Is it a cliffhanger if you kind of forget you left it hanging?

Why not.

Ironically, I forgot about sharing my personal writing news because I was busy with professional writing deadlines. But the fact that I couldn’t finish a follow-up post makes all of the other pieces fall into place…

I’ve been writing flash fiction. I’ve always enjoyed having constraints on my writing: timed sessions, word count limits, etc. I’ve enjoyed using those constraints when I taught writing workshops, because students would feel pressured, then be amazed at what they were actually capable.

I need to feel amazed right now. And I need to feel like I still have a creative outlet while not adding something stressful to my plate.

So I’m keeping it lighthearted over at Lightning Flash, aiming to write a short piece every work day, just to flex the muscles. I’m also conducting a more extensive study of the craft of flash, and reading flash written by others, and hope to share inspiration accordingly.

I previously wrote about how I was finally making a living as a writer, but I used it as more of a “Farewell, 2020” post than a substantial update about the state of my own life. But honestly, sometimes all I need to say is: I’m making a living as a writer.

What? I still can’t believe it.

After a long creative dry spell from about May to… December? Mid-January? I figured my priorities had changed. I used to have a dream of being a writer. Like a published writer. And yes, I’ve published a nonfiction book, but my goal has always been to publish a volume of creative work. Or hell, at this point, just to publish creative work in journals and magazines. I used to submit stories from creative writing workshops fairly regularly, but that’s been ten years ago. More, maybe. I’d have to dust off the spreadsheet to double-check.

Anyway, I spent the first month or two of lockdown attending all of the author events I could. I wrote a lot of poetry because I was feeling a lot of emotions. But I never looked at them again. I didn’t edit them or revise them, and I certainly didn’t try to submit them.

I attempted National Novel Writing Month and “won,” technically, but the story is not complete, and it’s not something I want to go back to right now.

Besides that, nothing. I tried to find creative outlets in other paper-centric hobbies, like quilling and book-making, but they didn’t have the same allure as my phone, with news sites constantly being updated and Twitter refreshing every few seconds.

I’m not blaming my lack of progress on the news, though I don’t think it’d be a reach to do so. It was more that I was writing for my “day job,” and while it wasn’t creative writing, it was still words, and it still fulfills me. Add into the mix my new position of becoming an Assistant Managing Editor of Split/Lip Press and I felt pretty damn good. I was writing words and helping promote and publish others. What’s not to love?

So that’s when I figured my priorities had shifted. I didn’t feel the need to publish because I was helping others do the work. And, let’s be honest, all of their stuff blows me away. I’d rather use my skills in a way that will help people, so my jobs right now feel purposeful instead of frivolous.

It’s important for me to be transparent and admit that this revelation about shifting my priorities came, oh… about a week ago? Which is especially interesting, because now… stay tuned.

I know tomorrow is another day, but I’m the type of person who likes the idea of a new year being a fresh start. I think this year we’re all feeling that way, and I also think that by December 31st we’re all sick of people rolling their eyes and wishing 2020 away. Because we’re all living the same thing, even if half (or more?) of the population is in total denial of it. Nothing will change tomorrow, but it feels like a (slightly) brighter start. The light at the end of the tunnel is growing brighter.

This year has been hard for a lot of people. And it’s been devastating for a lot of people. And some people weren’t really affected by anything. I have to check my privilege here, because this year was not terrible for me. I don’t want to push toxic positivity and sound like everything works out in the end, but… it did? For me? This year? And I’m so grateful.

Again, coming from a place of privilege.

I didn’t lose my job when the pandemic hit. I was able to work from home. Once I realized the situation wasn’t sustainable, I was able to search for another job. I was able to pivot and, thanks to my education and previous experience, I am back doing what I’ve always wanted to do. What I used to do, except now, it’s better. All that hard work I put in years ago, barely getting by, paid off. I’m writing for a living and making good money doing so. It’s… mind-boggling, honestly.

^ That. Completely. I have tough days but even when things seem hard, I recline back (because I am working from home in my cushy desk chair) and realize that I still have it so good. I wouldn’t trade this for the world.

I also keep thinking about something I read regarding “don’t quit your day job,” when someone argued that point by saying if you have a day job, you’re not going to take risks to make it on your own. And that has been true for me for over a decade, since I was just a kid (ha) in college with big dreams. So in some sick way, I’m kind of grateful that this year pushed me to my breaking point so I could start rebuilding it all the way I want it to be.

Another morning feeling like I’m struggling to keep my head above water, another morning of Writing to Transform from UNCW – which thankfully helps me keep my head up.

This morning was “Send Word” with Anna Lena Phillips Bell, and the purpose was to inspire us to send postcards to connect with family and friends.

I started a Postcard Project during the pandemic where I wrote a few lines of a story on a postcard, mailed it to a friend, and had them write the next few lines. An exquisite corpse by mail. It’s still going, even though that Instagram account has tapered off because social media can be a struggle. Maybe the Postcard Project is something I should transfer to this blog…

Anyway, I like my exquisite corpse by mail idea, but I also love Anna Lena Phillips Bell’s idea of sending words of encouragement and connection to others. You don’t have to be on vacation to write a postcard. Since you have limited space, don’t say “I’m sitting on the porch thinking about…” Just jump right into the thoughts, the feelings.

Participants shared a lot of blips of memory that made me think of some writing prompts, almost a continuation of Aimee Nezhukumatahil’s Monday session. But those descriptions also made memories come back to me, experiences I shared with friends that I might not be in regular contact with anymore. And I thought of describing that moment to them on a postcard, and how they might feel reading it. Comparing their memory with what I expressed. How it might make them feel to see the memory, to see themselves, through my eyes.

The session ending with a brainstorming session to list things you’re looking forward to. Most weren’t specific instances or events, of course, but more things to do every day to keep your chin up. Phrases of hope and inspiration. And I can see how these would look on a postcard, and how they might make the reader feel.

The session was inspiring and brought a breath of fresh air to my writing mindset – I can write without it having to be a story or a poem. I can write to share something with just one other person, and it will matter. I’m grateful to have a stack of blank postcards and a coil of stamps. Keep an eye on your mailbox.

I started my “first” poetry notebook earlier this spring. I say “first” because I’ve written poetry before and took a poetry workshop in college, but this was a notebook only for poems. I wrote in it from March 9th to August 17th, and though I still have a few blank pages left, it’s time for a new book.

March 9th was before my job went remote and before I knew what was coming. The notebook takes me through the “novelty” of having an extra week of Spring Break (or so I thought at the time), to trying to navigate how I can hold my life together. It captures the inspiration I felt from having access to so many author Zooms – events I wouldn’t have been able to attend if they were in-person, whether it was due to distance or having to find care for my son. Things seemed, if not bright, then at least “okay” for a time. Then it got harder and there was a lot of turmoil in my life, a lot of anger, and it showed in my writing.

My creativity has been severely stunted for the past few months, and I feel like most days I’m doing just enough to live. And keep my son alive. Most things I think about are what each meal will be and what I need to do to make money. (Writing, people, writing! No OnlyFans links here.) Over the past two months, it’s been harder for me to let my mind wander for creative writing, and sometimes even to enjoy reading. This election (I know, I know, you’ve heard it all from everyone else) has been weighing heavy on me, and it’s showing me people’s true colors in ways I’m sadly not surprised by, but still angered by. And I know that’s on me. I’m letting these people live rent-free in my mind, a saying I read recently and have been fixated on.

And maybe it’s a strange time to feel the tides of change, but I’m feeling it. And I hope it goes beyond me, but even if it doesn’t, I want to harness this feeling. I’m writing for NaNo and I’m on track (yes it’s early, but still!). I was inspired to start a new poetry notebook, perhaps one with less despair than this spring’s, or at least more discipline in anger instead of pure mopey-ness. I don’t know what tonight will bring, or the next day or the next week or the next month or January. But I have hope and I have my thoughts and my words, and I’m determined to use them.

This morning I joined UNCW’s Writing to Transform session “Who Said Nights Were for Sleep: The Power of Aubades and Nocturnes” with Aimee Nezhukumatahil. I’m a huge fan of Nezhukumatahil and have been attending many enjoyable Zoom events for her new book, but this one was a nice change of pace. While I love hearing about Nezhukumatahil’s writing process and listening to her read her own work, “The Power of Aubades and Nocturnes” was like sitting in on one of her classes, something I’d love to do.

To start a nocturne, Nezhukumatahil pushed attendees to “activate your night mind”, and I was immediately lost in thought. Of course the night mind is freer than the day mind; I love letting my mind wander as I drift to sleep (if I’m lucky) and I get a lot of story ideas then, too. Ideas I used to be convinced were SO GOOD I would remember them in the morning. But I never did, so now I have a notepad by my bed, with a pen that has a light at the writing tip. Now I can jot down my ideas without fully waking myself up, and then… find out they’re not good in the morning. BUT STILL! It’s my imagination, and it’s going wild, and I was immediately on board with the concept.

Nezhukumatahil read a few poems by others and gave us jumping off points to write our own nocturnes. What subjects most often come up in your night mind? Even making a list put me in that mindset, and then she pushed us further by asking us to list sounds and smells associated with those thoughts.

She gave us slightly specific prompts as well, which I’m a huge fan of. I love having some constraints to my writing, because instead of flailing blindly, that usually gives me a focus and I can go wild from there. She gave us four places to start, because a conversation that happens in a kitchen will be different than a conversation that happens at the edge of a lake. She gave us three different late night/early morning times as well, because a conversation that happens at 9pm will be different than a conversation that happens at 2am. I love the idea of a writing exercise mixing and matching ALL of these times and places to see how story will change.

For aubades, Nezhukumatahil had us think of types of goodbyes. Letting my mind loose like this was invigorating; I haven’t really brainstormed on a topic like that since… well, since I last led a writing workshop, probably. I only took notes during the session because I wanted to get as much as I could from it, and now I’m ready to really explore these prompts, and hopefully grow from there.

Scrolling Twitter can be a good experience or a terrible one, but I try to follow a lot of writers, publishers, and librarians so that my timeline is filled with creative, book-loving, often amusing information. One of my favorite tweets lately really got me thinking, so I wanted to share it here.

I love the idea of becoming a mini expert on something. Actually, I love the idea of following through on my notes. My phone is full of notes and reminders that are just short phrases, concepts, periods in history. Things I want to write about eventually. Things I don’t want to forget.

Things I never get to.

The idea of devoting a Sunday to become an expert is manageable, and, to fully out myself a nerd – it sounds fun!If I’ll have dedicated time to research, time to write about what I’ve studied. I can let myself be surprised by how it comes out: as poetry, as essays, as memoir veiled as fiction.

My first Sunday Expert might turn into a deep dive, we’ll see. But I’ve been wanting to learn more about the Salem Witch Trials for a long while, so here we go.

What topic would you want to become a Sunday expert in?

Last fall, when times were tough, I found a blank notebook and pushed myself to write two sentences about good things that happened each day. Sometimes it was hard, and my sentences were just “The day is over. I can sleep now.” or something along those lines. But it still pushed me to see the good, and I needed to do that.

I recently started reading The Book of Delights by Ross Gay. I love the concept of writing a short poem or essay about something good from each day. I’ve been doing some form of daily writing for over fifteen months now, and I’ve mixed it up by writing different things, or in different styles. Brain dumps, poetry, paragraphs of fiction, flash fiction. Now, micro essays focusing on a delightful aspect of each day.

Gay gave himself some guidelines for the project, and I love them and am applying them to mine as well. He started and ended on his birthday, as I am starting today. He wrote them quickly, by hand; I found a beautiful (delightful!) blank notebook just for this project. I need to sit and focus and work on these, but also make them spontaneous and thoughtful. I love taking on new projects, and I love having rules for myself and holding myself accountable. But this is also a project about delights, and I’m determined to keep it light and delightful.

What I’ll do with it in the end, I don’t know, but at least I’ll have a record of a good year, and that seems to be exactly what I need right now.

The last time I wrote was July 2nd, and I don’t even remember that. It’s just over a month ago, but it feels like ages. Isn’t that how time is passing these days? Isn’t that what we all say?

I wrote about Camp Nano, which ended recently without me winning or even finishing. I wrote every day until the last week of July, and then I just… Well. You know. It seems like we’re all feeling that way, just like we’re amazed at the strange slow-quick passage of time. How do I even describe it? The feeling that nothing matters, that there’s no point in pushing myself to finish, that it’s not good anyway, that I don’t know where to take it from here.

It’s a misleading feeling, because I did genuinely like my story. My second story. I last wrote that I had been dreaming about high school, so that’s what I started writing about. A week, maybe, of my original story about an old lady, then pivoting to a high school story. And I liked it, even if it wasn’t as suspenseful as I originally thought I would write. I think it’s something I can come back to in a few months time.

For now, though, my mind is racing with other thoughts. Two competing ideas that I can’t stop thinking about. One I’m picturing as a short story or novella told in alternating points of view. One might be a short story in verse. But also, could these two ideas work together? Should I try to combine them, or should I push myself to complete two separate stories?

It’s been so long since I completed something longer than a poem, and I need to get to that point again. I’m having ideas like I did when I was in writing workshops, and I missed that feeling. I have it back and I don’t want to lose it. But there’s also that question of “why” that seems to haunt all my hobbies lately. Why write these stories? Who is the audience? Where could it be published? Will it make any money? Will it lead to anything? Why is it so hard to do something for pure enjoyment these days? Or is it just me? It seems like everything has to be monetized to be worth doing, and I need to shake that feeling.

But there’s something invigorating about following the ideas, seeing what will happen if I let them expand into what they need to be. I used to do that, I used to get an idea that wouldn’t let me go and then I would sit for hours writing and writing until the sun came up and I had to start the day over again. I don’t think that lifestyle is possible for me anymore, as I get tired by 9pm, but the feeling is still one to be harnessed so I can ride it out.