Crash/Burn…And All That Jazz
Avoid cliches like the plague.
Those who construct language (aka writers such as myself) heed this warning well. After all, cliches are unoriginal. Overused. Exaggerated at times. There are occasions, however, when I agree with Mrs. Who that quoting the wisdom of others is the best way to express something otherwise “too difficult to verbalise” myself.
The weekend presented me with many rejections. Opportunities that I’ve patiently waited weeks to hear back from, only to crash-and-burn when follow-up conversations brought sour news. Why do I continuously set myself up for such disappointment? I’ve grown used to the concept over my life (it’s been my middle name for so long). Why not accept failure now while hope has been kicked to the ground? Take the “easy street” and accept as my home the pathetic pit whence there’s no escape.
Perseverence. Indomitability. Big words to describe a simple state of stubbornness. The inability to give up because allowing failure to define the self contradicts the personality lingering inside. I like to see it as martial arts invading my life, enriching it by dissuading defeat.
Regardless of the determination that’s developed in me over the years, I can’t help but cave to momentary bouts of discouragement from this Dense Fog. Many people offer kind words. Few actually add fuel to the fire (unintentional cliche usage). Neither aids my emotions during these times, which often reflects poorly on my attitude, pulling me deeper into the shadows.
Thankfully the years have also taught me how to rise up from the flames. Several methods cause that brief loss of hope to drain from my blood: quotes from people I admire, sparring/exercise, forcing productivity.
The best way to drag myself out of a slump is to work through that slump. Okay, so I’ve been rejected. I give myself a moment to cry, then tackle the fifteen other applications on my list. I’m still frustrated by the lack of visible progress, but look! the frustration made the pile of others disappear.
I’m behind the rest, but I’m still in the game. Still fighting for survival and waiting for that fight to pay off.
While all manner of quotes continue to lift my spirits, I rely on one specifically these days: “People told me, when I was coming through the ranks, that a mark of a great [actor] is one who deals with the period of unemployment as well as they deal with the period of employment.” (Claudia Black) Wisdomous words! Though they speak of actors, I see it as a reflective statement for all artists, including writers.
Why waste time being negative? There’s always that lapse, that bout of pity that rushes through the veins, but it’s in the act of returning to my feet with my head held high that proves I’m the worthy victor.
Rather than moping around, I choose to take advantage of not having a career (for the moment). Lots of free time and plenty to do. Staying busy keeps me focused on my goals.
Writing is a time-consuming process. If I wish to succeed, I must wake up every day with the intention of getting something accomplished. One word, one sentence, one paragraph. Doesn’t matter as long as it’s something. Writing cover letters for jobs, e-mails to friends, forum messages, status updates. Doesn’t matter, as long as my fingers type and words appear. Brain spins, mind turns.
Exercise. As a martial artist, getting in shape and staying in shape is crucial to performance. It’s also one of my 2010 goals to maintain a healthier lifestyle. I’ve done well so far, especially since ditching my biggest vice.
Occupation. Volunteer-work, internships, part-time jobs. Experience and pocket cash trump pessimism in my opinion. I have goals, I’m just taking baby steps to get to those goals. Until then, I’m learning what I can and saving what I can while doing what I can to speed the process.
Rewind, Hold Up! Start Again?
Learning never ends. A concept I’ve grown fond of over the years. Regardless, my career in an academic setting is finally at an end (unless I pursue graduate school). So much time and money invested in a collegiate education, yet it’s only now as graduation looms that I catch a glimpse of where I want to go.
Is that right?
Idealistically, the “Big Revelation” should’ve happened when I was a freshman. In need of a clear head and eager to pursue classes suited to my needs.
Too late, time’s up, trod on.
As freshmen, my peers and I had a “welcome to college” class requirement. One assignment asked for a self-description of our lives in X-years. Even though I didn’t have specifics, there were vague ideas that had developed over the years. College was my ticket to the world, the step between branch and sky. A home, a job, and hopefully a family. Realistic enough, I suppose. Except four years later, I sit in a fog denser than I ever imagined.
What happened to my childhood certainty of being a veterinarian? Doing something I loved by working with animals. (okay: that dream left when I realised I’m too emotionally sensitive for such a field)
In Disney’s The Kid, Bruce Willis’s character holds a conversation with Jean Smart’s about childhood dreams. They talk about how people grow up and dreams evolve into a more realistic sense of what must get done in order to make a living. The astronaut, the prima ballerina–they get stuffed in a closet to collect dust and be forgotten. But why should dreams suffer for the sake of an income?
Chase it! Make it work!
That’s how you evaluate success. Fight for what matters, and enjoy the journey. It’ll be rough–depressing at times. But it beats falling into a routine and rotting with dissatisfaction.
Before college, I was full of certainty. Now I don’t even know where I’ll be in a couple of weeks. I don’t know what’s in store for my future, but I’m open to whatever comes my way. Ideas stampede toward me, and I continue writing.
Always writing.
Positive Compulsion
Last night was the ‘Thank God It’s Over’ (TGIO) party for my NaNoWriMo region.
2009 has been the most inspirational year out of the three I’ve participated in thus far. There’s a liveliness and camaraderie I missed before. For the first time probably in my life, I’m with a group of like-minded individuals and I genuinely feel accepted, embraced for all my quirkiness (in this case, the norm).
Our regional leader gave a brief speech that reassures my goals as a writer. She reminded us that the events of November are a fun activity for anyone, but added that those who want to pursue the art of writing need to make a full commitment. Be compulsive! Write every day, regardless of the quality. Make sure thoughts get put on paper (or screen).
Typical pep-talk heard within most writing communities (at least the ones I’ve been around). A mantra that drives me as I grow in my skills and realise it’s the only way to achieve success.
Quality has hindered my progress in the past. For sure, it’s the reason I don’t already have a lot of finished projects. I have NaNo to thank for pulling me out of the quality quicksand. Three years later, I have the confidence to pull ahead and get the words out, leaving the tweaks and revision for later. It’s refreshing to be conscious of progress, though I know there’s still miles of work ahead for me. Despite all that, I look forward to off-season revision meet-ups with my regional mates.
Next year starts my journey into novel publication. It’s something I should’ve started years ago, but life always insists I stay on the opposite shore.
(funny how life enjoys doing that)
No more! say I. It’s time to get my foot in the door and attempt to survive in the world the only way I know how: through my imagination.
