Elora Nicole Ramirez's Blog, page 11

vulnerability and blogging.

I miss you writing from what's going on in your heart, the email said. I know how it is to need to sell a product so you can eat but don't neglect that part of your heart. It's endearing. 

I stared at the screen for a few minutes and then shut my laptop, the anxiety rising in my gut. 

It's a romantic notion. Noble, even. Writing your heart for others to read is probably the highest of virtues in the literary world. But how do you capture the violent ways our souls bend and crack? How do you carry well the anticipation of others without folding from the weight of their expectations? 

It used to be easy. 

Before the rent check, before the heartbreak, before the betrayals, before the lynch mobs at the ready. I didn't need to worry about upsetting anyone because my story intersected with a very small radius of people and they rarely visited this space. I could share my heart without telling you specifics and no one would ever know. 

But not now. Now there are ramifications. Now there are risks. I've seen what happens to those who are vilified. 

And so I swallow my words.

I swallow the story of hearing my voice echo across a Texas canyon, coyotes yipping back at me. I swallow the story of friendships that weren't what I thought. I swallow the weight of words thrown carelessly toward another, and the way Failure draped himself over me. I swallow the fire, the anger, the jealousy and the fear. I swallow the emails filled with hatred. I swallow the good things, too. I swallow the flash-mob dance parties and laughing until I cry. I swallow nights filled with wine and art journaling and feeling the way my soul can be known by another. I swallow clarity and purpose and the return of confidence. I swallow the loss of faith and the rush of new birth, sweaty and bloody and wobbly limbed like a day-old colt.

I swallow it all until the belly of my voice is so swollen from lethargy that I can't even whisper the most archaic thought.

Yet while I feast on the words I cannot say, I'm telling you to speak your own.

I recognize the hypocrisy here. I'm working on it. These past few years have been tumultuous at best and there were moments I wondered if I would ever return to this space. But I'm here now, with hundreds of stories waiting their moment. 

And with shaking fingers, I begin.

chasing wild

Somewhere back in the fall, I stopped posting here. 

A lot of it was necessity. Things were happening I didn't feel comfortable sharing, and so I drew inward, processing with those around me. There's a certain holiness in allowing people to grab your hand or throw dance parties on your behalf or share rapid fire text messages with in the middle of the day when you're hit with one more mountain to climb.

Somewhere along the way, I shed more than a few masks and I softened into wild.

It started in September. 

It's never easy to chase your purpose. It's easy to find it. It's easy to coax it out from hiding in the shadows, even. But chasing it? There's nothing more grueling. It's a constant state of realignment that requires flexibility and gumption. I found my purpose in the Skype calls and curriculum building of Story Unfolding. But somewhere along the way, it ran off unbidden. 

This happens when you let someone else hold your purpose. 

So in September, I chased it and lured it back. And since then I've scraped everything and fought to realign what fits with the story I know I'm designed to live.

This is what I've learned the past six months. Inviting others into your story only works if you're claiming it as your own. Inviting others in for the sole purpose of carrying the weight of your dream? Faulty logic. 

No one wants grabby hands over something born from their soul. But who can blame anyone if you've handed it over to them for safe-keeping?

So now I'm here, living a schedule completely foreign to six-months-ago Elora but feeling aligned and driven and full of intention and soul. I rebranded. I finally let go of Story Sessions, seeing that The Coterie is what I was meant to do all along, what I fought to make Story Unfolding but never succeeded in doing because I was living so many other stories (and not my own) and allowing so many others to live the story meant for me. And there's a fierce protection growing over the women in the group now - the ones who've said yes to writing the story in their bones. The potential of 90 or so books lining my shelves this time next year has me giddy with excitement and determination. 

This is chasing wild. This is me focusing on what's mine. This is me claiming my purpose and refusing to let the perception of others cloud my vision.  

There are about a million and one stories from the past few months that I can share, but I'm choosing to start fresh. I'll post about books I read and lessons I'm learning in creative entrepreneurship. I'll post thoughts and rambles about my year of #novelistwild. I'll tell stories and process through life seasons and celebrate the every day living of me and my people. 

But most of all, I'll choose to show up. Because more than anything, that's what chasing wild has taught me.

This is your life. This is your story. You have to choose to show up.  

If I had to pinpoint a moment in which I began to put everything together, where things shifted into clarity for me and I began sensing a movement in all areas of my life, it would be signing up for Hey, Sweet Pea's online school My Own Irresistible Brand. This is not an affiliate link. I just believe that strongly in their program because I know what it did for me when I was faced with the rubble of a dream. Go check out their free video series if you're needing a kick in the pants with an affirming hug. I promise you it's worth it. 

elora reads: favorite books of 2014

In 2012, I made a list of my favorite books. I finished the post, hit publish, and picked up Tahereh Mafi's Shatter Me and promptly placed the book back on my nightstand until 2013. 

I knew if I finished the book, I would have to go back and edit my post. 

I didn't write a favorite reads post of 2013, mostly because I didn't read as much as I hoped and also because I spent the remaining few days of 2013 sick with a cold. 

But this year? This year I waited until January 1 to write the post, making sure I didn't miss any stragglers from last week. And, because coffee has counteracted my daily Benadryl + Zyrtec blend, I have the energy to curate the list. You're welcome. 

 

NONFICTION :: Yes Please, Amy Poehler

I listened to this book while driving with my husband too and from places all around town. I can't tell you how many times I didn't want to get out of the car simply because I was enjoying the book so much. Writers: her introduction is worth the purchase alone. No really. I promise. 

How the World Sees You: Discover Your Highest Value Through the Science of Fascination, Sally Hogshead

Do you know those books where you're constantly grunting because it feels as if the author has your number and you're wondering how she managed to share your deepest secrets without you even knowing? That's this book. I love the concept behind this so much I use it in Rebel Diaries. My type? The Intrigue. It's like the Enneagram in that once you find out your advantages, the signs pointing to your particular weakness leave you wincing with clarity. But, more than anything, this book helped salvage a lot of decision-making I did in 2014. 

#GIRLBOSS, Sophia Amoruso

Amoruso pulls absolutely no punches with this book. This past summer, I happened upon an Instagram with this cover smiling at me and given the state my current business was in, I knew I needed a dose of reality. This book won't be for everyone, her tone can be abrasive and she has no issues with swearing, but finishing this book gave me the gumption I needed to make Awake the Bones what I knew it was meant to be in the very beginning. 

Tables in the Wilderness: A Memoir of God Found, Lost, and Found Again, Preston Yancey

A few years ago, Preston sat on our couch while drinking wine and playing Settlers of Catan and told me of this idea for a book. "It's about a table," he said. And immediately I knew it would be a game changer. Often, when you have friends who publish books, you feel obligated to shower them with praise. No obligation here. Reading this book felt as if I were sitting in a coffee shop listening to his story. In fact, my brother asked for devotionals or AW Tozer books for Christmas. There was no question for my husband and me — we got him this book by Preston and within a few hours of opening the gift, he read a third of the book.

The Desire Map: A Guide to Creating Goals with Soul, Danielle LaPorte

THE book for those of us who fall into the category of intense feelers. I've been working my way through this book (slowly) since February, and this summer nailed down some Core Desired Feelings. Those words pointed me in so many places during the remainder of the year and just yesterday I worked through the words to capture what I hope to feel in 2015: generous, alchemy, wild, golden, pure, and visceral. This book is more than creating goals and visioning where you want to be in a few years. For me, it provides an avenue in which I can find contentment in my every-day poetics.

 

FICTION :: The Sea of Tranquility, Katja Millay

I'm not even sure if I have words for this one. It may be THE favorite of 2014. I read it in one sitting and didn't go to bed until 3am because I couldn't put it down. With sentences like  I am pressed so hard against the earth by the weight of reality that some days I wonder how I am still able to lift my feet to walk it was easy for me to fall into the rhythm of Millay's words. I want more of them. Like yesterday. 

Ignite Me, Tahereh Mafi

Oh wait. This may be a favorite too. Just...get this entire series. Read it. This last book had me reeling in awesomeness and phrases I wish I could have thought of myself. Mafi's diction and structure and syntax — all of it makes me swoon. Trust me on this one. Okay? Okay. 

The Sky Is Everywhere, Jandy Nelson

This time last year, my cover artist posted on Facebook that Jandy Nelson's paperback was on sale and that we all needed to one-click, no questions asked. So I did, because I trust her taste, and y'all. It's become one of the books that I'll loan out to only the precious most important people in my life because I don't ever want to lose it. Loved this book. LOVED it. 

Portals of Water and Wine, R.L. Haas

I may be a bit biased here, because I worked with Haas while she was finishing her book, but I promise you: part of the reason I hounded her in coaching is because I believed in this book so much. Engaging, fun, unique — it had me riveted. I'm not one to read books with faeries, but this one had me forgetting that fine line between fiction and reality. I loved her characters and loved her writing style even more. This one is on my list because Haas is an author to watch. Promise. 

This Is Where I Leave You: A Novel, Jonathan Tropper

This was a book club selection this past fall and I love-love-loved it because of the gut wrenching honesty Tropper manages to weave into his plot. Families are hard, but beautiful, and you see that in this book. It's also hilarious and refreshing and doesn't try too hard. So, bonus. 

What were your favorite books this past year? What are you hoping to read in 2015? For me, this is the year of Outlander and CS Lewis' fiction, among others. 

The shape of a year.

I knew it even then.

I could smell it on the wind, I think — the newness coming in 2014. Last year, December carried with it a holy level of anticipation.

This would be the year I claimed myself.

I started the year with the official launch of Story Sessions. January brought our first twitter party and with it, our numbers grew from 40 to almost 100. 

I spent most of January in teary-eyed wonder. Every time someone else would sign up, I'd whisper a thanks and push deeper. February brought confirmation. Sitting at a dining table at a ranch in Dripping Springs, I watched women from all over the country walk around the grounds and talk on the porch and rest on the couch. I can't tell you the gut-level conviction I felt in those moments. It can't be articulated. I will always remember that weekend as the moment I reached for my calling and chose to embrace it.

I think back on those moments and am amazed at how quickly this year passed. Everything else feels blurry and translucent, bits and pieces of conversations and arguments and tears and misunderstandings merging together into one thick fog that covers everything that happened from March until September.

One thing I've learned: claiming yourself isn't for the faint of heart.

I realized in July changes needed to be made in Story Unfolding. I was learning something: risking is huge. Articulating what you want or like or believe is scary. But you can't just stop there. You have to do it. You have to own it.

And so I did. 

.::.

In October, fresh off the month from hell, I signed up for Hey, Sweet Pea's My Own Irresistible Brand. This itself was a risk. September brought a massive hit to Story Unfolding and Russ lost his job 30 minutes after I signed up for this course. 

But I had to do something. I was at my limits in so many areas and I knew I needed to remember that why — needed to remember the moment I knew this was what I was supposed to be doing with my life.

You see, I thought I just wanted to wipe everything clean. This fall was one of the hardest I've ever experienced. I told a mentor of mine that I was just going to give it all up and do something else. One of my closest friends said, "maybe you'll just need to start over..." 

But I started to remember. I got into this to breathe life into other people. I wanted those who interacted with me to feel electric and inspired and empowered. I wanted to awake the stories caught in our bones. 

So I renamed Story Unfolding. 

Here's the thing: I thought starting over looked like offering something completely different. I thought it would mean creating something from the ground up and re-visualizing what I already did. I thought the subscription — now called The Storytellers — would just be a small offering in the grand scope of my business. 

But one night while I sat at my desk doing homework, I looked at the question "what have you always wanted to get paid to do...." and started crying because I'm doing it. I've never stopped.

It's the group of women I interact with every. single. day. It's hearing their dreams and sprinting with them in our manuscripts and hopping on a Skype call with them at all hours in order to iron out the stickiness of their storylines. It's penciling in release dates on my calendar and celebrating when another one of us pushes out another book. It's laughing at the solidarity behind capturing ideas and realizing (yet again) that if you don't write, you get stuck. 

I thought of this time last year, prepping for the launch and being blown away by the yes-ness of January and the life and movement pouring into the community. 

My storytellers? They are the core of Awake the Bones. They are everything. From there, everything made sense. 

My year had come full circle.

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day thirty one: the old familiar feeling.

I know it when I feel it.

 

First, a heaviness.

It may hit me blind or grow quiet. Either way, I wake up one morning knowing the words returned in the middle of the night. I'm left with the tension of telling everyone in my vicinity and keeping the knowledge close. I don't want to spook the kismet.

Next, the flutter. 

Characters begin shouting their sass. Inspiration oozes from every interaction. One minute I'm not even thinking about plot and word count and structure and the next? The next I'm outlining scenes and laughing and dancing in my chair. The flutter turns into chills on my arms and I wonder —

do I have it in me to do it again? 

Somewhere within this movement, the emotion comes. 

Yesterday, this happened.

First I found an article synchronous with an idea circulating in my veins, something that's brushing up against the darker version — the one I blinked into existence about a week ago and became frightened by its intensity. The article gives me pause. It makes me shake internally. I feel the tears threaten and swallow them away and work on something else, throwing up the question to the Universe and letting it rest.

The connection came later.

Staring at the descriptors, one caught my eye. This, mixed with that, and there IT is...my book.

I shoot a message to a friend, asking her what she thinks about it, and she responds immediately. 

You write that thing. I mean it.

And then, the tears. 

ast night, a friend told me he loves that there is a process before my process — the way words come and introduce themselves to me. I told him that's where the emotion comes for me. It's an old familiar feeling, running through my bones all over again.

Because it's one thing to come up with an idea. It's another to recognize the synchronicity of art and story and characters begging you to come out and play.

There are moments I get stuck. There are times within the process where I wonder if I'll ever feel the weight of the last sentence. But what really pushes me over the edge? It's not the fear of quitting in the middle of a piece. I'm too stubborn for that to happen. 

It's the beginning again that catches in my throat. The heaviness is there for a reason. It's months of words building on top of one another and manifesting as a monster threatening to claw its way out of my soul.

The concept of writing isn't a question anymore. It's not even a should. The concept of writing has turned into a must.

In the next couple of weeks, I'll be gathering my people around me. The ones who pushed me through SOMEWHERE BETWEEN WATER & SKY will be the same ones who whisper strength and encouragement over my words with this new project. And in a month or three, when I press the last key that wraps up the end of my third book, the heaviness will fade and the flutter will return and the tears will flow down my cheeks. 

Because I beat the monster once again.

And here's the secret: you can too. 

You have a story inside. You know the one. You know it because this post made you emotional and your hands are kind of vibrating with a buzz you didn't know existed. 

Write the book. 

Start with one word, and then another, and then don't stop until you feel your characters breathe easy with completion. You may think no one will read it. You may think the story's not important. 

But you will never know unless you try. 

Need more inspiration? Introducing Hustle & Flow: a weekly letter with artistic visioning for the everyday creative. I would love it if you signed up, and I won't ever spam you. Promise. 

You'll get hints and anecdotes about getting unstuck and living your most artistic life within the midst of your every day poetics. AND, if you sign up during October, you'll get some special extras dealing with indie-publishing.

day thirty: adding a touch of humanity to your marketing.

The first time someone I didn't know tweeted about my book I freaked. I remember it so distinctly. I was at a friend's house for dinner and we were about to leave. I pulled out my phone and saw the notifications. It was an amazing compliment, encouraging others to pick up the book and read it. Within minutes, another tweet came from someone who read my book and within 12 hours had a friend confide in her that she'd been raped. Everyone needs to read this book, she said. Because of this book I knew how to respond. 

Immediately, I favorited the tweet and replied through my tears, thanking them for taking the time to read. 

To this day I still have a relationship with both of these readers. One of them I've even met for coffee multiple times. And there are more than a handful of readers I wish I could meet with TODAY because of their support.

When you publish your book, people are going to read it. 

Maybe at first, it'll be just your friends and family. Maybe there will be enough love surrounding your teasers and updates that a few more than just your friends will purchase it within the first week.

Or maybe, you'll find success straight out the gate and hit all types of record-breaking best-seller lists.

Whatever happens, people will begin talking. 

And as an author who knows your way around how words work, you will have the ability to reach for life or reach for death.

What will you choose?

It won't be enough to say you love your readers. How do you show them? It won't be enough to compose some sugary-sweet tweets now and then if your newsletters blast the latest hit within your genre. 

Aim for consistency. Aim for humanity. 

On the other end of these blog posts and reviews and tweets and Facebook statuses rests a soul surrounded by flesh and blood — just like you. Engage with people. Don't just tweet out links to your book. Be yourself. If you need a great example of someone who knows how to build relationships with her readers, check out Susan Dennard. 

One of the biggest perks of indie publishing is your immediate access to those who've read your book. 

Don't take this for granted. Be creative. Show gratitude. Adding the touch of humanity to your marketing moves mountains because you're not being a robot. And trust me, there are plenty of people in the industry not doing their best on the humanity front that your authenticity will be noticed.

Stay focused. Stay human. Stay grateful. 

The rest will fall into place.

Need more inspiration? Introducing Hustle & Flow: a weekly letter with artistic visioning for the everyday creative. I would love it if you signed up, and I won't ever spam you. Promise. 

You'll get hints and anecdotes about getting unstuck and living your most artistic life within the midst of your every day poetics. AND, if you sign up during October, you'll get some special extras dealing with indie-publishing.

day twenty nine: on book-bloggers, the unsung heroes of every novel

I still remember those first moments people started talking about COME ALIVE on their blogs.

It freaked me out at first. A lot of these people were friends of mine or within the network I frequented online. I didn't know how to respond. They didn't have to write about it. There wasn't a sign up or anything. These were just people who loved me and loved my book and wanted to talk about it. Should I respond at all? Should I share the post? Would that seem egotistical? Should I even thank them? 

When EVERY SHATTERED THING released, I signed up for a blog tour through InkSlinger PR. This is where I began to understand the magic of word-of-mouth marketing and how amazing bloggers can be for a book. I had blogs posting about it every day for a little over a week. Some of them were amazing. Some of them were unsure. Some of them were from people who didn't like the book.

All of them were SO NEEDED to get the word out about EVERY SHATTERED THING.

I grew more relaxed. I started answering questions and engaging with the bloggers on social media when they'd chat with me. If they tagged me in a tweet with a link to their review post, I'd thank them for reading + sharing the book and RT their review. I found them on Facebook and made sure to "like" their blog pages so I could keep up with them. If they responded to me consistently on Twitter, I'd make sure to follow them back.

Slowly, over the past fifteen months, I've come to realize something.

I would not be where I'm at today if it weren't for book bloggers taking time out of their schedules to read and talk about my books. Not every review glows with praise. I'm okay with this. There is nothing — nothing — that compares to the community of book bloggers who celebrate and cheer on indie authors. I've learned more about indie publishing through this network than anywhere else. And I've grown to love the people behind some of the blogs that promote books with humility, excitement, and honesty.

A few months ago, I was a table assistant for an author at a local book signing. Before the doors opened, there was a line down the hallway and circling the stairs below the hotel lobby. There were homemade t-shirts. Posters made. Scrapbooks filled with book covers and character names. These bloggers weren't messing around by holding one-or-two books to sign. Nope. They had luggage filled with copies of books. Multiple books per author.

The atmosphere was electric.

They gave gifts to the authors. Bracelets, drawings, flowers — and it wasn't with this "I'm trying to impress you" vibe, either. These were humans legitimately wanting to connect with another human they admire. These were relationships that formed long before the face-to-face interaction. 

One reader came up to the woman I was working with and started crying. 

"You have no idea what your books did for me," she whispered. Laughing, she wiped at her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I told myself I wouldn't cry. But your books....they just got me through a huge rough spot and I'm so thankful. Please don't stop writing." 

If I didn't know it before that event (I did), I definitely knew it after: book bloggers are the lifeblood of your indie release. 

Love them. Care for them. Engage with them. Pay attention to your @ replies on twitter, because sometimes they'll send you questions about your book. Respond to their emails if they take time to shoot you a message. 

Rainbow Rowell does this well. So does Sue Monk Kidd. I've even had John Green reply / favorite / RT a few of my responses to his questions or comments. Cora Carmack and K.A. Tucker and Autumn Doughton are also amazing at engaging with their readers.

I used to think it was okay to not respond. (And sometimes, it's necessary.) But, then I started noticing how seen I felt when authors took the time to engage with me when I'd tweet about their books or send them a message on social media. I started realizing that the book I loved just turned into a blog post trying to convince everyone else to read it. 

I'm not a book blogger, but I'm more likely to share a work and celebrate its releases and try to get others to purchase a book if I know there's a human and not a robot between the hardback bindings.

So imagine the power of a book blogger. 

By getting bloggers to read and review your book, you're harnessing their platform. Note: harness and don't use. There's a difference. One, there's an exchange that happens. A giving over of sorts. There's no expectation that they will share a certain way and you're thankful regardless. The other? You just want them for their numbers and audience and not because it's one more person reading your words + engaging with you in storytelling.

Word of mouth marketing is huge. Think of the runaway success of FAULT IN OUR STARS or how it wasn't until John Green wrote about ELEANOR AND PARK for NY TIMES that Rowell hit the bestseller list. Book blogging is more than just haphazardly throwing up GIFs to explain the feels involved in a certain novel. Book blogging is spreading the love of good stories.

And you know what? Even if the review lacks the oomph you're hoping for, they're still talking about your book. They're still sharing links. They're still celebrating the fact that one more person pushed a book out into the world. Because of this, bloggers will always be a huge step in my marketing process. Every time someone writes about EVERY SHATTERED THING or SOMEWHERE BETWEEN WATER & SKY, I'm thankful. Every time someone RTs a tweet where I'm sharing about it, I'm encouraged. And every time a reader expresses hope for new books and curiosity about what I will publish next, I'm inspired. 

If you want to feel connected to your readers, find bloggers who will read and write about your book. Love them. Support them. Cheer for them as they hit milestones of their own. When you get down to it, we're all in this together. From my experience, book bloggers are some of my favorite partners in helping me share about my latest characters because they believe in the stories just as much as I do. 

And for an author, this type of relationship is priceless.

Need more inspiration? Introducing Hustle & Flow: a weekly letter with artistic visioning for the everyday creative. I would love it if you signed up, and I won't ever spam you. Promise. 

You'll get hints and anecdotes about getting unstuck and living your most artistic life within the midst of your every day poetics. AND, if you sign up during October, you'll get some special extras dealing with indie-publishing.

day twenty eight: resources on criticism

The other day, I combed through my email and started laughing. I'm all for sensing a theme within the emails sent to me, but this was exceptional. Email after email, I read what other people are doing to handle criticism in their field. 

And I thought, well why not share these? 

Like this post from Publishing Crawl by Alex Bracken. She talks about a recent situation between an author and reviewer and how to avoid the trap of reading reviews. I love her tips — especially the one about accessibility, which we'll talk about later this week.

I always love Tara Mohr, and this article about learning to write for herself and not the crowd is no exception. 

99u consistently puts out challenging articles + videos on the creative process, and I loved what Gregory Ciotti had to say here about why some people are born haters.

And anytime you find something from Malcolm Gladwell on criticism, you know it's going to be good. 

What about you? Have you found any really good links lately about how to handle the negativity?

Need more inspiration? Introducing Hustle & Flow: a weekly letter with artistic visioning for the everyday creative. I would love it if you signed up, and I won't ever spam you. Promise. 

You'll get hints and anecdotes about getting unstuck and living your most artistic life within the midst of your every day poetics. AND, if you sign up during October, you'll get some special extras dealing with indie-publishing.

day twenty seven: when to respond to the critic

Your book is out and people are reading it. One day, you stumble on a review that misses the point of the story entirely. They're marking you down for clarity and they haven't even read the first book. Or they're misreading a character's place. Or they're reading too much into a scene. You fill in the blank. Whatever it is, they hated your book and they're letting everyone know.

You feel your pulse quicken and you shake your head. They're just mistaken. You come up with a plan to respond to the review (on Amazon or Goodreads or a comment on their blog or — oh! even better! — a post on your blog) and this person will see the light. They'll be so thankful you took the time to respond in order for everyone to reach a deeper understanding.

Right? 

WRONG.

Please don't feed the critic.

I know you want to — they're talking about your baby, after all. I get it. It hurts when someone twists your words and work into something pliable and simple. 

Resist the urge to engage.

Nothing good ever comes of it. Ever. It's why Goodreads includes the following suggestion in their author portal: 

Do you see what they said? Others read your response. Even if you email the critic to engage in a civil discussion, I guarantee there will be forwards and screenshots and private messages. Regardless of how you approach this person, there will be someone who sees it as hostile.

Listen. There will always be critics. Always. And critics are not horrible people. I'm even going to go so far as say a huge majority of them really do know what they're talking about when they read a book. They know what they like. If they didn't like your book, there won't be much that will change their mind.

And that's okay.

Because you have a group of people who do like your book. Focus on them. Build relationships and conversations with them. 

Don't be the cocksure author who assumes everyone will know and love you, even if it takes a few conversations explaining WHY your book is so amazing. Be a human who understands that not everyone will get why you're doing something and that's okay because you're gonna do it anyway. You know what you love. You know what story is burning in those bones of yours. You spent weeks and months and maybe even years getting it out on paper.

Listening (and engaging) with critics will cause you to doubt that story. It will anger you, frustrate you and belittle you. Why? 

Because if someone doesn't like your work, they're not going to suddenly like your work after you comment about their criticism. It will be the circle of doom trying to figure out why someone doesn't like your art.

And that will drive anyone crazy. When we're driven crazy, we do crazy things. 

Remember: focus on those who are with you in the arena. Focus on those who want to hear more of your work. Forget the rest. Not because they aren't important, they are — their thoughts and feelings are valid. Forget them because focusing on them will cause you to doubt your core. 

Need more inspiration? Introducing Hustle & Flow: a weekly letter with artistic visioning for the everyday creative. I would love it if you signed up, and I won't ever spam you. Promise. 

You'll get hints and anecdotes about getting unstuck and living your most artistic life within the midst of your every day poetics. AND, if you sign up during October, you'll get some special extras dealing with indie-publishing.

day twenty six: critic's math

Sometimes, creativity and desperation drives us to do things we wouldn't normally do.

A few years ago, breathing in the fumes from a publishing relationship gone sour, I partnered with a service that would offer my book for free in exchange for reviews. That wasn't the mistake. 

The mistake came when I made the decision to take back my content and revise Come Alive. I would retitle it, recover it, re-release it. 

Blank slate. 

Have I mentioned how much I love new beginnings and blank slates? The possibilities are endless. I had a few hundred emails from people who downloaded the original book for free and I decided to make new out of the mess I was left with when my publisher shut down and my agent dropped the contract. 

I turned the mailing list into beta readers.

"You get to help with the rewrites!" I said, full of naïvety and hope. "As you read through the book, let me know your thoughts. What do you want to see developed? What pieces of the plot didn't make sense?"

And the big question — the one that kicked me in the pants before I even knew what was happening: 

"How can I make it better?" 

The emails were almost immediate, some good — some okay — others rather opinionated. But it was one email that nearly knocked me off my feet. 

I was at a local coffee shop when I got the email. Outside in the cold February air, I scrolled through the words and felt the immediate sting of tears against my cheeks. 

No wonder you're editing it, the email said. I couldn't even get past the first two chapters. Horrible book. Waste of my time. So glad you're fixing it.

There were other words, each more hostile than the first. I didn't know this person. I had no idea why she felt the need to attack me. I backed out of the inbox as quick as I could and fought to breathe as the gremlins made their case. 

She's right, you know. Why do you think the publisher closed? Why do you think your agent left you? You're no good. Your writing is stupid. Horrible, even. You shouldn't even try and edit because it would be a waste of your time....

I didn't write for weeks, and I didn't really jump into editing Come Alive (now Every Shattered Thing) until that summer. 

.::.

A few months ago, I was introduced to Critics Math. Basically, critics math does not care about the glowing reviews. You can receive 100 5-stars and one 1-star and what will you remember? 

The one star. 

When I sent out the email, I wasn't expecting everyone to love the book. I wasn't even expecting all good things waiting for me in my inbox. I knew there would be some criticism, because I knew the story had work that needed to be done to make it great.

I did get good things. I have plenty of emails with responses that included phrases like it's the best book I've read in a long time and I couldn't go to sleep until I finished it and thank you for being brave enough to write this story.

But once I received the email that hit me in the gut, it was the only email I remembered for a long time and it would reappear in my mind when I considered what to write. 

Maybe I should just dabble in nonfiction. Forget the whole literature thing. 

You know. Doubt. 

But there are two things I missed in this situation that I cling to now. 

You Get to Choose Who Will Keep Your Attention 

Brene Brown keeps a list of names in her pocket. These are the people she'll receive criticism from — they're her people. The ones she knows she can trust. Anybody else? It's not that they don't matter, because they do — it's just that the weight of their opinion is minuscule compared to the ones who have her back and are fighting alongside her. 

My friend Kathleen won't read any reviews under 4-stars. She only reads the good ones. This isn't because she isn't willing to know her weaknesses. She has editors and beta readers and critique partners for that and they are not slow in challenging her to become a better writer. She writes to the 4 and 5 star reviewers. She writes for the ones who know her and love her stories. 

You know the people who have your back. Keep them. Listen to them. 

Not Everyone Deserves Your Story

In an attempt to connect with readers, I opened up a very wide net of trust. I believed that because they downloaded my book off a site, they would take care with my words and offer criticism and suggestions with the same amount of care. 

Nothing gets the doubt gremlins going more than when I overshoot boundaries and share deeply when the story will not be met with care and gratitude. Not everyone on that list deserved my time and attention. And yet, by emailing them my intent to listen, I unlocked the door and the crazies came a-knockin. 

Doubt will try every which way to knock you down. Resistance is real and most days we feel him breathing down our neck, working hard to stifle the story that is building in our chest.

Don't let it happen. Don't let the critics win. You know the story you're meant to tell. Cling to the ones who will hold your hand while you get the words out and challenge you to find the language to tell it well. They're the ones who matter. 

And when the critics come knocking, point them to the stands. You're too busy getting dirty in the middle of the arena to pay attention to them anyhow.

Need more inspiration? Introducing Hustle & Flow: a weekly letter with artistic visioning for the everyday creative. I would love it if you signed up, and I won't ever spam you. Promise. 

You'll get hints and anecdotes about getting unstuck and living your most artistic life within the midst of your every day poetics. AND, if you sign up during October, you'll get some special extras dealing with indie-publishing.