That’s what the doctor told me last week. I have mentioned in passing, perhaps, that I have been feeling unmotivated lately (as in a few months now), but did not mention that I have been feeling sick. Like, picking up every virus that sweeps through the office, or at least feeling like I constantly got a virus. Low energy, headaches. Then over the last two weeks, it became BAD headaches, which prompted me to decline the previously mentioned promotion and also sent me to the doctor to run EVERY POSSIBLE TEST in order to figure out what’s wrong. Because if something’s wrong, Ms. Fix-it has to fix it, immediately and effectively, with best possible result and greatest possible ROI.
Except nothing is wrong. All the blood tests show that all my hormones, markers, vitamins and whatnot are in healthy range. My thyroid and various blood cells are doing what they are supposed to. I even had an MRI of the brain, for christsakes! It looks good, apparently. I have a good-looking brain.
So you know what that means? It’s the stress. Which means I have to change my life.
Except it’s not that easy, Mr. General Practitioner and Mrs. General Practitioner and the radiologist dude! Meditation won’t cut it when you spend your day running like a madwoman from meeting to meeting, answering emails on the fly, and then having to deal with twenty-some staff, most of which are in different stages of discontent themselves. And no, I don’t think I’m cut out for the life as a masseuse, unless I could be guaranteed a job for the local football team, then maybe, yes. Actually, I would do that for free.
So instead, I am going to try a new therapy, IDGAF. Yes, it stands for not giving a fox about much. My biggest decision has been not to give a fox about the promotion. Because what good is climbing up higher if my head hurts so much that I can’t see straight? This is unbelievably big deal for me, because the first half of my life was spent as an overachiever, so taking it down a notch to just “achiever” feels wrong.
Interestingly, the next bit applied to my artwork. I have shared my portraits previously, all overworked, with great attention to detail, the desire to achieve perfection showing yet never satisfied. Instead, I decided to try my own brand of “perfectionist therapy” and just went at my dining room walls with this:
The perfectionist in me will still continue, until it looks more like what I had in my head, but at least I’m not scared or bothered by it, and I keep experimenting and making mistakes. My husband is worried, but every time he asks what I’m doing and where this is going, or makes a smartass comment about the house value, I laugh uproariously and slap more paint on. Because IDGAF about the walls.
The good news is that my head is not hurting right now. The real test will be whether or not it will start again when everyone is back from holidays and the expectations mount faster than a snowball. So I must practice diligently. I went to the gym today at lunch and did not hurry to get back, because, honestly, it did not matter. Tonight’s plan is more paint on the walls, while drinking wine and eating ice cream. Tomorrow is Friday and I will TGIF while NGAF. Next week is New Year, and well, no prizes for guessing what my resolution will be!
Time will tell what happens. For now, I’m just glad not to have a headache.
This may not be such a big deal, but I’m still in disbelief over my own audacity. I mean, I got tapped on the shoulder by an executive and was offered to take on a major project, the likes of which my organization has not yet seen. When I wondered out loud about how I was going to manage this in addition to my already stressful job, the executive offered to backfill part of my job. There was a new title with “Executive” to be had and no doubt extra compensation, although we did not get to the details of that. The project was sure to propel me right up to the next step of the corporate ladder.
So I said “yes”.
Oh yeah, minor detail – I said “yes” at first, like a good girl, one that bites more than she can chew and then chews like hell. I said “yes” and then proceeded to stress for two weeks about what the hell I am doing, all the way to a panic attack last Sunday, complete with chest pains. Then, Monday morning I called the executive and ever so politely withdrew from the project. She couldn’t believe it at first, even tried to come up with some arrangement, where I finish a couple of major projects already on the way and then take on this one, but finally agreed that she needed someone here and now. I was relieved. Sad, because my damn stressful job won’t let me take on something cool and exciting, but relieved. I went to my calendar and cancelled several hours worth of meetings I no longer had to attend.
Then the coolest thing happened. The little bit of spare brain capacity got flooded with a creative tsunami the likes of which I have not experienced in months. Have a look – all of this happened within approximately 30 hours, which included some sleep and a few snacks:
Yes, it’s a ginormous Christmas card. It was somewhere between complaining about the heat and how I can’t imagine Christmas in 30-plus degree weather and admiring my coworkers’ zest for decorating that I came up with this idea. I did not know if I would be able to pull it off, I just knew I had to do it. I found a store that sells primed canvas by meter, taped a 1.6mX2.5m piece of it to my (now ruined) dining room wall and went nuts. Saturday night date night got cancelled and I had to make a mad dash back to the art store for more paint, but the next day I was sneaking into work to hang this up on the glass wall of my office. I have the Monday off, so don’t yet know how it was received, but it doesn’t even matter – I was high on endorphins all day. Thank you, Universe, for giving back my creativity.
Oh, and thanks again for something unexpected – my Twitter thread of progress photos almost went viral:
I’ve never had any of my tweets get so many retweets and likes in such a short time. I’ve posted excerpts from my books and photos of my portraits, which took painstaking days to complete, and they gathered some interest, but never like this. Dozens of people left comments, and I am now left wondering about why this particular painting provoked such an emotional response. Is it the season? Or the mood of it? Does it have something to do with it’s size? Or how quickly it was completed? If you have thoughtsd on this, please let me know – one thing for sure, I may stray away from the portraiture for another test.
So things are great. Except now I have to paint the entire dining room wall – and not with Dulax, but with a mural exactly like this painting, because Josh said so 🙂
As per usual, I’m not going to write a comprehensive guide on how to overcome the beast that keeps us from finishing (or even starting) that next (or first) novel. I just want to share with you an unexpected way I broke my own dry spell.
No, unfortunately I have not written another novel. Not yet. But I’d managed, after two months of being frozen in limbo, to paint another portrait. It’s not quite finished, but I wanted to share it anyway.
I can’t tell you what a relief it is to finally break a spell that was hanging over me – I just could not finish another painting I started. I was stuck. I’m not sure if it was fear that I don’t know what I’m doing or boredom of having gone just far enough. Maybe both. Maybe that’s why I have not finished the third novel in Isa Maxwell series – I got to a certain stage and just was not sure or interested in going through the polishing up stage. So I decided to move on from the not-quite-finished painting and try something new. Here it is, in case I forget it altogether.
Not only that, the portrait above is a character for a new novel, and in a completely new genre, a blend of a psychological thriller with some knife-to-the chest drama. Fingers crossed, I will get into it soon enough – the characters are starting to talk in my head, which is what I loved so much about writing my first two books.
So if you find yourself stuck or struggling to continue – maybe don’t. Put the draft in a drawer and start something new. Who knows, maybe it will lead you on to a completely new path. I hope mine does.
I have been super busy. Interestingly, it’s easy to work hard when you love what you’re doing and all you get is positive feedback and nobody yet giving your work a one-star review, publicly wishing that they could burn it. However, I am also learning just how frustrating art could be. So frustrating, in fact, that I wanted to throw my last painting into the garbage bin:
Yep, this one almost did not happen, because at some point I’d decided that I just can’t. Freaking. Blend. Acrylics:
It was late at night. Josh went to bed, after trying to cajole me for an hour to give it a rest, which is not something I do often. I finally gave up and decided that this one was not to be. Some famous painter said that he was happy if one out of ten paintings was good, so the next morning I started playing with it. Then an amazing thing happened – because I had already written this particular piece of canvas off, I was no longer scared to try bold colors and fearless highlights. And somehow, (I am once again completely puzzled at how this happened), I made a painting at which I just. Can’t. Stop. Staring.
This is my number four and the first one that has a name. Persistence. Because she taught me not to stop and now that I know, I will continue no matter how ugly the progress stages get. I didn’t even take the most shocking one, where I scraped back her cheeks. Here are the ones I did take:
Somehow, I have managed through over 45 years not knowing this. Then as previously moaned, I hit a deep well of dark depression and decided to try my hand at painting with acrylics. It’s now three weeks later and I have just finished my third ever portrait on canvas:
My family is in a state of what I can describe as a “proud shock.” I am shocked too, because in fact my whole life I was convinced that I’m absolute rubbish at painting. I can now remember a mandatory art class in high school that may have prompted this self-belief – my old-school Soviet teacher yelling at me, because I just couldn’t get the point that the shadows are supposed to be purple. Once I got that, he stopped yelling, but I guess the damage was done. I have made sculptures before, but my artistic efforts have so far been limited to drawing princesses and unicorns on request. Even choosing a colour for walls was a drawn-out, painfull process of buying and painting on samples of no less than 11 shades of grey. When I started painting three weeks ago, I was hoping to just get my mind off the stress and the recent series of unfortunate events. My first painting was crap:
However, one magical thing did happen – I loved painting it. And I wanted to paint more. And true to myself, I wanted the next one to be better. So I watched a bunch of YouTube tutorials, bought some more paint and the next one was indeed a bit better:
So I watched more tutorials, bought more supplies, and the result surprised me. If you follow me on Twitter, you might have seen the painstakingly slow progress shots, if not – here they are. Cause progress is fun!
Speaking of progress, I now have my husband’s agreement to indefinitely delay converting one of the two living rooms in the new old house into an awesome master bedroom. Because it is already awesome as my studio:
That’s all for now. I didn’t get a chance to write a post about Amazon ads, but will do so when I get temporarily sick of painting, which could happen. Hope it would be only temporary, if it does.
I also hope that if you suddenly remember someone yelling at you as a kid, something about how you could never do X, that you would immediately make plans to try X at the earliest opportunity. You never know what may happen.
UPDATE: please review the entries below and then vote for who you think should get a free cover design: Only one vote per person/computer is allowed. Voting will close on 24 January.
Omg, you guys – I had the most genius idea ever. You’ve been so nice and supportive while I’ve been going through the ups and downs of trying to hire not one, but two designers, getting sorely disappointed and then designing both the ecover and the wrap myself. Just to remind you of what I can do, here is the wrap:
A lot of you took the time to comment on the process – thank you again! Several of you have also mentioned hiring me as a designer. To be honest, I don’t want to branch into that – it’s a stressful job, takes a long time, and just thinking of taking somebody’s money and then disappointing them gives me the heebie-jeebies. So I just answered those comments with jokes. Sorry.
But then I had a light bulb moment. Sure, I don’t want another job, and I don’t have the time to create covers for all of you, but I can do one, for free! Then my marketing brain jumped on it, and I came up with an awesome win-win idea: a free contest!
So here it is: until the end of the year, I will accept pitches from anyone who has written a book, or has an idea for one, or wants to publish their NaNoWriMo creation. You don’t have to have the book ready for publication or even written – perhaps having a ready cover hanging over your desk will keep you motivated to finish that dream project?
Here are the rules:
Write a pitch. Imagine that you are submitting your book to an agent – write a blurb/pitch that will hook the reader. Remember, people will vote on it (more on that below).
Post the pitch on your blog or website. If you don’t have one, post it in the comments below.
Let me know about it – in a comment below, with a link to your post.
Make sure to post it any time before midnight on 31 December!
That’s it! After the contest closes, I will create a voting page which will be live during January. Everyone and anyone will get to vote on your pitch. The voting will close on 31 January and the winner will be chosen based on the number of votes – I will stay out of it!
The winner will get the following:
A shot of endorphins at the news of having won a contest.
One custom cover (ebook or paperback wrap, your choice), including:
Up to three initial concepts to choose from (or your concept, developed).
Up to three images from Shutterstock, your choice (regular license, up to 500,000 prints). You get the images to keep.
Detailed design with up to three “fixes” (sorry, I will have to draw a line somewhere!).
Final, layered Photoshop file uploaded to Dropbox – unlike designers, I won’t keep it to myself! This way, if you ever want to tweak a word, or add a “bestselling author” stamp, you can easily do it yourself or get someone local to do it for you.
My relentless perfectionism.
A free value of (according to quotes I got from designers) up to $750!
A special blog post on my site, announcing the final design, with a link to purchase (if available).
That warm, fuzzy feeling of accomplishing a goal.
I hope you are as excited about this as I am! let me know what you think 🙂
Life at the tail end of the 24th cee is fairly righteous. The advent of Stringtech mere centuries ago revolutionized the world. Hunger and disease are concepts of the past. Free energy is here for the taking of it and mankind enjoys an unprecedented period of largess, peace and growth.
While on vacation in 1927, Hollywood screenwriter Chet Koski and his wife Eveleen, both amateur sleuths, antagonize a divided small town, unravel a kidnapping, discover a timber scandal, and Chet fears his cousin may be a killer. These things happen when finding a head on a grave.
When fourteen-year-old Allen Foster is diagnosed with parasomnia, a sleep disorder evoking vivid nightmares, he begins journaling each haunting dream on the advice of his psychiatrist, keeping the notebook safely hidden in a floorboard — that is until a new family moves into the Maine house. When Rita, the daughter of the new owners, discovers the book and begins experiencing Allen’s old nightmares, she tracks him down in an effort to rid herself of the misery, only to find he has no memory of writing them.
An age old tradition. A few offline cameras. Shadows in the alley.
Lance works in a busy city, watching out for disturbances and things out of the ordinary. He has no idea just out strange things have gotten until he looks into a missing child case and discovers dark secrets in the shadows. Inhuman creatures seem to appear out of nowhere and are devouring the city. And the only way to stop them…is a tradition no one believes in anymore.
It knows your darkest thoughts, your deepest secrets, and your hidden desires. All you need to do; put the puzzle together. Richard and Vivian Cordova discover the puzzle when they move into their newly bought home. One thousand pieces wedge their way between the newlyweds putting their vows and their lives to the test.
Diana, a lonely and neglected, middle age, wife and mother decides to end her loveless marriage of thirty years. On her own for the first time in decades, she struggles to adjust to her new single life, dating and overcoming a devastating diagnosis of mental illness. Can she learn to love herself so she will be ready to find love with the right man or will she continue to get the thrills her illness demands by engaging in increasingly risky behavior? Will she get the help she needs to live a more fulfilling life before her mental illness wins and she decides to commits suicide?
7. The Hiding Place – By J.K.Tevis.
The bugs were unmerciful in their quest for food. The ants were the most vicious. Her hiding place was their home and she was an intruder. The dried blood on her feet seemed to have driven them into a feeding frenzy making it look as though she wore a pair of black boots. Even though the earth under her was cool the sun had turned the fallen stones over her into an oven. As she drifted in and out of consciousness she kept remembering her mother’s last words…. “RUN,THEY’RE HERE !”
8. Chrysalis by Sharon Gerdes
Joyel is a weapon, a genetically engineered ten year old. When the ruthless faction leader Anson kidnaps Joyel she must fight to save her soul. Anson spends ten years brainwashing her, demanding that she view him as father, embrace a new identity as Joy, and to kill for him. But Joy is determined to be subject to no man.
Cutting is how Joy copes with the years of abuse, etching her hatred of Anson into her skin until the time to mete out revenge has come. Despite her rage, now twenty-year-old Joy struggles to strike out against the man she calls father. Discovering Anson’s plans to restart the genetic program she was spawned from in order to raise an army forces Joy to act. To no longer be a pawn, she must kill Anson and destroy the monster she has become. If she doesn’t, she will never be free.
CHRYSALIS asks which is more important: to know who you are, or to whom you belong?
For Ember Rehksskari, a hated dragon and last princess of a fallen kingdom, there are two kinds of place in the world: those where the people will try to kill her, and those where they’ll try harder. Yet, fleeing from the second to the first, she may just find a third.
The kingdom of Salshira has no interest in hosting a dragon, any dragon, especially not one pursued by the Vohrskrain, but Ean Tavarin, crown prince and engineer extraordinaire, has a plan to make a home for this one…if he can deal with a best friend who wants all dragons dead, a father looking out for the rest of the kingdom, and a romantic interest he didn’t know he had.
It really shouldn’t be this hard to make one damsel safe!
But if Emperor Vohrskrain has anything to say, none of them will be until Ember is dead.
Ana Spoke, author 