your ordinary way of thinking, priming you for a transformative experience. Everything you write during this retreat is for your eyes only. You can get a sense of the type of writing exercises we'll be doing here. There's also a sneak preview of Life Without Envy in your retreat workbook!
You can register for this retreat either through Bethel Farm or by emailing me. Anne and I are so looking forward to it!
Lovefest
Last week several friends read Immaculate Heart and reached out by email, text, and social media to tell me just how much it affected them. (This is in addition to my sister and her in-laws forming a four-person book club on vacation!) I have wonderfully supportive family and friends, but I don't remember anyone calling me a "genius" before. Maybe this novel really is my best yet.
Man, @cometparty is such a genius. Holy shit. Go read Immaculate Heart right now! Go!https://t.co/Ea0kO4sPw2
— McCormick Templeman (@mtSpaceFace) April 1, 2016
I'm not posting the praise here to toot my own horn—I just want to acknowledge how much it all means to me, especially when there hasn't been much in terms of reviews or "buzz." I have smart friends and I value their opinions, and those opinions will continue to hearten me on days when I wonder how I can continue to make a sort-of-living in publishing.
How is the operative word, though—not if.
I can either reach for hitherto-unrecognized opportunities—making my own opportunities—logging even more time at the Writers' Room than I already do (and loving every minute), or I can think and act as if my disappointing sales figures will dictate my future career....Yeah, right.
Of all the gorgeous heartfelt praise I received last week, there was one piece I most needed to hear. My friend Keith texted me on Wednesday afternoon as soon as he finished the book, asking me to call him as soon as possible. We talked about who (plural) inspired my narrator, why I'd made certain narrative decisions, and his actual physical reactions as he read the closing pages. Keith said, I hope you know your own power.
And I got goosebumps.
So thank you, my friends—thank you Ailbhe, thank you Angela, thank you McCormick, thank you Susan, thank you Mackenzi, thank you Keith. Thank you, everyone, for buying my books, reading them, and talking them up to anyone who will listen. The writing may be its own reward, but the icing is the most delicious part of the cake.
Time to Regroup!
HelllllllOOOOOooooooooo!
I'm back from Ireland and getting ready for a busy couple of months. Here's a quick rundown; hopefully I'll be back to posting regularly next week (even if it's just trip photos, hah.)
Firstly, the Writers' Room of Boston spring party-slash-open-house is scheduled for this Thursday, March 10th, starting at 6pm. Details here. I don't know that any of you lovely blog readers are local enough to come out to this, but I figured I'd mention it just in case. I'll be test-baking cupcake flavor #4, which will definitely be something fruity.
What's that? You want to hear more about the cupcakes?!
Isn't it interesting how everybody says my books are delicious? BWAHAHAHAHA.
After the Immaculate Heart launch, I'll be preparing to give a presentation (Private Writing for Public Impact) and workshop (Mind Mapping for Self-Discovery) at #WhatIMake at the Aeronaut Brewery right here in Somerville on Saturday, April 16th. Details and Facebook RSVP here! (Tickets are $35 until April 1st, so if you're interested definitely buy them now. They're $45 at the door.)
Finally, registration is now open for our writing and yoga retreat at Bethel Farm! Email me to register or if you have any Qs. Anne will be leaving us Boston yogis soon after (*SOB!*) for the Big Apple, so we're going to make the weekend extra festive. $300 early bird price is good until April 15th.
The Aspirational Lightness of Being, part 3
Truth be told, I kinda forgot I even had a blog for a few weeks there. I've been busy with Life Without Envy revisions (it's in the spring 2017 catalog! eeeeeeeeee! and we almost have a cover!), redecorating my room (after my landlord painted it while I was away in Ireland and Georgia), holiday prep, and various social outings (more than usual; that time of year, I guess!) And when I did think about the blog, I remembered all the projects I have temporarily abandoned—the indie bookstore appreciation, Hinduism 101, Vegan by the Seat of Your Pants, travel recaps, and a few more besides. Blogging is no fun when you start thinking in terms of shoulds.
Well, if every other year has started with resolutions about new projects, maybe this time I'll resolve to wrap up some projects that are already on the table. For now, because of all the room redecorating, I'm still a little bit obsessed with what I'm calling aspirational minimalism—so here's a post I started writing before I left.
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Some of you lovely blog readers prefer to reply via email rather than commenting below. I received this response to a recent post about recycling my grade-school artwork:
But if you are photographing it, are you really tossing your artwork? Are you REALLY shedding that skin?
Crocheted clown dolls our cousin Ann gave our mother at my baby shower. Ann agrees they are creepy and gave me her blessing to dispose of them.
Touché, my friend. Maybe someday I will be the kind of person who burns all her old journals and lives with little more than basic cooking utensils and a few sets of clothing, but I am not there yet. (HAAAAAAAA.) I know that if I had trashed all those drawings and paintings without taking some photographs, I would already be regretting it. The main thing for me right now is to get rid of all the old stuff that is taking up physical space. I believe that domestic clutter is always a reflection of emotional and psychic clutter; and if this new mantra sounds simplistic, it really doesn't matter, because each time I get rid of a bunch of stuff I feel noticeably better about myself, noticeably lighter. So if you are beginning to suspect that there may be many more installments of this "Aspirational Lightness" business, you are probably correct.
Because my landlord was painting while I was gone, I spent a few days before I left boxing everything up and hiding it in my closet and crawl space. Ideally I would have sorted through the paper piles—yes, those notes from my NYU days are still here—but I only managed to get rid of what was obviously a waste of space and could be recycled with little effort. At first I'd bristled at Marie Kondo's declaration that NO ONE needs to hold onto ANY PIECE OF PAPER, EVER. I am a writer, you know. I write on paper. I neeeeeeeeed it!
Well, I need some of it, but only for now. Notes for current and future projects? Yes. Drafts of books that have already been published? No.
Why am I saving this? It's not just writing, of course. I'd started a file ("file" as in another paper bag, haha) called "read and recycle." Then I realized I'd been collecting these articles to read since I moved to Boston two and a half years ago, and in those two and a half years I had not gotten around to reading any of them.
Life is short, my friends. I recycled the lot.
I also got rid of a bunch of Christmas, birthday, and thank-you cards. I'd strung these up in festoons from the ceiling, which made my space feel a little like a dorm room. I took them down and recycled most of them. As for non-paper clutter, last week I finally bought myself a dresser. I'd been stacking clean clothes on a shelf in my closet, but I have to push the hanging clothes aside and reach into the dark for what I need. Not at all ideal. I got an unfinished dresser from the Bookcase Factory Outlet (not far from Porter Square) and at some point I'll finish it myself. Thanks to all the sewing I've done this year, I've found it pretty easy to "edit" my wardrobe down to the things I actually wear—but I still need a convenient place to store them. I've sorted through my fabric scraps, so I have a big bag of stuff to Freecycle. The fabric I'm keeping is folded away in a set of plastic drawers under my work table, but as you can see, I still need neater and more attractive ways of storing my art supplies (and current sewing projects and stack of mending). I'm thinking I'll cover some cardboard boxes with pretty paper.
That box at the top left is full of old notes though. My new strategy is to bring all that stuff to the Writers' Room, parcel it into manageable chunks and go through one stack at the beginning or end of each writing session. We'll see how that goes...
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And on a completely different note, I have some SUPER EXCITING NEWS...Two of my very favorite people in the whole universe are getting hitched! (Can you see the post-proposal glowiness in that picture?? I have never seen Elliot so excited!)
I actually want to write about how these two totally having their s**t together inspires me to follow suit. Yet another post to add to the 2016 to-do list. ;)
Big Announcement: Ego Management!
[Edit, 9/28/15: We have a new title! It's Life Without Envy: Ego Management for Creative People.]
I've been sitting on this top-secret project for awhile now, and I'm SO HAPPY I can finally tell you about it! Here's last week's announcement from Publishers' Marketplace:
This book started out as a guest post, "The Laughter of Sanity" (my favorite phrase from Eckhart Tolle), for Nova's blog back in February 2012. You can also see a glimmering here. The provisional subtitle is Tough Love for Creative People.
You know what they say about making lemonade out of the bitter fruit you've been handed (and a cliché is a cliché for a reason)? Going out of print turned out to be the biggest gift for me in terms of personal growth. I came out of that squirmy, frustrating-as-hell period with a firm grasp of what's truly important. Now I know I can be joyful and content with my life and work even if my novels never hit the bestseller list—that my happiness is entirely up to me. I no longer stake my sense of fulfillment and self worth on factors beyond my control.
Have I successfully managed my ego? Heck no! It's a daily process, and it will be a daily process for the rest of my life. Ego Management offers practical strategies for pulling yourself out of that mental and emotional quagmire of jealousy and frustration, not just once, but whenever you feel yourself sinking. We are only human, after all.
I feel so very blessed that I get to work on this book with my fiction editor, Sara Goodman. When you have an off-the-wall project like this you generally send the manuscript to your primary editor just as a courtesy, but in this case she really wanted to be able to publish it, so she made it happen. Again, thanks to that frustrating experience with Crown, I feel even more grateful for the enthusiasm and support I've received (and will continue to receive) from St. Martin's Press.
If you live in the Boston area and would love a sneak peek at Ego Management, get yourself a ticket for the #whatimake Conference in New Bedford on Saturday, October 17th! My presentation, "Private Writing for Public Impact," draws on several of the most crucial points I make in the book, and there'll be a complementary workshop afterward called "Mind Mapping for Self Discovery."
I can't WAIT to see this little book out into the world!
[Edit: I didn't mention a pub date because I don't have more than the roughest idea at this point—2017, realistically. I will know more after my first editorial phone call, which is hopefully happening next week.]
Retreat rescheduled: May 2016!
Hooray! Stephen, Anne and I have decided upon new dates for our yoga and writing retreat: Friday-Sunday, May 20th-22nd, 2016. Details here. Early-bird price is still $300. Email me with questions or to register!
The Aspirational Lightness of Being, part 2
(The Aspirational Lightness of Being, part 1.)
Most of the junk I have accumulated over the past thirty-four years is stored in towering stacks of Rubbermaid bins in my mother's basement. Understandably, my mumsy has been hinting for quite some time now that she would be extreeeeemely happy if I were to winnow my (90% aspirational) collections of books and kitchenware. So I put out fourteen (!) bins, boxes, and bags for Vietnam Vets, and there's still a lot left to go through.
You may have heard of this Japanese book about decluttering called The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up. It's a bestseller, and lots of journalists and bloggers are talking about it. Personal organizing is an industry unto itself, of course, but after reading Marie Kondo's book (on the plane home to New Jersey) I understand why people are so enthusiastic about it. Kondo's signature strategy is this: you're supposed to pick up the item in question (actually touch it) and ask yourself, "Does this spark joy?"
At first this seemed kind of corny. But I found that asking this simple question made the keep-or-toss conundrum incredibly easy—and the more I asked it, the more I realized that many of my possessions are still mine only because I either feel guilty about letting them go (unread books, unused gifts, my own handknit sweaters, etc.) or have just been too lazy or disorganized to dispose of them properly (like shoes I never wear anymore). Granted, the low-spark or no-spark factor is probably much higher on my possessions in New Jersey (I did leave them behind, after all), but I bet there are still a lot of things I'll want to let go of once I'm home again. (I'm still in New Jersey as I write this, so it'll be interesting to see how I view the objects in my bedroom when I get back to Boston.)
I shared The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up with my mom, and she laughed hysterically when I read the following passage aloud:
Now I realize that people who have a convenient place to send things, such as a parents' house, are actually quite unfortunate. Even if the house is large with rooms to spare, it is not some infinitely expanding fourth dimension...
(The mother of the client in question came to Marie afterward for help in dealing with her daughter's junk!)
Here are a few more tidbits that really resonated for me:
My basic principle for sorting papers is to throw them all away. Corollary: When you attend a seminar, do so with the resolve to part with every handout distributed. If you regret recycling it, take the same seminar again, and this time apply the learning. It's paradoxical, but I believe that precisely because we hang on to such materials, we fail to put what we learn into practice.
On demoting tired clothing to "loungewear": ...[I]t doesn't seem right to keep clothes we don't enjoy for relaxing around the house. This time at home is still a precious part of living. Its value should not change just because nobody sees us...What you wear in the house does impact your self-image.
When you come across something that you cannot part with, think carefully about its true purpose in your life. You'll be surprised at how many of the things you possess have already fulfilled their role.
On regretting throwing something out: Life becomes far easier once you know that things will still work out even if you are lacking something.
Human beings can only truly cherish a limited number of things at one time.
By handling each sentimental item and deciding what to discard, you process your past.
That last one is why I need to get rid of about 85% of my possessions: you gotta release everything that's over and done with to make space for all the exciting new stuff that's waiting to come into your life:
Mary Modern drafts? Destined for the recycling bin. (There are plenty more novels to write.)
Bulging portfolio of grade-school and high-school artwork? Recycled or trashed—ALL of it!—because I don't need proof that I could have been an artist. (What sort of artist would I like to grow into now?)
Pressed roses given to me by a very sweet young man on my 17th birthday? I scattered them in the woods behind the backyard fence. (Hello, love!)
As Marie Kondo writes, The space in which we live should be for the person we are becoming now, not for the person we were in the past. When you put it that way, I can actually get excited about cleaning out my closet.
Retreat announcement
Just a quick note to let you know that Anne and I have decided to postpone our writing and yoga retreat until next spring, when the timing will hopefully work better for most people's schedules. Thank you so very much to everyone who expressed interest in coming (and especially to those of you who signed up!) We're looking forward to making this magical weekend with you on the far side of winter.
And if you are still interested in coming and want to give me some rescheduling input, that would be great. I'm thinking Memorial Day weekend might be a good time. What do you think?
Writing + Yoga Retreat Schedule!
[Edit: This retreat has been rescheduled for May 20th-22nd, 2016. Details here.]
As promised, here's our plan for the retreat weekend. I don't want to tell you too much about the writing modules, since in some instances the unexpectedness makes the exercise more effective. I will say that the writing and yoga classes will be thematically linked, which is going to be really fun!
Friday
Snacks and introductions.
Setting our intentions for the weekend.
First writing exercise!
Dinner
Restorative Yoga practice & meditation.
Saturday
Morning Yoga practice
(Snack!)
Writing session, including a mind-mapping demonstration
Brunch
Writing session using symbols & archetypes
Free time (sauna, hike, etc.)
Dinner
Evening Kirtan & meditation.
Sunday
Morning Yoga practice
Brunch
Writing session on relationships & community
Final writing exercise and reflection
Thankfulness meditation in closing.
Drop me a line with any questions. Early-bird discount ($300 instead of $350) is good through April 15th!