L is for Letting Go

the challenge

L is for Letting Go

This is a tender topic for me, something that's hard for me to do personally, and I'm sure was hard for my mother before me. When you've done the best that you can, when you've given something or someone your all, there comes a time when you have to let it/them go. 

For mothers all over the world, this is a terrible balancing act. When and how do they let go? Baby birds learn to fly at great personal risk, and mothers must watch helplessly. But the truth behind the questions of how and when is that it isn't up to us. There comes a time when children stand up and say, "I am me. You are you. I'm going now. This is my next step into the world." 

Whether we let go or not, the time comes when our white-knuckled grasp is only holding air. 

It's this way with art, too. Like children, art comes from a very tender, private place inside us. It is cultivated by our love and attention. It is shaped by us, as much as it is within our talents and power, to resemble what we think it ought to be. And when we've done our best, given our all, it's time to let go. 

For authors lucky and determined enough to have publishing contracts or self-publishing release dates, that time is a specific date. For them, letting go is a fixed affair. "On this day I will send my book baby into the world, come what may." You see a lot of posts to this effect on twitter and facebook. Authors say, "I've done it. It's release day. I'm sending it out into the world. I hope you love it." 

But you can't make them love it. You can't even make them understand it. People will misunderstand your art, just as they will insist on misunderstanding you. People will chop up your work, quote it or paraphrase it out of context, make you look silly (sparkly vampires). People will snark about what is sacred to you, make themselves seem clever while tearing you down. It's what people do sometimes. 

People may review the earliest edition of your self-published book (as happened to a very vocal disgruntled writer a few years back). They may reprint your typos and call them stupidity. 

And they will do all of this without asking for your permission. 

Let it go.

Then there are artists like me. I'm not published, and I haven't published myself. I've talked about it. I've thought about it, but I'm just not ready. Some of my closest friends and family say, "Let it go." Just put your art out into the world and let it be read, even when it's not perfect. I resist. I want it to be perfect. I want it to be without flaws. I want to "avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule" (Darcy).

Some painters swipe and brush away at their favorite pieces in the lamp-lit corners of their houses, never portraying their art to the community because all they can see are the flaws. I don't want to be that. But I also want my "debut" to be auspicious and what they call promising. I want to be read and appreciated and most of all understood. 

So I can understand if even a traditionally published author has trouble, because I feel it, too, the resistance, as tight as a rubber band, to the notion, the pull against gravity, telling me to

Let it go.

Jinx: The Hazard of Writing about Bad Luck

Source, to buy

On my way back from checking the mail, I tripped and fell down on the asphalt while holding my baby. It was a scary half-second, but instead of falling on my baby and crushing him, my mom superpowers kicked in and I rolled, arching my arm around his little head as we fell. It happened so fast, though.

Totally rattling. I was rattled.

And then when I had time to process what had happened, I thought (a) Yay for maternal instinct! (baby didn't get a scratch, though I lost some skin), and (b) man, what rotten luck!

Rotten luck. It's the curse of Graylyn Stephens, my MC in COULD BE WORSE. But why am I suddenly seized with it? Is bad luck contagious? Did I jinx myself by daring to write about forces I can't possibly hope to understand?

*knock on wood*

What do you think? Have you ever felt jinxed? And should I keep writing COULD BE WORSE? (I'm 19k words into it.)

That Can't-Breathe Feeling: Anticipation

Source: Eleesha.com, Original inspirations

I've been excited lately, rather a lot. It's not that everything is working out perfectly for me. Far from it. It's just that I'm anticipating a lot of things.

I'm in the middle of my first project as an editorial assistant for Month9Books. As soon as I finish, they're going to send me another awesome pre-published book to pore through. In short, I'm loving this new job, at the same time I am terrified that I'll mess up and lose the opportunity. This results in that can't-breathe feeling, or what many authors have described as waiting with bated breath.

There are other areas of my life that give me that feeling, too. Of course, being a writer, I feel that way all the time about one project or another. Will this plot hole be resolved to the betterment of the book? Will my betas like the pages I sent? Will that agent ask for a partial, or a full? Will this finally be the one? Since I'm working on three writing projects simultaneously, I end up feeling the full emotional impact of these questions in triplicate.

Then there's the anticipation a parent feels for a child each time he shows his potential. I get that in triplicate, too. Hee hee. Three boys, triple the awesome, triple the mess.

Last but not least, it's been a long road with my husband's career and trying to end up where we want to be when we put down roots, finally get out of apartments, and decide to stay. We've moved 7 times and been married for 7 years. We just moved last November for the seventh time, and this isn't a permanent residence for us, either. As much as I may have loved being a rolling stone in my early twenties, that feeling is going away pretty fast as I near July and my thirtieth birthday. The feeling that's replaced it is...

anticipation.

It's not hope. It's not fear. It's just that in-between anxiousness that promises either/or. It's potential. It's almost promise.

Do you know this feeling? What has you feeling this way?

Blog Chain: Elusive Balance

Source: Maxwell Holyoke-Hirsch

Lisa's farewell topic for the Blog Chain - The balancing act. How do you balance your writing time with everything else in your life--including, kids, job, book promotion?

Answer: I don't.

Honestly, this is just life, and balance is a lifelong pursuit for everybody. Somebody can think she's got it all figured out for a week or two, and then fate or God or the devil throws her a curve ball and it all falls apart again. 

Examples of curve balls in my personal life:

• death in the family
• near-fatal car accident
• pregnancy
• new baby
• restructuring the group blog

Then there are the things you choose, which come at you straight on like fast balls:

• coordinating with authors/agents on writing conference
• coordinating with authors/agents on mystery agent contest
• agent revise and resubmit (hasn't happened to me)
• editorial notes (hasn't happened to me)
• release week for your own book (hasn't happened to me)
• writing three books at once (living it, loving it)

Whether you choose your stress or merely suffer through it, balance is an ideal and not an actual destination. The best I can hope to do is cope. How do I personally cope with the struggle for balance? Why not throw some more bullet points in this blog post? :)

• Prioritize: God/spiritual health first, family (husband, kids, parents, siblings) second, career (blogging, writing, reviewing, reading, editing) third. This is the ideal, not the reality in most cases. But it does help to remember my ideal.
• Be flexible: Remember that the best-laid plans of mice and men are not going to turn out perfectly. This is easier said than done, too. It's disappointing to see a plan foiled by a curve ball. As fast as those fast balls are, at least they come at you straight, and you know what to expect. When something goes askew at the last second, that's the worst kind of stress. Expect detours.
• If all else fails, breathe: Literally stop what you are doing, take a breath, and do some purposeful relaxation. Yoga, running, ice cream, dance, karaoke... whatever does it for you personally. For me, it's running and ballet, or curling up with a non-required-reading book. 

Since I haven't had the fun or stress of publishing a book, my insights are restricted to juggling the usual writing-with-a-family stresses (well, plus homeschooling). 

For more insights from people further along in their publishing road, check out Christine Fonseca's thoughts from yesterday, and meet our newest blog chain member, taking Lisa Amowitz's place: Demitria Lunetta.

Welcome to the Blog Chain, Demitria!

Birthday for Ben

My mind settles slowly back into my body. With the final fury of instinct past, I'm completely blank, like an angel has pressed my restart button. Donna tells me, "Look at your baby, Katrina. He's looking at you."

And I remember where I am - what I've just done.

I look down at the baby in my arms. Here's Ben. He's absolutely perfect, I'm convinced of it. I can't look away. His tiny dark eyes watch me in the dim morning light. I take his long fingers and wrap them around my finger. Then he lets out a cry. Just one, like he's testing it out. We go back to inspecting each other. I've given birth twice already, but I've never had this moment before. It's monumental, this sudden and unexpected calm. I could stay in the water forever, just touching his silk cheeks, watching him breathe. "What do you think?" my husband asks. "Does he look like a Benjamin?"
"Oh, yeah," I say, coming back to the world around me. "Yeah, he does."

Ben starts to cry again, and all I want to do is hold him close, kiss his face, and teach him to smile.

For those of you wondering why I never blog anymore, here's an answer. :) I usually get back into writing within a few months after having a baby, but now I have three, so we'll see how it goes. I still blog weekly at Operation Awesome on Fridays, and post to Afterglow Book Reviews when I fall in love with a book.

I'll be back. (said Terminator-style)