The Thursday! Newsletter 1-8: My Guides, Explained
Volume 1, Issue 8
Can we stop hanging off the cliff now?
Yes, I think we can. The last thing I want to do is leave 2020 dangling, unresolved, even though I'm almost positive we could wring a meaningful essay out of the notion that 2020 was stuffed full of unfulfilled promises. And flaming bags of poo. But let's not do that, huh? Everyone else can gripe for the ten billionth time about how horrible the events of last year were. We are not those people. We are looking forward with resolution and perhaps just a little bit of swagger. That's how we walk -- with swagger as various things explode behind us.
And accompanied by the theme from "The A-Team".
Last week, I asked you to pick anywhere from one to three words you would use in 2021 as the lighthouses that would help get you around with minimal crashes into rocky shorelines. I heard from a few of you who, quite honestly, picked such excellent words that I nearly changed mine! I'll get to that shortly, but let me encourage the rest of you to pick your word(s) if you haven't done so. It can help. Honest. If nothing else, giving deep thought to the sort of year you want to have -- distilling that year into just a few words packed full of importance to you -- is a worthwhile exercise. Here's why.
If you want to get to someplace you want to be, you have to go there.
You can not get where you want to be in the way you want to get there by aimless wandering. Random chance is a terrible taxi driver and a shrug doesn't indicate a direction. I know. I lived a large chunk of my life thinking that if I worked hard, followed the rules imposed on me by various authority figures and by society itself, and occasionally expressed my desire to "have something better", someone would hear me and elevate me to a new position. I'd get a promotion or a fantastic financial deal would knock on my door or...something. Whatever. If you asked me what I wanted, I would not have been able to give you a certain answer. If you had asked me why I was living the way I was living, I would have shrugged and said something about how things would surely change.
I knew better, of course. I knew, deep down, that wasn't the way. I was scared out of my gourd to stand up and try something, anything cool and new and certain. If I tried and failed, well, that'd make me a failure, and I was afraid of being a failure more than I was afraid of being homeless, which I very nearly was.
That's something I've never told anyone but a couple people very close to me. Wow. That was a surprise.
Here's the thing. All the time I was scared of failure, I was failing every single day. I dug myself deeper into my hole of obliviousness because I was afraid that if I picked a thing and failed at that thing, folks would notice my failure and think I was a failure. In truth, I wasn't fooling anyone. I'm sure folks noticed that I walked places I wanted to go or asked my Dad for a ride because I didn't have a car. Because I blew what money I made on frivolities because I was scared people would notice how hard I was struggling. Because I was trying to look like what I thought was a normal and regular and put-together grown-up.
All the while, I had no stinking idea what I was doing in my life. None. I was failing everywhere and wandering without direction. I knew it and I was too scared even to yank hard on the emergency brake and ask for help.
These words are help. Small help, to be sure, but help. They can be guideposts by which you pick a direction, even if the direction is not quite right and you have to pick a new one in February. That's okay. Pick another one. Pick one every month. It really is okay. Just get going one way or another. And if you fail, well, then you do. No biggie. You get another try and you don't have to give a single care to anyone who says they're keeping track of your foibles. (Hint: They probably aren't even there and, if they are, they're probably busy failing so hard they won't be able to hear you fail over their own noise.)
Okay. So. Don't ask me where that came from. Honestly, it surprised me more than a little. But maybe it'll provide a little boost at a time when you need it. If not, well, I just embarrassed myself in front of many very good people. Oh well. It won't be the first time!
As for my words, let me give you a little explanation. The words I chose are TOMFOOLERY and SHENANIGANS. You might think of those words as negative. Foolishness ("fool" is right there, right?). Empty goof-off stuff. Under normal circumstances, you're probably be right. But I'm using them in a very specific sense. One of the problems I have with my creative endeavors is that I take them far too seriously. I get overcome with perfectionism and I build up so much stress that, sometimes, it affects my health. What I need is to lighten up. What I need is to treat my writing as fun. After all, none of my stories are going to cure a terrible disease nor stop an alien invasion. They're stories that lighten the heart or stir a deep yearning or...who knows? Maybe they just make a kid laugh somewhere. The point is, I need to remember that creating the things I create is FUN. I need to keep TOMFOOLERY and SHENANIGANS close at hand to remind me that I'm not performing heart surgery. If I can remember that, I'll get a lot more done and stand a much larger chance that some of the things I do will turn out truly great.
I wouldn't mind that at all.
BOOK UPDATE: One Hungry Werewolf and Other Monstrous Poems is proceeding apace. We are still on target for a January 2021 release, though we still don't have a certain date. All the art is done. All the poems are done. Cedar, my co-creator, has started layout and we need to put our heads together on a cover design. As well, I need to hammer out an author bio that fits me well enough and works for a poetry picture book. The book is coming. Make ready!
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Here Are the Arts and/or Letters I Promised...
This is the poster that announced the 1906 French translation of The War of the Worlds illustrated by Henrique Alvim-Correa. Only 500 copies of this edition were ever printed. Were I a wealthy man, I might well go a-questing after one of them.
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Here Are Links, either Useful or Fun!
My friend Felicia came across a bunch of newspapers her Dad saved from the days immediately following President Kennedy's assassination. I found them interesting in a sort of "Ah! So that's what journalism looks like! I remember that" way.
We might still need to remember how to get still and calm. Leo Babauta has the useful practices.
Austin Kleon, who is a creative role model of mine, shared his yearly notebooks and that stick is a goal of mine. Somehow.
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One Last Thing.
If you'd like to talk back to me, encourage me, suggest something you'd like to see or you'd like me to write about, you can always hit the reply button! I can't promise I'll always answer back, because I'm quite forgetful, but I'll read everything you send.
Remember, Thursday! is a constant work in progress. I didn't have a certain plan for what I wanted the newsletter to be when I started, so it'll change as we go along. Let me know what you like so I know I'm getting it right, okay? Okay!