In Search of Happy

I’ll post 2023’s short story theme soon – hopefully by Monday. And I’ve got some good, exciting things on the horizon, creating-wise. But y’all, I’m just struggling.

I’ve wanted 2023 to be a fresh start, but 2022’s parting blow combined with everything that came before combined with some noisy construction combined with my general anxiety combined with this new fear I have that things will fall apart if given the opportunity (wait, that’s still anxiety, isn’t it?), it’s all got me distracted and frustrated and really out of sorts. I’m just sad. I’m sad, and I’m stressed, and I’m worried. Not sure what I’m worried about, but I am.

So, for today, I’m going to read, drink some tea, try to focus on resting my mind and my heart, and think about writing and short stories and such tomorrow. In the meantime, you can do me a favor:

Send me some recommendations for happy-making things. Your favorite books, movies, and music, board games and card games that make you smile, activities that always leave you feeling better, little moments you try to take for yourself – whatever makes you happy when you need it, leave it in a comment below. Because I need all the help I can get.

I know things will be better soon. I just hope soon means soon.

Imagining the Unimaginable

This is not a book review.

For one thing, I don’t really do those, and for another, I haven’t finished the book yet. But I started reading Imaginable by Jane McGonigal yesterday, and I’m finding it really interesting so far.

I have anxiety. I don’t talk about it a lot, but it is something I’m dealing with. I tend to catastrophize when I’m stressed, and I fight off invasive thoughts – especially about the future and what I can and can’t do about it – all the time. Not as often as I used to, but still pretty often.

Like many people, these last couple of years have been a challenge for me. And with the news coming out of Ukraine, the state of American politics, the very real threat of climate change, and just the general list of “unknowns” that we as humans have to accept every second of every day, it’s easy for me to get bogged down in desperation and hopelessness. I’m a positive person, and I look for and work for good things, but man, it’s hard sometimes.

So when I came across Imaginable, I was immediately intrigued. McGonigal is a professional futurist (what a cool job!) and a game designer (also a cool job!), and the combination of those two fields makes for a really compelling exploration of how to imagine possible futures, how to think about the unthinkable, and how to then cope with it and get our minds around it.

I have a big imagination. It works for me creatively, but can definitely lead me down some dark alleys and scary paths when my anxiety decides to join the party. I’m really looking forward to diving into this book more deeply. I’m about three chapters in, and I’m hooked. I expect to finish it today.

And if you read it, too, let me know your thoughts!

Write a poem in 250 characters or less! (Or, let me tell you about my impostor syndrome.)

Last year, I wrote a poem for Button Poetry’s Short Form Contest. I liked the poem I wrote, though it didn’t win. It later became “Unrequited,” and I’m quite proud of it.

As of last year, I’d never entered any of my creative writing into any contest, ever. Not even in college, when I sat on the editorial board of a literary magazine and could have easily, albeit not entirely fairly, included one of my pieces in the publication. (I wouldn’t have done that. I promise.) I’ve always been timid about my own work.

I realize that I have major impostor syndrome. I’ve never published anything, and I’m terrified to submit my writing to agents and publishers. I’m always far more impressed with what I read from others than with what I write myself. I feel, often, like my creative work is clunky, dull, trite, and uninspired. Not always, but often. It can be discouraging, maddening, and sometimes, debilitating.

To be clear, I’m not looking for sympathy. I think this is a battle many creative people fight every day. Some days, I win. Some days, I…stare at a blank screen and procrastinate and (not infrequently) cry, and I definitely don’t win. But on the good days, when everything comes together, I feel like I’ve made magic, and that keeps me working – through the fear, through the doubt, through the impostor syndrome. And I see that you can’t be an impostor in your own life.

The Short Form Contest requires a submission of 250 characters or less. That’s characters, not words. It can be a poem on its own, or an excerpt from a larger piece. When I discovered the contest last year, I felt…I don’t know, compelled to enter. 250 characters? I wouldn’t feel that bad being rejected over 250 characters. Very few people can do something amazing with 250 characters, right? And so, I entered the contest, knowing my poem wouldn’t be selected, and I felt good. It felt amazing just to put something out there.

So, I entered again this year, with a poem inspired by one of my mom’s favorite books, Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Richard Bach. (I’m helping my mom start her own business, and she was on my mind.)

I like my poem less than last year’s, but I put it out there, because why not? And I feel good. Maybe I’ll enter some other contests this year, or even submit work to some publications or agents. Maybe this is the year. We’ll see, and until then, I’ll keep writing. I hope, if you’re struggling, you keep writing (or creating whatever you create), too.

Oh, and if you want to read the poem I submitted this year, here it is. Enjoy!

**********

You should have known

I am more than the wings you tried to clip

I am more than meant to fly

You should have known

I am too much to trap and tether

and you are too small to try

Seagull 6

Little Things

Today I will dust the china.

It is the smallest

something

I can do when I am powerless.

I have said goodbye this year to:

Family

Friends

Routine and Work

and Feeling Safe.

I have said enough of goodbye this year to fill a book with just the word,

over, and over, and page after page.

I am tired of goodbye.

So today I will dust the china, because I can,

because there is at least a little power in little things.

And perhaps, tomorrow, I will weed the garden.

China