“We age very quickly out here. I and all the others are about a hundred years old. We’ll never be the same again. ”
Well, CODE NAME BADASS is out in the wild . 🎉Four years of the joy and burden and confusion and terror and wonder and pride and despair and hope of this book has culminated in something that can go from my hands to yours.
I never felt like more of a badass and a dumbass simultaneously while writing this book - and I actually think that might be a sweet spot for creativity.
Beginner's mind + audacity = Badassery
Have a think on that and see if it's true for you.
Below is an excerpt of the audiobook of Badass - what say you? I'm in love. 😍
Artist Burnout: No, you’re not crazy
I put that Virginia Hall quote at the top because it made me think about myself as a professional writer, and all of you - whether you are published or not.
We writers age quickly, don't we? It's rough out here.
I'm reading William Deresiewicz's The Death of the Artist, which is true and painful but also very comforting, in a weird way. I'm not crazy: this world is getting harder and harder for artists to not only make a living, but to make anything at all. PSA: Don't read this book if you're feeling hopeless or low. DO read this book if you're feeling gaslit or totally flummoxed by the gig / artist / publishing / creative economy.
There is a lot of pain in our community - comparison, disappointment, rejection, dry seasons, highs and lows that thrash us about - but I have ways to work with it that I think will help you too.
One of the main struggles I and the writers I work with share is time poverty. And part of that is because of the attention economy (I'm also reading Jenny O'Dell's How To Do Nothing - highly recommend once you've finished Code Name Badass!), which is why my mindfulness for writers and You Have A Process work is so important.
If you think you might need some support - a call, a process inventory, longer mentorship - it might be a good time to consider some writing support from yours truly.
Part of the reason it's so hard to get to the writer's seat, to stay in it, or to maintain hope is the fact that we do age very quickly out here. The shine is off the apple. Writing and publishing is fucking hard, it just is.
Are You Putting The Cart Before The Horse?
So many writers only attend to craft, but that's actually the smallest part of the writer's job. The biggest part is all the shadow work, the inner work, the discipline, the mindset. That's not to say craft and story isn't hella important - it just means that there is way too much time given to that by writers who don't even know what their process is, what to do when they are stuck, or who haven't set up the conditions for flow and productivity.
Are you putting the cart before the horse?
Here's one thing I know: Being vulnerable and open about our struggles while at the same time holding fast to why we write in the first place and creating more inner expansiveness is a good way to feel a little less run down.
The above picture of me was taken by my husband a few days ago. I'm working on a new book - an adult novel about war correspondents - so we took the Annie Liebowitz Masterclass. He was playing with light. I was playing with trust. Openness. The belief that I deserve a seat at this table and that I am perfectly capable of making my own damn table if need be. The confidence to look directly into the camera and not blink. To not apologize for my presence. And giving us both the opportunity to experience presence.
This month's word is GALLANT and during our free workshop for this week's Second Sunday Well Gathering - be sure to register - we'll be getting into what being gallant looks like. (If you’re reading this after the fact, or can’t attend, you can access the workshop through my newsletter subscription on my Well Archives page).
What would be brave for YOU? How do YOU express courage?
We can't all be kickass spies like Virginia Hall, but there is so much I've learned from her about ignoring people who say no and doggedly moving forward toward that which calls you. Her ending wasn't necessarily a happy one - the no's kept coming all the way up until she retired from the CIA - but she managed to do so much more than she ever would have if she'd settled. If she'd told herself no.
When is the last time you told yourself no?
What would it feel like to say yes? To expansiveness, to time, to words, to stepping away from the burned-out-ness of online culture?
Thank all the gods for women like Virginia Hall, who give us someone to look to when we're not sure if we can be gallant.
Here’s lookin’ at you, kid.
