Janel Brubaker's Blog, page 10

Getting As and Completing Manuscripts

Well, I’ve gotten the grades back for my final papers of the semester.

For one class, we were given the text we would write a research paper on, but we could choose what we wanted our thesis to be. When I sent my teacher my thesis proposal earlier in the semester, she said she didn’t think I could support the thesis. I’m thinking now that I probably didn’t explain my thesis very well because I was confused by her feedback, but I wasn’t going to try and come up with a new thesis. Especially when my research was cumulating a lot of really good information that supported my thesis. I decided to plow ahead and write the paper, knowing that my professor didn’t think it was a thesis I could defend.

I got an A+ and a perfect score on my paper. My professor said it was a superb paper and that I articulated my argument, and supported it, splendidly.

To say I felt vindicated is an understatement. I don’t claim to be an academic prodigy, but I’ve written a lot of research papers in my life, and I’m really good at it. Plus, I love research. Like, to the point that it thrills me. So I know that I can take a relatively blah thesis statement and turn it into an interesting and well written paper. It’s just one of the things I excel at. And I’m glad I trusted my instincts because I really thought I was gonna bomb that paper, and instead I crushed it.

On my second paper, I got a 96%. It was far more of an opinion piece since it relied on a lot of my personal experiences with purity culture. And while my other teacher liked the personal narrative within the paper, she did say that I didn’t quite connect my subject with the book I was writing my paper on as strongly as she would have liked. And granted, that was a really hard part of that assignment. The book itself was hard to read in that it brought up a lot of issues regarding gender roles and the way feminine desire is often portrayed in fiction (especially by male authors), and this made the paper difficult to sit with for long periods of time. I think I probably rushed some sections because I don’t like taking my psyche back to my evangelical days.

But, I still got an A, and the professor said that she agreed with all of my assertions about the text, and that the paper was still very powerful. That also felt really good.

And now that I’m on winter break, I’m pretty much obsessed with doing absolutely nothing. I mean, besides work and writing and chores. I can’t even believe it, but I only have one more chapter to write before I complete the fourth draft of my novel. Like, holy shit. My manuscript is already 104,000 words(ish), and I have at least three more scenes to write. And then another round of revisions to go through before I send out the manuscript to beta readers.

I’ve never, ever, gotten this far on the writing and revising of a novel. I’ve only ever drafted the previous novels I’ve written. Those projects were abandoned, which sucks, but they also laid the ground work for this book, and it will be the first one that I take all the way to publication. And then, the sequel will be next. I’m so excited to start that book!

There’s only a few days left in 2022, and I am going to make them count in the ways that are best for me.

Happy Holidays. Here’s to the coming year!

Winter Wonderland

Last night we were supposed to get snow, but we primarily got sleet, and then some snow in the middle of the night. We have a little less than an inch of white on the ground. Our puppy, Kiki, absolutely loves it. She’s a year and a half old corgi and she loves playing fetch outside in the snow. One if the most glorious and beautiful things to watch is her in the snow. She loves it. It energizes her. If you think that she loves playing fetch on a non-snow day, wait until you see her in the snow.

I am sad that we haven’t seen any big snowflakes, which is one of my favorite things in the world. As much as I don’t like being cold, I have always loved the snow. My first winter in Oregon, we had a huge snowstorm with over six inches of snow for several days in a row. I remember playing in the snow with my family. It’s one of my favorite childhood memories. I fell in love with the beauty of winter in the Pacific Northwest that year and that love has only gotten stronger. I would honestly love to have more snow every year than we do.

I look out my bedroom window and see things covered in this beautiful white dusting, and it fills me with a sense of otherworldly beauty. At least half of my debut novel takes place during the winter and seeing even this little bit of snow on the ground makes me feel (almost) like I’m one of my characters. I’m not an assassin making my way through a haunted forest, but I am a woman making my way through the end of this year, carrying the goals and ambitions I currently have into the coming year. And, at least for today, I get to watch the beautiful snow outside. I am hoping to get some snowflakes later, but it’s not looking like I will.

On this almost-Christmas-Eve, I just wanted to wish everyone a beautiful holiday.

It’s Cold Outside

Started the morning by waking up to a blistering wind and low temperatures for the second day of winter. Power was out at the office, so I made my way back home. Heaters are on in our condo. I’m wearing layers and sipping hot coffee. I’m about to make a delicious breakfast of steak and eggs. And I am officially done with fall semester, having turned in my final research papers earlier this week.

I am one who does not like extreme weather of any variety, cold or hot. But at least with the cold, I can bundle up and wrap myself in blankets and hunker in bed. I love to be cozy. I think it is one of my favorite things. Usually, it means the pets are cold and want to snuggle too, so that just makes it all the cozier. And since there are only 9 days left in the year, I thought I’d use this very cold morning to think back over all that’s happened in 2022.

In December of 2021, my debut collection of poetry was accepted for publication.
In January of 2022, I started my M.A. in Literature online.
In January of 2022, my publisher started working on editing my cohort’s manuscripts for the forthcoming publication.
In February-ish of 2022, I left my job as a Project Coordinator and accepted a position as an Assistant Project Manager.
In March-ish of 2022, I was laid off from the Assistant Project Manager position.
In March of 2022, I began the rough draft of what would become the manuscript for my debut novel.
In April of 2022, I returned to my former place of employment, but instead of being a Project Coordinator, I was hired as an electrical designer.
In June of 2022, I started my second semester of my online M.A. in Literature.
In September of 2022, my debut collection of poetry, EVEN THE AIR, TOO HEAVY, was published by First Matter Press.
In September of 2022, I started my third semester of my online M.A. in Literature.
In October of 2022, I turned 34.
In October of 2022, I started what has become the fourth draft of my debut novel.
In October of 2022, I gave my first, ever, public reading from my newly published collection of poetry.
In November of 2022, I started marketing for my debut novel, A KISS OF GLASS.
In December of 2022, I will complete the fourth draft of my debut novel.

I mean, just look at that. And it’s not that this is anything extraordinary. Plenty of other writers, workers, and students accomplish even more in this amount of time. But for me, this was a huge year of ups and downs, and I still managed to accomplish so much. From switching jobs and losing jobs to starting a new online graduate degree to publishing a whole ass collection of poetry and writing a whole ass novel, there is so much here, so much ranging from exciting to heartbreaking. And the one thing that has made all of this consistent has been my writing.

The life of a writer is one of uncertainty. You never really know if the work you’ve put in is going to lead to a book and publication, or if it will end up being an experience of learning. You never know if the motivation and excitement you have about a project is going to last, or if you’ll have to drudge through it. You never know what changes might be made to the industry that could potentially fuck up all of your plans. But the one thing that is consistent, the one thing we can control, is our own writing and how we approach it.

So even though it’s extremely cold today and I’m shivering despite the layers and the heater being on, I am proud of what I have accomplished this year. I’m excited to see where 2023 takes me. I don’t usually make new year’s resolutions, but the one thing I am setting for myself is a goal to read more than I did this year, and to write more than I did this year. I read 71 books this year (so far) and I wrote nearly 100,000 words. Hopefully next year is even more productive and pushes me well beyond my expectations. Because it isn’t about competing with other writers. It’s about competing with myself, finding new ways to challenge my creativity.

Here’s to the coming year.

11 Days Left in 2022

I have 11 days to finish writing the fourth draft of my debut novel, and only two chapters left to complete. I think I’m actually going to make this deadline!

I had an awesome opportunity open up for me at my school where I’m currently getting my M.A. in Literature. It was for a part time English tutor position. I’ve done tutoring before and absolutely loved it, so I was initially excited and energized by this opportunity. Moreover, this isn’t something you can just apply to; you have to be nominated by a professor, and I was nominated by two of mine. I made the interview appointment.

But ultimately, I decided it would be stretching myself way too thin. I work 40 hours a week in my office job. I’m also a full time student which takes up about 25-30 hours of work every week, and I’m writing a novel that I’m hoping to release by June of next year, which takes an enormous amount of time. Being an indie author is, essentially, its own full time job. So I cancelled my interview and thanked the professors. As awesome as it would be to earn an extra $20/hr to tutor students, my primary focus right now is my writing and I cannot let anything get in the way of those goals.

Because honestly, the thing I have wanted to do more than anything else in my life is write, and I’ve wanted this since I was a child. I have a book of poetry published, and I cannot begin to describe how incredible it is to even say that. And now I can see the silhouette of my novel looming in the distance. It’s not a mirage anymore, it’s an actual, tangible thing that I am actively moving toward. It’s going to happen next year and I am so excited.

This is a short updated, but I wanted to say hello and connect with you all, the ones who read my posts. Thank you for following and keep a lookout for more updates concerning the release of my novel!

More Lessons from an Indie Author

My novel is now over 92,000 words.

I completed my last out of state trip for work last week, so I’m hoping that now I can settle back into a normal writing routine. Driving is exhausting, especially when it’s for 3 hours one way once a week for six weeks. The toll it takes…I was not prepared for that. But the traveling should be over for now, and that means I can get myself back on track with my debut novel.

One thing I’ve been doing is researching what indie authors can do to help themselves be more successful, and the primary thing — outside of the writing process itself — is marketing. I’ve written on this before, but it bears repeating that marketing really does make or break the release of a novel. Based on what I’ve read, there are a few different reasons for that. One is that the traditional publishing industry is going through an enormous shift right now. That means that a lot more writers are choosing to either publish with a smaller press, or they independently publish their work. In either case, this puts a lot more responsibility on the writer to market and publicize the release of their work.

This also means that the writer is responsible for creating the content that they will be using to market their work, and this takes up a lot of time and energy. You might have noticed that the release date on the side of my blog has changed several times, and this is due to the fact that I’ve realized I will need more time to market my book than I was originally giving myself. The harsh truth is that is doesn’t really matter how well written my novel is, if it’s not getting seen by the people who read the same genre as I’m writing in, then I won’t sell any copies. Building up anticipation for the release of my book will ensure that when it’s published, there will be people already waiting to buy it.

This also means that I have to brainstorm how to market this book. Twitter, TikTok, Facebook, newsletters…these are the things I’ve seen that can boost the potential sales of a book. Especially as one who is choosing to independently publish, all of this responsibility falls to me. Some writers can afford to pay a publicist to create content for them, but I can’t. A harsh truth about independently publishing is that it costs money. Paying for ads, paying for a cover to be designed, paying a professional editor, paying for concept art, paying for the internal design of the book once it’s ready to go to press…these are all costs that independent writers take on. It, quite literally, is a business on its own.

So, I’m giving myself more time and space to figure these things out before I attempt to release my book. I’m only a few chapters away from finishing my fourth draft, and once it’s complete, I’ll need to revise it once or twice more before proofreading. The manuscript isn’t quite where it needs to be yet, so the extra time will be helpful for that, as well as for getting myself out there to market it.

I’ll keep you updated as the weeks go by.

End of Semester, End of NaNoWriMo

Well, in a very loose sense, I completed my NaNoWriMo goal. I added about 30,000 words to my novel’s manuscript. I did not, however, reach the 50,000 word goal which, as I have continued to add to my novel, I can see I probably would have come pretty close if I had written every day. My novel is currently at just over 90,000 words, and while some of this might be edited down, most of it will remain. Fantasy books are often 100,000 words or more, so this is on par with the genre.

It’s interesting, seeing how the writing process changes at different points in the drafting phase. Even though I’m on the fourth draft of this manuscript, I am still adding chapters and going through with heavy revisions on others. I currently have about five chapters that need to be either written or heavily revised before this draft is complete, and I swear to god, these last chapters are proving much more difficult to write than the rest of the novel combined. I don’t know what it is about ending this book, but it is getting under my skin. That’s not a bad thing, but it does mean that I struggle more to get the words onto the page.

Still, I’m on track to complete this draft by December 15. At that point, I’ll send it off to my beta readers and focus in on the chapters and scenes that need the most revision. Hopefully I’ll have those revisions done by the time I hear back from my beta readers, and can then begin my sixth draft which will be my first line-by-line edit. Descriptions, imagery, word choice — these are the things I will focus on extensively in the sixth draft, and should give the manuscript a more polished feeling. Though I’m not sure it will ever feel “done” to me.

I’m debating on whether or not to push back the publication date. I feel like, once my first line-by-line edit is done, I’ll need to take at least two weeks away from it before doing another line-by-line edit. Regardless, the book will be published next year before May, which I still cannot believe. Then, I’ll be working more consistently on the sequel. Hopefully, by next November, I’ll be ready to draft the third book in the trilogy for NaNoWriMo 2023. But, we’ll see.

It’s also the end of the semester which means I’m working on two different research papers. One is for my magical realism class and the other is for my working women’s class. It’s been an interesting semester. I’ve enjoyed my classes and the books we’ve read. I’m not going to lie, I’m looking forward to winter break. And I’m excited that I’m nearly done with my second masters. I doubt that I will get another degree after this one. I’m ready to let my life get consumed by the books and writing assignments I most want to read and write. If I’m going to be anywhere near as prolific of a writer as I hope to be, I’ll need all the extra time I can get. Although I will say, working full time, being in school full time, having my debut book of poetry published, reading 75 books, and writing a whole ass novel all in one year — fucking hell, I’m unstoppable. If I can do all of this in one year, just imagine how much more I’ll get done when I’m out of school!

I really, really love how my life is going. I have been stressed for the last several weeks because work has taken me up to Seattle every week for the last six weeks, and the drive is exhausting and I hate being away from home. The exhaustion has meant my mental health isn’t the greatest, but I’m doing what I can every day to help take care of myself. My partner and I have a truly loving, caring, supportive relationship and I love him more and more every single day. I’m doing this writing thing. I’m actually sitting down and making it happen. I’ve never gotten a novel into a fourth draft before, and I still can’t believe I’ve done it now. I’m 34.

Life isn’t perfect. The continued targeting of LGBTQIAP2S+ communities is heartbreaking and makes me genuinely afraid for my personal safety. The systemic racism that runs rampant through every part of our country, the negative impacts of climate change, the absurd prices of rent, the skyrocketing prices of healthcare, medications, and other medical costs, the homelessness and poverty crises, and the unwillingness of our supposed progressive government to actually resolve these issues, weighs on me every single day, as I’m sure it does a lot of us. Sometimes it’s overwhelming. Even debilitating.

But there is beauty, too.

This weekend I saw that an adult I knew when I was a teenager in church came out as a lesbian. Her wife is a trans woman. And it fills my heart with love and joy and excitement and determination and resilience to see people embracing their true selves, living an authentic life, and spreading love and light in the world. Because even though there is a lot of hate and darkness around us, we are filled with love and light, and that is stronger and brighter than any darkness. In Brooklyn 99 after Rosa comes out as bi, Captain Holt says, “Whenever someone is honest and open about who they are, the world becomes a better, more interesting place.” It’s so true, and I revel in that.

Let’s spread love today.

The NaNoWriMo Complication

Here’s the deal: NaNoWriMo is meant to be a motivational program for writers who want to write a novel to sit down with a specific word count goal to reach in thirty days, and the accountability of reaching those word goals by putting them into a word-count tracker online. The basic word count goal is 50,000 words in thirty days, which comes out to about 1,667 words per day.

My novel manuscript was already 50,000ish words before NaNoWriMo started, so I wasn’t really planning on adding another 50,000 to it. However, I’m currently on chapter 14 of 21, and I’ve added almost 11,000 new words to the manuscript. And since this week is only a 3-day work week, I imagine I will probably get another 10,000ish added to it before the week is over. More than a specific word count, though, my goal for NaNoWriMo is to complete the fourth draft of this manuscript so I can send it out to my beta readers and get some feedback on what still needs revision.

I have to say, as rough as parts of this manuscript still are, I am thoroughly in love with this manuscript. I’ve never had that with a full-length work of my own fiction before. It’s one thing to see the potential in a manuscript, and it’s something else entirely to see that potential starting to come out and manifest onto the page. And the more I add to this book, the more I see glimpses into the rest of the trilogy. I have the bulk of the sequel already outlined, which is extremely exciting, and I know who the primary antagonist is in this trilogy. If I can keep to my general writing schedule, books one and two of this trilogy will be written, revised, edited, and published before this time next year.

Once I’ve completed my second masters, I can only imagine how much more time and energy I’ll have for writing. My goal is still to write and publish two books each year. If I can fit more into that time frame, so much the better, but I’d rather produce quality work than just crank out drafts that are mediocre. It’s astonishing to me how prolific writers can be in this kind of intense, creative frame of mind all the time. It’s just…exhausting at times, and even when I’m enjoying the process and I’m churning out thousands of words at a time, can also be frustrating and annoying and fun simultaneously.

But I am grateful for the existence of NaNoWriMo to keep me somewhat ordered and focused on the creative projects at hand. I know that I will, at some point, take time away from fiction to really dig into my second book of poetry. Maybe that will be when I’ve completed this trilogy? At any rate, it feels good to keep the writing going. Whether I sell any copies or not, whether I make any money or not, this is exactly what I was and am meant to do with my life, and I’m doing it. Actively. Devotedly.

It is complicated and even difficult at times, but it is also necessary and part of my process.

Starting My Second Book of Poetry

I didn’t anticipate that I would start this book of poetry quite so soon, but while I was on break one day at work, an idea came to me and I started to write. Before I knew it, I had the makings of a poem. Since that day I’ve written three or four other poems of the same theme, and so I can say with confidence that my second book of poetry is officially in the drafting stage.

It will be interesting to see how the process of writing this book goes. My first book was the creative thesis for my M.F.A., so while it went through several different variations, I was given consistent feedback on it by my faculty mentors and fellow students in workshop. I don’t have that now. I can send poems or the whole manuscript to friends for feedback, but I won’t have a faculty mentor to tell me when an image isn’t working, or to give me ideas for letting the imagery really come alive.

However, one thing I have now that I didn’t have then is a lot more confidence in my ability to write and revise my poetry. I’ve already done that with my first book, so I know what that looks like in terms of my own practice. And while I do intend to keep writing these poems, my primary focus right now is on my first novel, so I don’t intend to abandon that project for the sake of this one. I still need to figure out how I’m going to space them both out, keeping them both going even if my attention is primarily focused on fiction at the moment, but that’s a task for another day.

One thing I’ve noticed about this second book already is that I am simply not ready to dive into the subject matter as heavily or as thoroughly as I did with my first. I think part of that is due to the fact that, emotionally and mentally, I had already healed a lot from my miscarriages, which is what my first book of poetry is about, and so the writing about them very much added to the healing process. Whereas with the deconstruction of my faith, that process is still ongoing and, in many ways, still in its beginning stages. I don’t want to trigger any further religious trauma by rushing too quickly into this second book of poetry. Sometimes we’re simply not ready to write about an experience, and that’s okay.

So today as I’m sipping my English Breakfast tea and preparing to start my reading for the week, I’m allowing myself space to feel the contradictions of desire. I want to get into the gritty details of my deconstruction of my faith, but I also want to preserve a sense of peacefulness over my mental and emotional health. I will read The Hobbit, a book where the main character also feels contradictions of desire – he wants the safety and warmth of his home, but he also wants the intrigue and excitement of adventure – and I will read for school and I will get as much written in my novel as I can before the end of NaNoWriMo, and I will let whatever poems come to me in their own time.

Sometimes writing is like faith: we have to trust in the parts of ourselves we cannot see.

Nominations and Other Wins

Well, I genuinely never thought this would happen in my life, but my debut book of poetry, Even the Air, Too Heavy, has been nominated for the Firecracker Award! YA’LL! My book was nominated for an award! I am in absolute shock. I’ve been trying to process this all day.

I won’t know if I’m a finalist until spring 2023, and I won’t know if I won until June 2023, and the waiting is going to absolutely stress me the fuck out, but I’m honestly too happy and giddy and euphoric right now to care about the waiting.

Writing has been and still is one of the primary outlets I use to be my most authentic self. Like every other writer I know, I pour my heart and soul into everything I write. I have since I was a kid. Creating this book was one of the hardest and most personally edifying experiences I’ve ever had. It was hard because the subject matter is so incredibly personal; diving back into your trauma for the sake of creating art around it so that someone else won’t feel as alone as you felt going through it, is tremendously difficult. It’s pain. It’s sadness. It’s grief. Sometimes it’s reliving the trauma all over again. And doing all of this knowing that your work may not be picked up by a publisher or read by anyone or acknowledged by anyone outside of your personal acquaintances, doesn’t make it any easier.

And I don’t think it should be easier, but it still takes a mental and emotional toll. So to see this book, to hold it in my hands and see my name on it and look inside and see the poems I wrote sprawled on the page, is honestly an enormous relief. But then, to find out that my publisher loved the book so much, they nominated it for an actual literary award for independent writers, is just…it’s beyond what I can comprehend at the moment.

The book is about my miscarriages, and they were such impactful moments of my life that they almost feel like a dream now. And they’re not dreams, they never were dreams, and it’s been long enough (eight years since my second miscarriage) that the nightmares have stopped. And actually, since every seven years all of the cells in our bodies regenerate, I am currently existing in a body without any cells left from that period of time. So a lot of time has passed and even though a lot of the trauma itself has healed, the grief remains. Every Mother’s Day, I remember my first miscarriage because in 2013, that was the day my first miscarriage started. And every January, I remember my second miscarriage.

But here’s a big reason why these events are still so impactful on who I am today: they are what led me to leave the church, and then leave my ex.

The reactions I got from the christians in my life when I had my miscarriages was, almost universally, horrifying to me. In fact, they, on their own, were a different form of trauma. And it was the worst from my former in-laws. I was told it “was all part of god’s plan,” and “everything happens for a reason,” and “god is testing you”….on and on they went without any consideration whatsoever for whether or not their words would help or harm. And see, that, therein, is one of the biggest issues with christianity: even if the people mean well, their words and actions can cause irreparable harm, and they don’t care. One person sent me bible verse about how losing the things we cherish most is a blessing because it brings us closer to christ. The amount of anger I felt when I received that was palpable.

And this isn’t including the many number of questions and insinuations that I had somehow caused the miscarriage by using a microwave or cleaning the litter box.

These things are what made me walk away from church and church people. The people I would normally have turned to for comfort were suddenly no longer safe for me. I still prayed. I still tried to reach god. I tried for years. But I only ever heard silence. That small voice I always thought was god when I would pray before, it was gone. And I see now that it was my faith that disappeared. And the worst part was that these same christians blamed me for that too, said that my faith must not have been that strong to begin with if some hurtful words from human beings were enough for me to lose that faith.

It’s hard, losing your spirituality. Especially when you’re a very spiritual person, like me. But the longer I was away from the church, the more I realized how much I didn’t belong in or believe the things being taught there. And the longer I was away from the church, the more I started to see my then-husband for who he really was: an emotionally abusive partner. See, every church I’ve ever been in has taught that divorce is a sin, that no matter how bad things get, you stay married and try to work it out. But it wasn’t until I had been out of the church for years that I started to see the ways my ex was mistreating me and abusing me. And then, it still took years for me to leave him because that shame was so deeply rooted inside of me; “I can’t leave him, I can’t give up on our marriage, I have to work harder to keep us together,” and all the while I was abandoning myself for the sake of someone who couldn’t have given two shits about the ways he hurt me.

If I hadn’t left the church, I don’t think I would have realized how abusive my ex was. And if I hadn’t had my miscarriages, I don’t know if I would have left the church. So in many ways, my miscarriages were the contractions that birthed a new version of myself, one who would start putting herself first.

That’s why my first book of poetry had to be about my miscarriages. And that’s why my next book of poetry is going to be about the loss of my faith, and the discovery of who I really am.

Writing this next book is going to hurt like a motherfucker. And I don’t know when I’m going to start it. But the healing I will find among its pages will be exquisite.

And until then, I’ll be waiting to hear about my award nomination!

Remember to buy my book! Check out the BOOKS FOR SALE tab above.

NaNoWriMo 2022

Well, today is it!

Day 1 of National Novel Writing Month.

My original goal was to draft the sequel to my current work-in-progress, but I did not actually finish my current WIP by the end of October, so my NaNoWriMo goal this year is to complete my first novel. It’s currently at about 57,000 words, and it should probably be much closer to 75,000 (minimum), so that is what I’m pushing for in my NaNoWriMo goal. It means some adjusting to my 2023 writing schedule, but I would rather adjust my writing schedule and continue to make consistent progress on my work, than force myself to rigidly keep to a schedule that isn’t working and burn myself out before I even get started.

If my M.F.A. taught me anything, it’s that writers need to adapt to the changes in their own lives, bodies, minds, and emotions to continue to be successful.

I also need to be kinder to myself considering that I am working full time and I’m still in school full time. I may not have the energy to write everyday, and that needs to be okay. I’m not in competition with anyone, not even myself. I need to do what’s most conducive to my writing process long-term. Otherwise, like I said above, burnout is inevitable.

I think this is something I’ve seen a lot in people who “want to be writers.” I definitely saw it in my M.F.A. I think part of it is that, as students, we’re told that we need to write every day to be successful, that if we don’t keep to a writing schedule we’ll fall out of the habit of writing entirely, etc. It’s a lot of “writer’s doomsday” stuff that, while they can be helpful to hear, really bury the most important point, which is that writers need to adapt. Our lives change, our work changes, our bodies change, our health and responsibilities and finances and locations change, and it’s simply unrealistic to expect that, through all of that, our writing practice will remain the same as it has always been.

Another part of this issue is that I’ve encountered writers and students who expected the industry to adapt to their perspective on how things should run. And that’s not to say that the writing community or the publishing industry doesn’t have a lot of room to grow (because they absolutely do), but when it comes to an individual writer and the ways they want the process to work, it seems to me to be a waste of time and energy to focus on all the ways they want things to be different, rather than trying to make the process work for them. Because ultimately, I am only in control of my own process. I can choose how I respond/react to the industry as a whole, and I can actively call out the horrible racist and homophobic practices of the publishing industry, but my writing, my process, are my own to worry about.

That’s a longwinded way of saying, if you want to be a writer, you’re going to have to force yourself to create some kind of writing schedule. It’s not going to get done on its own, and without a schedule – even a very inconsistent one – it won’t get done at all. Go at your own pace. Give yourself as much time as you need. Some people write multiple books every year, and others take five or more years on one project. There’s no wrong method, no wrong way to do it.

Embrace the change.
Adapt to your needs as well as the needs of your work.
And let yourself create.