Quiet: Writer at Work!
The publishing-writing balance--and some holiday gift ideas
I’ve been quiet this fall.
That’s because I’ve been writing.
Not producing content intended for an immediate audience, but digging into the creative process, relishing the slowness. I’ve been working on IMAGINE A DOOR, my mental-health-for-writers book, and the stirrings of a new novel. And it feels great.
When people want to know what it’s like to be a publisher and a writer, they really want to know how I get my personal creative work done. It’s a question that plagues those of us who use our writing and editing skills on a daily basis, whether for a full-time job, as freelancers, or as a volunteer helping other writers. And I don’t always know what to say, because I’m not the best at finding a balance.
For many years, I put Forest Avenue Press tasks first.
Why revise chapter three when I can send out five galleys for our spring book?
It’s not like anyone is waiting for my novel.
I can get these next five (twenty-seven!) tasks done for the press and THEN I will write.
It turns out, almost eleven years into running an independent publishing house, I can admit that writing fuels me. It’s how I like to be in the world: quiet. With a notebook, a laptop, a phone on silent. Writing lets me think and process on my own timeline, without the pressure to comment, reply, or click-heart someone else’s words.
Writing lets me be myself without social scripts.
When everything in my life gets buzzy-loud and needs attention, I have two choices. I can handle the distractions and power through the workload. Or I can shut down, close the doors and bar the window to my mind. The latter happens without my permission if I don’t yield to my body and brain saying, Stop. You need a break. If I push myself to get through too many days without enough rest, I end up in a total health crash. Sick from the inside, not from germs, but because my body says enough.
It’s only recently that I’ve begun practicing aggressive self-kindness. Which means pressing my hands against my ears and tucking into my imagination. Instead of ordering my task list as highest priority to lowest, I ask, What can you do to be good to yourself? Writing and resting are two of my best answers. Dinner can get figured out later. I can send that email tomorrow. The post office trip can wait. Especially in this time of world crisis, horror after horror, these small comforts and task deferrals feel ridiculously self-indulgent. And yet. I will be of no use to anyone if I don’t listen to my body. If I don’t get sleep. If I don’t carve out writing time.
I’ve always been a high-maintenance holiday person, making my own cards, squirreling away gifts months ahead of time, but I’ve let much of that go this year because IMAGINE A DOOR is turning into a real manuscript. I even have a subtitle I like! The edits are happening. And spinning in my head, off to the side, is this new novel. The characters clamoring for attention. To do that intensely creative work, I have to tend my body and brain with sleep and good food and extra spells of silence.
Some of this reorienting of priorities has been related to acknowledging my identity as a disabled writer, which in turn has a lot to do with publishing Soul Jar, an anthology by disabled writers edited by Annie Carl, now available at your local independent bookstore.
.Some of this shift in thinking, too, has been just missing writing when I’m not making time for it. Last month I attended a Corporeal Writing generative workshop at the Oregon coast with the intent to let my brain spark and play, not to produce pages. Not to bang out content. Just to be in a space with other writers, to relish the silence in my hotel room between workshops. I honestly spent much of the weekend drinking glasses of water and watching the rain.
Running a business that is about producing content, and having to talk about that content and the process of making it, makes it easy to slip into a routine of information maintenance. I always am working on metadata and accounting and publicity spreadsheets. When I write, I slip out of the analytical constraints I’ve set for myself. I lose track of time. I get messy with words, wrecking perfectly decent paragraphs so I can see what I’m doing and make them better. I need that in my life to manage the structured business work without burning out.
Speaking of the business side of publishing, my dear friend and colleague Liz Prato is the author of three fabulous collections and the editor at large of Forest Avenue Press. She’s available for consults, so if you’re in the market, here’s her website. Liz and I are running three low-cost workshops in January—$25 each—on agenting, small presses, and querying. You can check them out here. The hope is to make a lot of behind-the-scenes information available to writers who might otherwise not have access to it. If you (or a writer you love) needs some information about how to find a home for a manuscript, these classes make great stocking stuffers. We promise lots of fun stories from our years writing and publishing. The recordings will be available after the classes if you sign up but can’t attend live.
Since it’s that season, here are a few other gift ideas:
Niyyah Handcrafted makes wonderful soaps, candles, and other goodies. Recently I’ve been burning one of her candles when I have an hour to write. When I do that, it feels like I’m creating a ritual around my work instead of just fitting it in between the cracks.
I’m obsessed with Rancho Gordo’s heirloom beans. Buy some for yourself and a few extra bags to gift. There are recipes on the website, too, including fabulous holiday meals for vegetarians and vegans.
Beans pair nicely with Fat Gold olive oil, which I have been ogling for a while via author Robin Sloan’s newsletter. I can’t wait to gift two bottles to a person in my household (haha) so I can partake of the deliciousness.
I met Julia, the owner of Rather Puckish, at the Pacific Northwest Booksellers Association this fall and I’m definitely giving some of her work as gifts this holiday season.
YOUR INVITATION: What can you do to be kind to yourself from now through the end of the year? How can any habits or rituals you come up with find their way into your 2024 plans? If you struggle with the idea of taking care of yourself while children are being murdered, I’m right there too. I feel that so hard. Ari Honarvar wrote this beautiful essay on joy during times of crisis, and reading it a few years ago was the beginning of allowing myself to have this conversation with myself. To grieve and fight for change and also to sleep when I need extra rest.
Feel free to leave a comment! I started this newsletter to create an intimate but accessible conversation space about creativity and publishing. You can reply to this email to have a conversation just with me, or you can comment on the post to connect with other readers too.
Laura, whenever I read your posts, it's almost as if I wrote them myself. Your words struck a chord within me and remind me that I am indeed a writer. Thank you for sharing.
I am glad I am not the only one who just watches the water come in and out on the coast at a writing retreat. I took myself on a personal writing retreat with the goal of finishing my novel - no excuses. I paid for this time away and i felt pressure to use it "wisely" but I found I also spent time walking on the beach and looking at the sunset each night. I did finish, but I don't think it was the added pressure. Perhaps it was the waves.