Chasing Joy to cure the February Blues
My heaven on earth is the Hit Parade Club in Beppu, Japan. It brought me the exact kind of joy that matches my soul. It was all cheese. Fabulously so. Reminiscent of a Las Vegas entertainment venue circa 1954, the front of the building had a bright red and blue facade with a vintage lit-up marquee. There was a large stage set up as the focal point at the front of the main room, with round vinyl dining booths facing the stage in a semi-circle, stacked three rows high. Between the seats and the stage was a large parquet dance floor.
$30 bought all-you-can-eat and drink, and a full show set to tunes from Elvis, Johnny B. Goode, Brenda Lee and the like. Every singer dressed perfectly to fill the parts in bright vintage costumes. I remember being totally transfixed when the band members responded to some hidden cue and scurried off to their instruments, the two male singers grabbing guitars and the girl, dressed in a red and teal polka-dot dress with hair in a high ponytail, grabbed a microphone and began to sway against the backdrop of the familiar chords of “My boyfriend’s back."
A mass of people, seemingly having climbed out of the woodwork, spilled onto the dance floor in front of the stage and sorted themselves into orderly rows that filled the entire floor space. They all seemed to know some common set of moves and jived in near-perfect unison, taking their cues from the poodle skirt girl. The mood was frenetic, life-affirming and infectious. Pure Joy.
A mass of people, seemingly having climbed out of the woodwork, spilled onto the dance floor in front of the stage and sorted themselves into orderly rows that filled the entire floor space. They all seemed to know some common set of moves and jived in near-perfect unison, taking their cues from the poodle skirt girl. The mood was frenetic, life-affirming and infectious. Pure Joy.
February Lull
It's late February, and with it comes a bit of a life lull and some dark days. All that new year momentum and glitter has faded to the background, and what's left is the work involved in achieving the goals that formed the basis of those ambitious New Year's resolutions. Besides keeping my chin above water in the day job, and cycling through almost an endless stream of dates, I'm trying to dive deep into spending some serious time figuring out how to publish my book, trying to establish other writing credits so agents/publishers give me a second look, and exploring avenues for self-publishing.
Writing the book seems so easy in retrospect because the next steps were always so evident. Just write the next chapter. Then the next. Get it all down. Edit later. This phase is a whole different story. So many unknowns. just testing out a bunch of different things with no obvious steps or endgame.
I finally felt ready at the end of 2019 to start reaching out to agents (as publishers now don't often accept unsolicited materials). This felt like the next right step. The early days with no rejection is a beautiful time. But then months pass with no response. And even though you told yourself from the start that it was a long shot, that not hearing back or getting rejected is par for the course, it still hurts. Because you just want to tell the story, and it feels like no one wants to hear it.
I'm not entirely used to rejection because I usually go for the things that are sure bets. I play it safe and often follow the path of least resistance. It's one of the reasons I went into business instead of writing or drama in university. Because I knew I could find a job and do moderately well based on the general meritocracy of the business world. These things were not so sure in the creative arts. And I wanted to be able to have some certainty around supporting myself.
So this new experience of rejection is forcing me to dig deep and find my reserves to continue to move forward despite feeling like giving up (again because...February blues).
I also want to work more on the whole "think this, not that" recommendation. For example, instead of thinking:
"No one is buying travel memoirs right now, certainly not from unknown authors."
Think this:
"As a new author, I bring a new voice and a fresh passion. I've worked hard on getting this book to a good place, and it just takes connecting with one agent or publisher to get things moving. And if no one is interested in the end, I'm going to throw one hell of a self-publishing party. Because I wrote a book party people!"
Try it on some negative thought you keep playing broken-record style. It does help!
Of course, my whole reason for going to Japan, and one of the major themes of the book, was chasing joy and escaping other less exciting things. This obviously came at the expense of dealing with life stuff, at least in the short term. And it caught up with me. There's no long-term way to get out of facing the hard stuff. And a lot of difficult work goes into achieving important goals. There still needs to be a balance.
But I need a bit of joy these days, so I'm going to give myself a break and chase it when I need to. And in terms of book publishing, I'll continue to suspend disbelief. Be the right mix (I hope) of confident and humble (because the advice I've received around approaching agents has come on both ends of this spectrum). Faking it until it feels right or I gather enough rejections and experience in this new world to gather some hard-earned confidence and a tougher shell.
I finally felt ready at the end of 2019 to start reaching out to agents (as publishers now don't often accept unsolicited materials). This felt like the next right step. The early days with no rejection is a beautiful time. But then months pass with no response. And even though you told yourself from the start that it was a long shot, that not hearing back or getting rejected is par for the course, it still hurts. Because you just want to tell the story, and it feels like no one wants to hear it.
I'm not entirely used to rejection because I usually go for the things that are sure bets. I play it safe and often follow the path of least resistance. It's one of the reasons I went into business instead of writing or drama in university. Because I knew I could find a job and do moderately well based on the general meritocracy of the business world. These things were not so sure in the creative arts. And I wanted to be able to have some certainty around supporting myself.
So this new experience of rejection is forcing me to dig deep and find my reserves to continue to move forward despite feeling like giving up (again because...February blues).
Fighting the Lull
Last year I did Mel Robbin's mindset reset, and I highly recommend it for getting your head out of a blue spot. You can find my blog post on it here. The piece of advice that she gave that I'm struggling with most is "assuming positive intent." I get my head wrapped in knots thinking about what other people mean when they do or say the things they do. Assuming positive intent and letting things go is a much saner way to approach things.I also want to work more on the whole "think this, not that" recommendation. For example, instead of thinking:
"No one is buying travel memoirs right now, certainly not from unknown authors."
Think this:
"As a new author, I bring a new voice and a fresh passion. I've worked hard on getting this book to a good place, and it just takes connecting with one agent or publisher to get things moving. And if no one is interested in the end, I'm going to throw one hell of a self-publishing party. Because I wrote a book party people!"
Try it on some negative thought you keep playing broken-record style. It does help!
Chasing Joy
I have a friend whose mantra right now is chasing joy. Looking for those moments that produce joy and, similar to "doing the next 'right' thing," she's doing the next joyful thing. I love this idea. For me, this doesn't mean just going for the sweet treat, or legendary experience, but finding joy in the hard stuff. Writing in cafes that are beautiful. Enjoying the fresh air on the walk to the cafe. Taking breaks to stand in the warm sun in my office. Enjoying the hot water of my shower (remembering how lucky and grateful I am that I live a life that allows me to have a hot shower). Relishing that amazing feeling that results from an idea that comes from an inspired place and puts you in a moment of flow. And of course, more often than not, having that chocolate chip cookie (though I need to moderate this one a bit, because beautiful cafes all seem to have sea salt chocolate chip cookies, and they go down pretty damn well).Of course, my whole reason for going to Japan, and one of the major themes of the book, was chasing joy and escaping other less exciting things. This obviously came at the expense of dealing with life stuff, at least in the short term. And it caught up with me. There's no long-term way to get out of facing the hard stuff. And a lot of difficult work goes into achieving important goals. There still needs to be a balance.
But I need a bit of joy these days, so I'm going to give myself a break and chase it when I need to. And in terms of book publishing, I'll continue to suspend disbelief. Be the right mix (I hope) of confident and humble (because the advice I've received around approaching agents has come on both ends of this spectrum). Faking it until it feels right or I gather enough rejections and experience in this new world to gather some hard-earned confidence and a tougher shell.
What do you do to snap out of the trance that arises out of the February lull?
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