November 20, 2015

Embrace Your Inner Indies

This year has been about searching for a balance. Trying to find a position (often between a rock and a hard place) that allows me a little breathing room. I've run out of a lot of my standard supplies this year. My closet is empty of: patience for unnecessary drama, my ability to take grief from strangers, fucks to give. But I've also revealed an abundance of items I didn't know I had. (I guess that's what happens when you clear out the trash.) Glittering there on the shelves were supplies that surprised me: a desire to stroke the positive, to bask in the happy, to share the glow.

I've learned to say "no" (which took me fucking forever, seriously). And I've worked to say "yes," which can be equally difficult. I swear.

What do I adore?

Photos from readers.
100-word challenges.
The bawdy book club.
Dirty words.
Promoting indie writers.

I'm bringing all of these with me into 2016. Behind, I'm leaving rants about publishing. Passive aggressive anything. Feelings of failure.

Trust me when I say I'm not generally an introspective person. I'm not the opposite, either. I forget to check the mirror to see if my hair looks like Medusa's snakes or not. (Quick aside. I just tried to figure out the antonym of introspective. Turns out, there's not one, other than 'extrospection,' which is the coolest word. Ever.) But I have always kept so busy with deadlines on my shoulders that I never looked up to see what was going on. How could I? Some years I edited twelve collections, wrote multiple novels, penned dozens of stories. "Slow" was not in my vocabulary. "Pause" was not a button I ever pressed.

I've forced myself to make some difficult decisions this year. And I can tell that I'm not done yet. But what I'm most proud of is this: I am aware that wherever this leads, we are on one fuck of an interesting journey.

And you know what? I'm trying to make the most of every passing mile.


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