Establishing Priorities

This is driving me crazy right now! How to establish priorities when several merit “first”?  I am left feeling exhausted. Nothing accomplished. The hamster wheel of frustration. It occurred to me, maybe others have had the same experience?  Here’s what I think I need to do:

Make a list: Commonsense, right? I am the kind of person who needs to write things down to get a handle on them. The problem is that I’ve been writing lists up the wazoo for the last 18 months and it hasn’t seemed to help. Or maybe I’m just looking at it wrong?  For example, I made a list of revenue-generating work tasks:  Yager Editing Services (my online freelance editing business), Part-time job, hospital volunteer? for networking, and Indiegogo crowdsource funding project.  What happened with this list? Well, I launched the website for the editing business and have been promoting it sporadically.  I need to promote the heck out of it, of course, and see if I can tap into my contacts to get referrals from them.  I have the part-time job. I decided against volunteer work of any kind, including writing for free (blogs are my only exceptions, and the Eyes on Life blog is in the Adsense program; wish more people would click those ads!).  The Indiegogo project has languished, mostly because I don’t want to make a video for it but I know the video would enhance the fundraising effort. This project is to pay off publication production debt I incurred for Perceval’s Secret. Paying it off has been truly killing my budget. An addition to this list: search for a fulltime job. Maybe with a fulltime job, my financial strain would ease.

OK. I’ve been working on that list. I think what has been bothering me is that my writing (creative: fiction and nonfiction) has fallen to the bottom of my priorities list, as well as taking care of my health more. Generating revenue has been my first priority because I want to keep my apartment and eat.  The rest of my list includes in order: Marketing my writing (Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, GoodReads, get book reviews, maybe blog tour? contests?), Selling my possessions (eBay, Facebook, Amazon), Writing new stuff (freelance essays for pay, short stories, work on memoir, revise Perceval’s Shadow, transform Over the Rainbow screenplay to novel). And I have been working on each item on these lists, getting book reviews for example, and starting to sell my possessions (what a time-consuming process to document everything for the IRS).

My mind lives in a jungle of ideas for writing. I want to spend all my time writing.  Missing from any list I’ve made are activities related to supporting good health (walking, energy exercises, meditation, having a social life, taking care of my home so it doesn’t make me sick).

When I’m not writing, i.e. being creative, for several hours each day, I start to feel like I’m sick. My body feels the imagination’s frustration. My imagination just wants to play. I recently hit on a couple ideas for future writing projects that harken back to my childhood. That was a surprise. How do I channel all of this mental energy into productivity?

My thinking the last few days has revolved around re-arranging my priorities. I need to put my writing and health as the first two and revenue generation third.  After all, how can I work effectively if I’m not happy or feeling well? I hate getting caught up in the rat race of making money. But I do need to work a job in order to pay my living expenses. It’s really the pits being a member of the Working Poor, and I know I’m not alone in thinking that.

Photo: Michael Nichols/National Geographic

I reassure myself that I am doing everything I can to move forward with my writing, to sell my writing, and to earn the money to pay my bills, given health challenges. I’ve even been creative at times in how I’ve approached a problem or in a situation’s resolution. But I must acknowledge that I’ve still been ignoring my imagination and her needs most of this year, and it’s time to make a change for her.

Anyone else dealing with this issue of establishing priorities?  How do you deal with it? How do you reassure yourself that it will all work out for the best?

To Write or Not to Write

A month ago, I wrote about inspiration and how it visits when you least expect it. The week after I wrote that post, I faced a blank page with an equally blank mind.  Today, I’m thinking about my process and wondering why some days seem much better than others for writing.

This past week, I’ve been reading the June 2016 issue of The Writer.  While the emphasis of this issue was Middle Grade and YA books, writing is writing.  One author commented in response to the question “What’s your best tip for writers?”:

“The process of writing is that you have an amazing world in your head and when you go to put it on the page, it never translates smoothly….You have to turn off that inner critic. And then you turn it back on when you need that eye.”

Aha! That inner critic can block the creative process in weird ways. He’s a clever operator. He’s not just about criticizing my ideas, my ability to express them, my writing.  He’s about deflecting me away from my creative impulses by re-directing my thinking to things like the part-time job, my dwindling bank account and if I’ll be able to replenish it, and my health.  It’s not that these things are not important.  They are.  But they have a different place in my life and I don’t want them bulldozing over everything else in my life, especially not my creativity.

Credit: Deepak Nanda/Wikipedia.org

To write or not to write.  I find myself focusing more on making money instead of writing fiction which is what I truly want to do.  My financial situation demands that I focus on making money to pay for my living expenses.  In fact, I’ve come to realize that I’m currently flirting with going completely broke much sooner than I’d allowed myself to know.  Writing takes too long.  There’s no guarantee of publication.  There’s the issue of promotion and marketing that cost money but without them the sales don’t happen.  These are the realities of being a writer in 2016.  My Inner Critic brutalizes me on this point.  The power of my resistance in accepting this reality astonishes me.

First things first, I tell myself.  (Or is it the Inner Critic?)  I won’t be able to write if I don’t earn enough to pay the bills, including internet and office supplies.  But I hate putting money making at such a high priority.  Then that inner voice counters with the very real concern I have about losing my apartment.  In reality, I am only months away from it.  My writing makes pennies for me, not the thousands that I need each month to live.  My part-time job pays only a little more than minimum wage. And then there are the health expenses on top of everything else.  I must be able to pay for medical insurance (this year I’m on my state’s Medicaid program) because without medical care I could face an even more dire reality, i.e. one in which I can no longer take the medications I’m on and see the doctors who care for me and as a result my health deteriorates.  These are all powerful arguments to leave writing in the dust.

Fear of failure has become fear of losing everything.

The Inner Critic has brought me to this point. How do I counter him?

I write.  Something.  Anything. I’m brutally honest with myself about my circumstances, and part of that honesty is acknowledging that I would have arrived at this financial point years ago if I hadn’t been so frugal or so creative at living on little.  I do my best to pat myself on the back for that accomplishment.  Then I point out to myself everything I’m doing currently to earn the money I need, including freelance writing and my new editing business.  I continue to seek out free opportunities to promote Perceval’s Secret and take advantage of the opportunities I find. I’ve been working more hours at the part-time job, and have opened to the possibility of working fulltime, if my health permits. I’ve cut my spending to the bare minimum of living expenses, cutting things like magazine subscriptions, Netflix, social activities, an unnecessary insurance policy that had a monthly premium. I’ve finally begun selling my possessions after creating the necessary documentation system (for tax purposes) and beginning to photograph everything.  I transferred the credit card debt I had as a result of e-publishing Perceval’s Secret to a $0% interest rate credit card so I can more quickly pay down the principal.  And I’m almost finished with creating a crowd-source funding project to raise the money to finally pay off all my debt.  It’s crazy how much money I’m losing (and have lost) because of that debt.

It’s an on-going struggle between me and my Inner Critic, whether it’s about earning more money or writing fiction.

How do you deal with your Inner Critic in all areas of your life? What role does money play in your writing life?  Have you found a way to be true to your writing but still be able to live as you wish?

 

Would You Work in a Moneyless Future?

It seems to have popped again in the Zeitgeist, folks.  Yesterday at the New York Times Opinion Pages blog, Anna North wrote about Trekonomics by Manu Saadia in which he examines the economics of the “Star Trek” universe, i.e. a universe in which there is no need for money because people are no longer focused on the acquisition of wealth.  Instead, they are focused on the achievement of goals.  They don’t need money because they can essentially provide for all their material needs with the help of a replicator — for free.  Achievement will be the measurement of success, not money.

Derek Thompson’s “A World Without Work” in the July/August 2015 issue of The Atlantic takes a different approach, one that acknowledges a money and market economy but does not offer any ideas for a post-money or market “economy.”  Thompson focuses his article on the development of robots and how much of the work now done by humans will be done by robots in the future.  How will that affect society?  How will it affect individuals?  Families?  We invest so much of our identities into what we do for a living, self esteem will surely take a hit, as well as how we define who we are.  So, the psychological effects could be profound.

In Perceval’s Secret and the entire Perceval series, the entire world is moving toward a moneyless future.  There is an international organization that has begun work on figuring out how to wean humans off money, because in another 40 years or so it will be obvious how addicted we are to it and to the consumption and power that comes with it.  America in 2048 is the poster child for the money-addicted society with its gross economic inequality.  China is not far behind.  The economic issues between America and China not only threaten the global economy in 2048 — the global economy still functions — but also the movement toward life without money.

As I read Thompson’s Atlantic article, I thought about my work imagining the future for the Perceval series, and especially my thoughts the last 15 years or so about money, how entwined it is in human existence, and what would need to happen in order to extricate ourselves from it.  The first thing I looked at, and what Thompson discusses regarding robots doing human work, is the hamster wheel we are all on in order to survive.  That is, I must find a job for which I am qualified in order to earn the money I need to pay for my basic needs: shelter, food, clothing, transportation, utility bills including phone and internet, and medical expenses, and paying off my debt.  In our current society, the only way to get off that hamster wheel is to become independently wealthy — win the big lottery jackpot, or win the big business jackpot and retire with millions in the bank.  For anyone making a “middle class” income or below, they have little hope of ever jumping off that wheel.

But what if no one needs money to pay for basic needs because they cost nothing?  At the same time, robot development has progressed to the point where robots could replace humans in the workplace.  This would require a great leap in artificial intelligence in order for a robot to take over the duties and responsibilities of a CEO for example, but I see this as a possibility.  If money no longer needs to exist, then what?

Humans would need to make a great leap forward in their own development, i.e. change attitudes, beliefs and ways of thinking to redefine ourselves and what we believe the purpose of human existence is.  Right now, like it or not, the purpose of human existence is to earn money.  Next, there would be a HUGE disruption/upheaval in the financial and economic sectors — banks and investment companies going out of business, people losing their jobs in all areas of human endeavor (all those billing departments, for example) — and if humans are smart they’ll start preparing for this far in advance of it.  Another area of disruption/upheaval: labor unions, government agencies, employment agencies, and anything else related to labor.

For Perceval’s Secret, a world without money, as much as I wanted to include the transition in the series, became just too big and overwhelming.  It threatened to hijack the story.  So, I had to dial it back far in the background and be content with including some specific details showing that a transition has begun.  I needed to find a way to challenge Evan Quinn’s attitude towards money as well as insure that he’d have enough to live on in his new life.  Being a musician at any time can be financially stressful.

Although a world without money won’t be happening anytime soon, at least the discussion has begun….

(There’s a movement already working toward change: The Zeitgeist Movement.  I’ve written about it before here.  They are dedicated to a “no money” future…..)

What does “commercial success” mean to you?

Yesterday, in my weekly preview of the New York Times Book Review, I spotted a Bookends article that intrigued me — “What are the Draws and Drawbacks of Success for Writers?”  Hmmmm…here we go again.  How were they defining success?  Ah, commercial success, i.e. number of sales and the money made from them, plus the attention and time that success demands of the writer.  Francine Prose and Mohsin Hamid commented on an essay Lionel Shriver wrote in The New Republic about dealing with commercial success, and missing the time when she wasn’t successful and writing was totally her own.  I read Prose’s and Hamid’s responses with great interest.  Prose made me laugh, but not Hamid.  How is it that men refuse to see that economic inequality for women exists now as it did in Virginia Woolf’s time and not for men?

Francine Prose Credit Illustration by R. Kikuo Johnson (from the NY TIMES)

As I have been immersed in work on marketing Perceval’s Secret the last few weeks, one thought has recurred fairly frequently: “I hope this works.  I really need the money.”  Prose’s conclusion about solvency through moderate commercial success really rang true for me.  But that’s only one reason I desire commercial success.  I’m also well aware that first novels don’t always sell that well, so it’s important to go into it with a goal of building readership.  That happens slowly, over time.  I chose to self-publish because I knew from research that traditional publishers, pressured by corporate parents, rarely if ever give writers now a chance to build readership.  They look for books that will sell upwards of 100,000 copies in the first month, i.e. the next big blockbuster.  Most fail miserably at predicting it because no one can truly know what the public wants.  Not even the public knows until they see it.

Mohsin Hamid Credit Illustration by R. Kikuo Johnson (from the NY TIMES)

Hamid would rather that writers earn their livings at day jobs and approach writing rather like a religion.  He doesn’t want “commercial” in the success of a writer at all.  I think he’s right about cultural definitions of success (in America, it’s ALWAYS about the money), and have also run into questions about whether or not I’m published, and then how many books I’ve sold.  A wise friend once urged me to establish my own, personal definition of success, separate from a societal one.  I’ll always have to deal with the societal definition, but my personal one is far more important to me, and it has nothing to do with money, but instead, what I actually do and accomplish.  I’ve already achieved one goal in my definition of personal success, i.e. for at least one person to truly understand Perceval’s Secret.  I hope more understand it, think about it, and encourage others to read it.  But I’ve reached one goal and that means success to me, success in conveying Evan’s story for readers.

Commercial success would be helpful to me right now from a financial standpoint.  What I wouldn’t welcome is the “fame” aspect, i.e. the demands on my time for personal appearances, interviews, etc.  I don’t enjoy public speaking but I can do it, in spite of some health restrictions which make travel impossible.  I enjoy learning about writers whose work I love, and I’m happy to share with my readers, up to a point.  I do need privacy to write.  I enjoy my current anonymity.  I love solitude.  Even now, with the marketing work dominating my time, I can’t wait to return to my regular writing schedule.  The second and third novels in the Perceval series are calling to me…..

What does success mean to you?  How do you define it?  Are you a writer who only cares about commercial success?  Do you have other goals you want to achieve that have nothing to do with money and that would define success for you?

Endings and Blocks

What’s harder than writing?  Publishing it.

Last weekend, I read and judged scholarship essays for the local Mensa group.  It’s something I do every year about this time, and this year, I was very much in an editing mode.  A week ago yesterday, I finished the revisions on Perceval’s Secret.  Since then, I’ve been finishing up the front pages, back pages, choosing the font for the e-book (Libre Baskerville at Google Fonts), and researching metadata.  Next step?  Contact the e-formatting company.

But I feel frozen in place.  My mind veers off that road into a side road that leads anywhere but to publication.  What’s happening to me?  I’ve not had this issue with the essays I’ve published or my monthly column for Mensagenda.  This isn’t exactly writer’s block.  I’ve written about writer’s block twice before, here and here.  My stomach has clutched into a nauseated knot.  I feel like I’m falling and there’s nothing to stop my fall.  This is totally emotional, not rational.

Have you ever wanted something so much, and was so important to you, that you couldn’t move?  It’s fear.

Fear of failure, probably, more than anything.  There’s a lot riding on this publication, e.g. being able to pay my bills.  What if the book doesn’t sell?  That is a possibility.  But I have yet to meet someone who wasn’t interested in reading it after I pitched it.  I guess all the years I queried agents and publishers before are catching up to me.  They are part of the reason I’m e-publishing the novel now, but there’s that niggling nagging feeling of fear that maybe they were right.  Well, they were!  Since the last go-around with agents, I’ve done a line edit, worked with an excellent editor, and improved the book in every way.

Small steps.  Put one foot in front of the other.

It’s not like I have no support, no cheering section, nobody waiting for it to go on sale so they could buy and read it.  It’s just very hard to take the final steps to publication.  Would it be easier if I were working with a traditional publisher?  Probably not.  In a way, it’s better that I’m doing it myself so that I can harass myself about the details instead of someone else.  So, how close am I?

I plan to send an e-mail to the e-formatting company today.  Maybe, I’ll be sending them the manuscript sometime next week.  There will be a proofing step, I’m sure, while they are formatting.  After that, I’ll receive the two e-files that I’ll be able to upload to Kindle, Nook and Kobo.  Then I’ll be up to my ears in marketing tasks, getting the word out, working with AuthorBuzz, registering the two books at Bowker, updating various web pages for the novel, etc.  A lot of work that will keep my mind occupied, at least for a while.

And what about writing?  Well, yes, I have writing projects lined up: an essay about an Iraqi war vet I met, a science fiction short story, catching up with the short stories I have posted on Wattpad, and finally the two biggies: Perceval’s Shadow (novel number 2 in the series) and the essay collection on being a successful patient.  I definitely have enough work to keep me busy.

But I need money, like everyone else.  My bank accounts are bleeding and so far I’ve not found a job, even a part-time job, to replenish them.  So, publication of Perceval’s Secret also means income for me, and that’s huge.  Far too huge than I want it to be.  I’d write whether or not I was paid, but I’m sure my landlord wouldn’t like that nor the electric company, phone company, etc., etc.  So, I think this nauseating fear I feel is really about money — will the novel sell so that I can pay off the debt I’ve incurred in order to publish it?  Will it earn enough to keep me going for another year or two until I have the second novel ready for publication?

I cannot imagine that these concerns are not the most common concerns in the world for writers.  It’s natural that they would come to a head as I’m ending my job as a writer on the first novel.  The fear has thrown up a block of ice to freeze me in place.  How do I melt?