Jessica Wildfire's Blog, page 413

Racism was/is commonplace in my family.

Racism was/is commonplace in my family. They acted one way in public, quite another at family gatherings. I stopped talking to most of my relatives because they asked me questions like, “Are your black students causing problems?” I just realized that if I was going to purge the racist/Nazi ideologies in myself, I couldn’t excuse it other people.

Yep! I think I truly started to understand how to treat editors when I started serving as one here…

Yep! I think I truly started to understand how to treat editors when I started serving as one here and there. It’s a tough, thankless job. On rare occasions when I feel like an editor is screwing up, I just withdraw the piece. If I hear bad things about a journal, then I just don’t submit to that one. No drama.

Patience: the secret ingredient of success

Nobody exactly wants to be patient. It’s the hardest virtue to master. An act of patience means not doing something — like emailing that editor for an update on your article, or hitting refresh on your email over and over. Or stalking your social media stats.

Some of the most miserable times in my life have involved waiting. For a decision on a story. For a job offer. (Or rejection.) For a judge to announce the winner of a contest. And so on.

One time I had to drive 8 hours to a conference on the same day that an editor was supposed to send me the final decision on a manuscript. I pulled off at almost every rest stop to check email on my phone. My impatience added more than an hour to my trip.

Hey, at least I didn’t try to check email while driving.

This anecdote has a happy ending. A few days later, the editor did email me an acceptance. That article has done wonders for my career. The work I put into it counted. All the stress worrying after my submission? Pointless.

Who teaches patience?

You’ll find loads of advice on how to write your novel. How to craft a viral blog post. How to build your network.

But what about after you’ve done that?

You’ve gone to the conference. You’ve networked. You’ve written your 500–1,000 words for the day. You’ve read 2–3 articles. You’ve tweeted. You’ve exercised. You went on a date.

But now it’s midnight. You’re tired. It feels like all that hard work hasn’t paid off yet. Not like it should.

If you’re like me, you feel a constant need to do more. Answer more emails. Write another 500 words. Send out more submissions. Email that one editor who hasn’t responded to your piece yet. Follow up with that literary agent who promised to read your book in six weeks. Well, it’s been eight and still nothing…. bastard …

Late in my 20s, I realized that all my extra pestering and prodding and worrying did absolutely nothing to help my success.

Writing more than 1,000 words a day didn’t mean I got my novel or article done faster. It just burned me out.

Poking editors and agents just irritated them. It made them more likely to reject my work.

Updating my blog twice a day just wore out my readers.

Cultivate patience by slowing down

Over the past year, I’ve learned to slow down a little bit. You don’t have to blast away at life full speed. Sure, sometimes you have to hustle. You have to put in extra hours to send out all those job applications. You have to work when you’re tired. But sometimes you also need to chill.

If you don’t relax, you’re going to hurt yourself. Your brain needs down time. You can’t work 14 hours a day for seven days a week. People who do that are just flushing their energy down the toilet.

More importantly, people need a break from you. People who want all of their success instantly are exhausting. I know, because I’m one of them.

Forcing myself to slow down a little has worked well for me. I’m already clocked faster than the average person. So what feels like an average day of work blows some people’s minds.

That means I have to pay more attention to norms. When I feel overworked, that means I’m exhausting everyone else around me and making them miserable.

I’ve learned how to spot when I’m getting burned out. Normally, ideas for stories come with ease. Sometimes I have to think for a while — while running errands or tending to my day job. But if I have to sit and think for 20 minutes just to get an idea going, that means I should relax or go do some laundry. Sure, it’s productive — but in a self-focused way.

Success builds over time, not overnight

After my first novel came out, I immediately jumped into writing a second one. Some of my friends told me to. “Capitalize on the success of your first book!” I completely agreed. So on top of a book tour, and teaching four classes, I locked myself away for 2 hours every night to crank out a new manuscript as fast as I could.

You can guess how that turned out. Yeah, I finished a new manuscript in about three months. But it was utter crap. For starters, my main characters took a nap almost every chapter. Because I was exhausted, my characters became dull and sleepy. They often talked about how confused and drained they felt. Because that’s how I felt.

I was trying to write a mystery novel. But I wound up writing a snoozer.

Not because I was a bad writer. But because I was rushing. In hindsight, I should’ve slowed down and enjoyed my book tour. I should’ve at least let myself unwind after a tough week of teaching. But no. I was hellbent on success.

Authors take decades to build up a readership and a body of work. I was trying to do all that before I turned 30.

My first book probably didn’t do as well as it could’ve. Why? Because I didn’t look relaxed or happy at my signings. I was forcing myself to work constantly. And if you don’t look happy, people pick up on that.

I’ve learned that the biggest source of anxiety in my life is….me. I do it to myself by fretting over things completely outside of my control. By pushing myself to do more and more.

There’s nothing wrong with ambition. Or drive. But at some point, you have to identify a point of diminishing returns. Everyone has a different set of standards. Find yours and stand by it.

Do what you need to attain your goals. And then chill. Realize when you’ve done enough for one day, and let yourself actually enjoy life for a few minutes. Success accumulates gradually, and it doesn’t vanish overnight.

Related RecommendsWhat Star Wars Can Teach Us About the Value of Setting GoalsBe Careful About Success — You’ll Get It Eventually

The fellowship grows!

The fellowship grows!

Comedic gold right here. :D

Comedic gold right here. :D

You nailed it.

You nailed it. The first step of success is figuring out what you *actually* want and how to get it. Somewhere after that comes a helluva lot of patience, too. ;)

“Happy birthday, son. Here’s some mud. Now go play.” :D

“Happy birthday, son. Here’s some mud. Now go play.” :D

Absolutely, keep making those naughty jokes!

Absolutely, keep making those naughty jokes!

Wise old man at a bus stop? Hey, wisdom comes from stranger places sometimes. ;)

Wise old man at a bus stop? Hey, wisdom comes from stranger places sometimes. ;)

Your wedding doesn’t matter that much

Image Source: Elina-Lava

My wedding happened a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. I know it did. We have photographic evidence to the tune of $2,000.00. (I’m told that’s cheap.) There’s a dress hanging in the closet, and a piece of paper with a stamp on it.

But I’ll be honest, my wedding doesn’t feel like the most important day of my life. We danced and sliced up a cake. If I could’ve skipped it, I would’ve. Just like I skipped every graduation since high school. Our culture has too many ceremonies. We need to chill.

Even my proposal didn’t need a bunch of fireworks. It wasn’t filmed or photographed. He didn’t get down on one knee. We’re both practical adults. A little jaded and roughed over. We just had an evolving conversation. Then one day he showed me a ring and said, “Do you want to get married?”

I smiled and said, “Yeah.”

And then we had sex to celebrate.

I’m not saying ditch weddings altogether. But they just don’t matter that much to some people. That doesn’t make you a bad spouse. A small wedding doesn’t doom your marriage. In fact, I’ve read that bigger weddings have a higher divorce rate. Go figure.

Here’s the big secret: Maybe I’m wrong, but it looks like the people who dread their weddings are the ones who stay married the longest.

That makes sense. You’re looking forward to the rest of your life with your partner. All that expensive planning is just stress and a bill.

And yet, somewhere in America there’s a bride-to-be freaking out about her dress — right this second. A groom’s mulling over the prospect of his bachelor party as the last chance he’ll ever get to visit a strip club.

Now, that’s a laugh.

My wedding was essentially uneventful. What do I remember far better? The honeymoon. Specifically, the bed. I remember a hotel clerk walking in on us and apologizing profusely. And I remember the hot tub in our bathroom. A very nice touch.

Sure, I remember parts of my wedding. Like the photographer wouldn’t give up on making me smile. “A little wider,” he kept saying. “A little bigger.” Some happy people just don’t show it in their lips.

But that looks bad in pictures. So you have to fake it. Convincingly.

Wedding planning takes on an entirely different feel when you don’t try and live up to reality television. We both had jobs. And not much cash. And even less time. Imagine planning a wedding on the tenure track. Also imagine that you and your spouse live in one state. The rest of your family and friends live in another. And they aren’t going to fly to you, so….

Luckily, wedding planners exist. We were a wedding planner’s dream come true. We had two meetings. Maybe a third one. We always gave our wedding planner the same answer when she called or emailed about details: “What’s cheapest? Okay, do that.” I think we even hired someone to send out our invitations. We just uploaded a spreadsheet to a website and then got back to the incredibly fun life of pre-tenure academics.

Some of you have followed me for a few months now. You’re thinking, “She’s married? What?!”

But that’s the thing. Like your wedding, your marriage doesn’t define you. Sometimes I forget I’m married.

Some people might think that’s terrible. But consider most natural processes. Walking. Blinking. Breathing. We don’t give that a second thought. Because we do it all the time. So if you do your marriage all the time, then you probably won’t think about it as a “marriage.”

Some of you also might think, “But you’re so open and flirty online.” So you get married, and suddenly you have to gain 10 pounds and stop taking any pride in your sexuality whatsoever?

Not gonna happen.

Some of my college friends tried to push all the tired stereotypes on us after the wedding. They guilt-tripped us for having our own friends, our own social gatherings, our own hobbies. One of them even tried to shame us for playing computer games on the weekends.

We do plenty of things together. Exercise. Meals (sometimes.) Sex. We watch some of the same TV shows. But we also have our own. I know, shocker. We might eat dinner at different times because we have different work schedules. Sometimes I get hungry before he does, and vice versa.

Imagine a truly happy marriage in which either spouse can eat whenever they want. Blasphemy, or common sense?

Sometimes, we even sleep apart. Not because I hate my partner. Or our marriage is a sham. No. Because I’m the lightest sleeper on earth. Someone rolling over in bed has a 70 percent chance of waking me up.

Marriage isn’t worth the effort if you don’t do it on your own terms. Don’t live someone else’s marital expectations. Come up with your own. A different type of marriage exists for every different type of couple. The fact that we expect millions of people to plan the same kind of wedding and live the same kind of married life is utter nonsense.

You might have a wife or husband. A home in the burbs. A kid. All that might look like conformity. But it doesn’t have to be.

How your marriage operates. What you do in your home. How you raise your kid. That’s all you. And you can do it your way.

We don’t go to church, for starters. Our kid probably won’t. He’ll stay home and build models. Or mess around with a science kit. Or paint. Or whatever he wants. Our offspring will conform to expectations no more than we did.

Not everyone needs to know everything about my personal life. Until now, I never felt like writing about weddings or marriage. I don’t wake up every morning and think, “What does a married person wear?” I didn’t throw out all my clothes and buy special married ones. My daily habits didn’t change all that much. Neither did his.

Maybe I forget my marriage. But I never forget my partner. Weddings aside, most of my happiest memories reference him in some way. Mainly because he was there. Some people place so much importance on the idea of their marriage, like it’s some living thing.

No, the marriage doesn’t live or die. Marriage is a word. Focus on your partner. That’s a real, breathing entity to touch.

And if some day that person becomes unbearable, or stops making you happy, then separate from them.

Trust me, your kids will thank you.

My parents valued their marriage way more than each other. Or me. They fought constantly. My mom started most of the arguments. She pushed my dad. Cussed him out savagely. Broke dishes over his head.

Our family was one of those rare cases of domestic violence where the wife and mom instigates the violence. My dad only called the police in the most dire circumstances, when she started going after the kids.

Me? I begged my dad to file for divorce. Neither me nor my brother wanted to live with our mom. We wanted him. But my dad wouldn’t do it. He didn’t want us to think we came from a broken home.

But our home was worse than broken. It was poisoned. Gangrenous. A broken limb can mend. But a rotting one has to go. Instead of chopping off the infected leg, he let the idea of marriage tell him what to do.

The stereotypical wedding vows sell us on a very naive notion of life. In sickness and in health? Those vows were written by someone who’s never dealt with substance abuse or violent mental illness. What if your spouse becomes sick in a way that’s not just a burden to you, but threatens your life and your kids? You should divorce.

My dad could’ve divorced my mom and still cared for her. He could’ve continued trying to help her with therapy and meds. He could’ve given her money. Simply removing her from our household would’ve made everyone’s lives far better. Even my mom’s.

Marriage means little without real actions to back it up. A marriage doesn’t change your loyalties. It’s not a guarantee of much. It doesn’t alter your behavior when you love someone, and decide to make a life with them. Me and mine? The formalities almost came as an afterthought. Sure, an expensive one that we paid for ourselves. It was kind of like throwing a big party for all of our friends.

After that, we relaxed. Our married life doesn’t differ that much from our single life. We’d both tired of the party scene. We had careers.

If I have one regret, it was not pushing harder for an elopement. But whatever. In the big scheme, that’s a small one.

Marriage is an overrated concept. We’ll still use words like “wedding” and “anniversary” for centuries to come, I’m sure. But they’re already starting to mean very different things. People are wising up. For starters, we see now that marriage has never stopped an asshole from cheating, or worse. Like Taylor Swift said, cheaters gonna cheat cheat cheat.