How Do You Know Whether You Can "Make It" as a Writer?

Many writers out there who specialize in content that helps others be better people are super friendly and really hands-on as far as forming a personal connection with their readers. They're good about answering their email promptly and always have a minute to chat over instant message. In other words, they're experts at forming friendships with the people who read their things. As you may or may not have noticed, I'm really not one of those writers.

One of the criticisms I've received most consistently from people who know me is that I'm distant and hard to get to know, and I really can't argue with that assessment. I'm not kidding in the least when I describe myself as introverted to the point of being reclusive. I've never been a very chatty person as far as one-on-one communication goes, even on the internet. However, I've been trying to make up for that by posting more content that directly answers some of the questions people ask me the most. 

Aside from how to get started as a writer in the first place, this is by far the question I'm asked the most often. Chances are you already know the answer deep down, but if you genuinely don't, get honest with yourself as to how you'd answer the following questions.

Do you genuinely like writing, or do you just want to have written something?

I assure you they're not the same thing. I've known so many people who love the idea of having published books or a successful blog to point to but don't really enjoy the act of writing. So, how do you feel about it? When you find yourself with spare time on your hands, is your natural response to go, "oh, good, I can do some writing," or do you spend the next several hours of your life binge-watching Netflix like everyone else? Is writing something that brings you joy or a chore that you secretly dread?

A Very Big Win for Cat

So earlier in the month, I felt a little bit inspired on a random Sunday morning and popped off a new Medium article after weeks of just focusing on my freelancing for a while. It was an advice article aimed at younger people in their 20's, filled with all the things I wish at 44 that I'd understood at their age. It did pretty well initially -- enough to make me happy. It got curated, as well as picked up for publication by The Post-Grad Survival Guide -- very cool things that I was proud of and grateful for, but nothing that hasn't happened to a bunch of my other articles so far.

Then a couple of days ago, the damn thing started going bananas and blowing up all of a sudden. At this point, it's accumulated tens of thousands of views, reads, and claps. It's even eclipsed the initial success of that first article I published over there -- the big "beginner's luck" win I've been trying to duplicate for the past six months -- so I'm super excited. This means a very badly needed chunk of money in my account next month, as well as plenty of exposure for my work that I probably need even more. (I am trying to make fetch happen, after all.)

I think the most gratifying part of this may be the feedback I've gotten from other people. Sure, there are always a couple of trolls who feel the need to swoop in and criticize what you wrote or just be salty in general because they're big mad they're not in your shoes. The great majority of these folks who reached out to me were kind, supportive, and sweet as far as the things they wrote though. People tweeted me, they emailed me, they added me all across all my social media platforms, and they thanked me for what I wrote because it resonated with them. That sort of thing is very humbling and validating for someone like me, as all I've ever wanted in life was to be heard. 

Many Departures

I never feel like I have that much going on in my life until I actually sit down to blog when it's been a while. It really makes me realize the extent to which time flies. My cat died not long after my last post. She was on the older side and hadn't been doing that well for a while, so it wasn't completely unexpected. It managed to be wholly devastating anyway though. 

I'm not the sort of person that supports wallowing in emotions like grief or disappointment -- or at least not to the point where it starts to feel like it's doing you more harm than good -- but I can't lie. This has been really hard for me. I've had many pets over the years, but Ched was just special. She's pretty much the only living being I've ever known that I can honestly say never seemed to feel anything toward me but love. It's done me so much good to know that any living thing could really embrace me unconditionally like that because it's certainly more than I can say for even the best humans in my life.

And as tough as it can be to feel sad for the loss of both big and little souls that touch lives, I've realized there's a positive side to grief. It's your proof that you experienced someone and something worth missing. I've literally had whole-ass family members and so-called good friends exit this planet without eliciting so much as a tear from me, let alone full-force grief, but looking back on those relationships, I'm not surprised. They were never there for me. They never laughed with me or cried with me. They never actually acted like they loved me or cared about being part of my life. And to be honest, the feeling was mutual. 

I know a lot of animals are unconditionally loving and loyal -- one reason I've always preferred them to people -- but Ched was that to an unusual degree. She did nothing but love me, even when I got frustrated, irritated, or downright angry with her. I worry that I wasn't always as nice to her as she deserved, but I'm sure she had to have known how loved she was regardless. I tried to show her as much as I could and to the extent that I know how. 

On the Departure of a Former Friend and Continued Writing Success

The passage of time is a really weird thing, especially when it comes to other people that are part of your life to varying degrees. The older I become and the more I change with the years, the less connected I feel to the people I used to know on whatever level. I've never been the most social person in my offline life, but I was relatively communicative and friendly online for a long while. Probably why changes in my online social life spark more reflection on this front.

I'm especially confused by a lot of my friendships with other women, both online and off. Most women are socialized to be a lot less direct and straightforward than men, so I'm never quite sure where I stand with a lot of them. There have always been at least a few who seem really conflicted as far as how they feel about me. I'll pick up on definite interest and admiration, but also an undercurrent of something darker. Jealousy or resentment, maybe. Something competitive gone completely sour.

I often feel like such acquaintances are secretly rooting for me to fail, especially if their goals and dreams for themselves intersect with mine at all, as if there's a limited amount of success to go around and they feel I'm getting more than my share. I never know what to do about people that give off that vibe -- that they don't root for me to win or cheer for me when I do. I don't like feeling like people I know are sitting around wishing evil or misfortune into my life, but I also feel like I'm not patient enough with people and cut others off way too quickly. I'm trying to be less like that, especially as I get older, so more often than not, I just let people hang around, but distance myself to stay off of their radar as much as possible.

This morning, I noticed that one of these women apparently unfriended me on Facebook over the weekend. I haven't been posting anything inflammatory lately, nor have I been leaving ambiguous comments on her posts, so I don't think the reason was anything like that. She was in the habit of leaving odd comments on some of my posts that made me feel like she resents a lot of the personal progress I've been making though -- especially when it comes to things like selfies, beauty posts, or workout/health updates. This person had been on the wagon for a while herself with all of that stuff, but she started backsliding badly around the time my own progress was becoming really visible, and I think she resents that.

Not Just Another Bloody Mary

"Sea of Thoughts" -- Lindsay Rapp

Why do I do this -- forget about regularly hashing out my thoughts and recording my life in a format more substantial than a tweet or a Facebook status update? It's my knee-jerk reaction to say I've just gotten too lazy about my personal writing, but there are other times where I'm aware that maybe I just don't "need" journaling to the same extent I used to. I may finally be growing up in a way I once thought I never could or would. A possibility that is both wonderful and sad all at the same time.

Since I last updated this past March, my life has continued along the same path for better or worse. Things are still very much the same with my mother, her health, and her apparent lack of desire to regain her independence. That depresses me deeply, if I'm going to be very honest. So many people would have loved to receive the second chance she got, but will never get it. Meanwhile, she's just wasting hers. Growing fatter, lazier, and more complacent by the day. No effort made to repair anything in her life, including all of her broken relationships.

I'm still working very hard to be different from that. When I was a little girl, I used to look forward to summer vacations just like every other kid. However, I loved spending mine improving myself for some reason. Summers were a time for me to see how many books I could read, draw all the pictures I could, learn new symphonies on the piano, and undertake all sorts of fun little personal writing projects. Lately, I feel like I'm that little girl again, only all of the time, as opposed to just over the summers. I'm voraciously hungry for self-improvement again, and I am loving every second of it. Especially since I can finally tackle all these little challenges I set for myself with the focus of a 40-something. It's a really interesting combination of energies and one that is very new to me.

"I'll See You Again in 25 Years..."

Romy and Michelle were my spirit animals back then.

My 25-year high school reunion is apparently coming up. How that could be, I don't know. On the one hand, high school really does feel like a lifetime ago, but on the other, I truly don't feel like it's a literal quarter-century in the past. Part of me wishes I could say that I'm going, but I'm pretty realistic with myself and with others these days as far as what can be expected of me socially.

Years ago, after I'd graduated but while high school was still really fresh in my mind, I used to fantasize about going to one of these damned things at some point and just blowing everyone right the fuck away. (Think Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion, but without the best friend.) But then my 10-year rolled around at a point where, much like Romy or Michelle, I was really worried about how my life might look from the outside looking in. I looked really good and I wasn't saddled with a million kids the way so many other people from my graduating class were, but I was still working retail -- something I was very ashamed of at the time, especially considering how smart I was always considered to be. Plus I was still married to Greg, not to mention profoundly unhappy with the marriage by 2004 or so. The person that he was embarrassed me deeply, and I was ashamed of myself for settling for a relationship that didn't meet a single one of my personal needs.

I didn't want to have to face these people and tell them that. That the smart, creative "whiz kid" everyone thought was going places ultimately wound up selling shoes at Macy's and was married to some weird, boring man who was old enough to be her father. Not only did I skip the reunion entirely because of those things, but I remember living in constant fear of running into people I used to know around town, because I didn't want them to see how my life had turned out.

New Year, Same Me (But Better)

Our Wonderful New Year's Day Dinner

So I guess it's official. Another year has been and gone, but it's different this time. This past year was perhaps the first year of my entire life that saw me truly and deliberately growing toward being the person I actually want to be. I have twelve months to look back on that I spent being determined, responsible, and dedicated to self-improvement and I like the way it feels. I definitely plan on continuing along that path in 2019 so that I can feel that way again next New Year's and hopefully every New Year's to follow.

Speaking of New Year's, I had a wonderful relaxing holiday yesterday. For dinner, I made us this delicious ham I got from ButcherBox with black-eyed peas, country greens, and mac on the side. I took the day off and spent the great majority of it relaxing. The latest and last season of A Series of Unfortunate Events went up on Netflix, so Seth and I started that, as well as continued with our rewatch of Mad Men. I spent some time working on my language lessons. The ColourPop palettes I ordered during their after-Christmas sale arrived on New Year's Eve, so I created a very pretty (and contemporary)  look with those after my morning workout as well. It was a great day and a terrific way to start a brand new year.

........

The more I continue to work on my health and my looks, the more I'm getting back to being my old self again. Part of that has actually meant being more social (at least online) and actually talking to people again the way I used to. In many ways, that's been great. I've found some great groups online where I can talk to other people that are into things I'm really interested in at this point in my life (e.g. fitness, beauty, tarot, or astrology).

June Musings in Triplicate

The Treachery of Images - Rene Magritte (1928-29)

As always, time continues to fly without my apparently noticing, but for once it's not necessarily a bad thing. In just a little over a week, I'll have reached my six-month milestone as far as my decision to improve my health goes. Six months of mindful eating with intermittent fasting. Six months of working out every single weekday without fail. I've lost close to 40 pounds since New Year's Day, so I'm about where I hoped I'd be with my weight loss journey by halfway through the year. I've been building muscle, strength, and stamina. A couple of weeks ago, I also started wearing a latex waist trainer when I work out to help support my abs and encourage my waist to tighten up a little bit -- another little something that's been helping me make steady progress toward my goals.

At this rate, I expect to be very happy with where I'm at by the end of the year. Two years from now, I wouldn't be at all surprised if I'm actually able to look in the mirror without seeing a single thing I don't like about my body composition. That will be absolutely amazing, as I haven't been able to say I like my body in many years. I've never been able to say I'm 100% happy with it, so that's something I'm looking forward to for sure, especially since I'm in my 40's now. I'll take my ego boosts where I can get them.

This is hardly just a vanity thing for me though. Everything that's been going on with my mother over the past year has really changed my attitude toward self-care and fitness. She's taken terrible care of herself pretty much the entire time I've been alive. She's always been as lazy and sedentary as her responsibilities would allow her to be. She's very overweight and has a terrible relationship with food. For a long time, she had just as terrible a relationship with alcohol as well. I honestly always just thought of that as her business until she ran her health into the ground to the point where she couldn't really take care of herself anymore.

Out with the Old, In with the New

Every so often in life, I appear to arrive at a kind of... social crossroads, for lack of a better way to describe it. At first, I just find I have trouble relating to my friends groups to the same extent I once did. Then I start noticing myself becoming actively irritated with individual members of those groups, usually because something they do, say, or think seems immature or unreasonable on one level or another. Then one day I just wake up in a state of active disgust with nearly everyone I know from that group and just want to be permanently rid of most of them.

That gradual process of disillusionment is what eventually caused me to realize I'd outgrown the friends I'd had throughout my teenage years, as well as most of my core family. It's what made me want to jettison myself from the online art community years ago, not to mention cut ties with almost everyone that even remembered I used to make digital art. Now it's officially happened with that group of LiveJournal people I used to be so tight with. I'm just sick to death of how petty, and gossipy, and childish they all are.

These are feelings I'd been aware of for quite some time. However, the whole David incident was what really dragged them out into the open. I'm not the sort of person that takes kindly to another person's decision to ignore my wishes and just hop right over any boundaries I might have set, but that's exactly what David eventually decided to do. Right after I removed and blocked him on every social media platform I could think of, he went out of his way to track me down and tweet me on Twitter, the one place I'd forgotten he had an account and failed to enforce a block. Then at some point yesterday, I got another message from him basically begging for another chance at friendship. I had previously responded to the tweet with a brief explanation as to why I didn't want to be friends anymore, but I didn't dignify yesterday's follow-up message with a response at all. I'm only going to tell you once.

Apocalypse Orange

When there are forest fires in the area, it's not uncommon for the smoke to migrate into the surrounding cities, even those that aren't but so close by. Right now, there are fires in Big Sur. That's definitely close enough to have made our skies apocalypse orange for the past couple of days. That photo there is what the view outside our window is like right now. It's not edited or doctored in any way. Everything really does look like it's in sepia tone right now. The colors are all wrong. You can't smell anything but smoke.

I think it's giving me anxiety or something. The orange sky thing was in full effect when I woke up yesterday and wouldn't stop reminding me of Mad Max. (I wound up with an unexpected day off yesterday, as I was waiting for a client to get back to me with details on an assignment. We actually watched Mad Max: Fury Road on HBO.)

I didn't sleep well last night either. Lots of really weird dreams about the end of the world, messed up weather, and so forth -- definitely phobias of mine. I feel really off today as a result, as I do every so often for no real reason. I never know if feelings like that are actually coming from me or if I'm picking them up somehow from other people I know, either offline or online. I wish I had a better understanding of where my emotions actually come from, but I've gotten really used to drawing a blank by now.

I Am

I really find myself wondering sometimes where the people of substance are online these days, especially those of a creative nature. I know way too many writers, artists, filmmakers, and so forth that seem to care more about creating a facade to hide behind than they do about creating really good art. I don't get that. When I think of professions that lead to tons of admirers and money to wipe your ass with, I don't think of any of the arts. It really does feel like "I want to be an artist" is becoming code for "I have no marketable skills, nor do I want to work for a living, but I don't want to admit to either of those things". 

Whenever that realization occurs to me, I become aware of how rare it is to have accomplished the things that I have. Not only do I have real skills and real ideas, but I've actually found a way to make those things marketable. And I'm not even close to being done yet. There are so many places I can see myself taking my creativity in the future and I actually have a good idea of how to make successes of those endeavors as well. So many of these sham artists have no idea how to do the same. No wonder I have haters. 

On Relationships and Reflection

I feel like I've been conversing with a lot of friends about the topic of relationships lately. I've been in my own relationship for nearly 11 years at this point, so I tend to forget how tough things can be when you're still in the process of looking for your person. In particular, I forget how bad a relationship with the wrong person can make you start to feel about yourself.

I have an acquaintance I follow via what's left of my LiveJournal friends list and the situation she's in reminds me so much of how things were with Shawn. Shawn was probably one of the first men I felt really, truly passionately about in my life. He also turned out to be one of the most horrible, abusive human beings I've met to date. When I'm honest with myself, I have to admit that after my relationship with him, I wasn't ever the same open, giving, trusting person I used to be again, even after many years. That's probably for the best considering how many selfish individuals I tend to attract into my life, but still. It's hard not to regret the loss of a part of you that was innocent, and generous, and trusting.

Lots of people can make you feel self-conscious about your hobbies, your goals, or your personal habits. Shawn somehow made me feel self-conscious about who I was on a core level. He hated that I was introverted and thought quality was more important than quantity when it came to friends. He hated that I read and liked to learn. He hated that I wasn't more driven and success-oriented. He hated that I was still trying to figure out what I believed spiritually and socially even though I was only 21 or 22 at the time. He really hated that I was a sensitive person that felt things deeply. Being steeped in that environment for even one of my most impressionable years of my life changed me forever.