Last night I was telling some friends that I am puzzled by this drive I feel to re-create my office. Somehow I know that it is the most important professional development thing I’m doing during the first half of this year. But it feels anti-logical. If I profess to be a writer, then I should be focusing my energies on writing. My friends assured me that organizing my work space makes perfect sense. Howard agrees with them. Yet it still seems selfish, turned inward, and somehow profoundly healthy. I need the reminder that common logic about how writing careers should be managed can be wrong for an individual. I must trust my inspiration and intuition, both of which tell me that remodeling my office is important. So we proceed.

Many people I know online are writing Year in Review posts. In one writer’s forum there is an entire thread which was created simply for people to report on how their writing went in 2011. I keep opening that thread. I don’t actually read every post. I skim over them. The truth is a Year in Review post is more valuable to the person writing it than to anyone who may stop by and read. Or so I thought. But several people commented about how much they love to read the thread. Every time I go in the forum I click on that thread. I think about writing a post for it. My post would be a sort of counterpoint. I accomplished a lot during 2011, but not very much of it was as a writer. I never start typing that post. I’m stopped by the conviction that the things I have to say are only me justifying my decisions to myself. The only reason I would need to do that is if I doubt the choices I made. I don’t doubt. Except when I do. During the times that I manage to find calm contemplation of the year just past, I think it was what it needed to be. Some of it was stressful, there are some hard bits which loom large and obscure my view of the rest. It will be interesting to see how my mental picture of the year changes as I compile my annual book of blog entries.

I think I’m also avoiding writing a year in review post because it faces backward. I want to just start where I am and make today be good. I want to reach for goal completion. Last year saw the beginnings of many things, but the second half of the year was lacking in projects completed. Most of the things I began are still pending or in process. The two feel different to me. Pending are the things which I can not control, in process are the things which I can affect. The fact that I’m avoiding it probably means I should do it. I should delve into last year, even the hard bits. I’ll likely discover that my feelings about the year have been colored by various inaccurate perceptions. Because 2011 was a good year. I know that it was. I also know that I made the right choices during it. And then I think that all these thoughts are probably a waste of emotional energy. Either write it up, or don’t.

The weather has been lovely. It has been years since we’ve had 50 degree weather in January. The last time I’m sure of was 1999 when most of February was 50 degrees during the day. That was during my radiation therapy while my mother was here. I remember that she was able to take the kids outside every day. We also planted bulbs because the ground was not frozen. I should probably do that this year, but I forgot to put Gardener on the hat schedule. Perhaps I shall revise. The sunshine would be good for me.

2. A great big thank you post to all the people who helped out with our shipping event. They are worthy of praise, warm fuzzies, and treats.

3. The reasons why my shipping system needs to be dismantled and rebuilt. The end result may look almost exactly like what I currently have, but the process will either replace my weird Jerry-rigged system, or will demonstrate to me that I just need to continue making-do. This whole thought makes me tired.

4. An intensely thoughtful post about how a hard school year is not necessarily a bad school year. This post would include the definitions of “bad year” and “hard year.” Short version: a bad year results in coping strategies which need to be dismantled. A hard year leaves one exhausted and drained, but positioned well for things to come.

5. My answer to the question “So, are you ready for Christmas yet?” This question pops up everywhere in casual conversation and, while I have a chit-chat sort of answer, the true answer is long. The true answer involves my whole approach to the Christmas holidays, the shape of our traditions, and why I’m just leaving the boxes of decorations out where the kids can decorate, or not, as they wish.

6. A long blog post responding to a discussion on whether the introduction of children into one’s life is the end of creative output for the next few years. Short version: No. It is just the beginning of a whole new set of decisions to make about priorities and how hours should be spent. Answers to these questions will (and should) vary according to person and circumstances. This post would also cover how beginning parenting is a learning process and multiple learning processes have trouble running in parallel. This could be why those established in creative careers seem better positioned to maintain them despite the arrival of small children.

7. A post describing how I’ve been deliberately seeking out things which are visual rather than wordy. This is followed by thoughts about how many photography images on the internet are photoshopped into a better-than-real perfection. This is not just in advertising or photos of people. The internet is full of better-than-real landscapes, product photos, and animal pictures. Then there are thoughts about what feeding ourselves a steady diet of hyper-perfect dream realities does to our psyches and expectations for our lives. This one must draw on psychological research, the Dove “Real beauty” adds, and several articles I’ve read lately.

8. Thoughts about self-promotion and whether there is any benefit to collecting followers, “likes”, etc. There is a definite benefit to having truly committed fans who are willing to support the creator and the work, but people who follow or “like” in order for a chance at a prize are not committed and will vanish as fast as they arrived. Again, this one will have links to articles and supportive research.

9. A post about the office remodel that I am slowly inching my way toward. This includes thoughts on how physical spaces affect the way I view my work and how form can re-shape function in odd ways that will linger for a long time unless one deliberately shakes out of old habits. It is possible that this will include an anecdotal story about a roasting pan. I would try to make my planning-my-shiny-new-office ramble into something relevant.

10. A look forward into the next year and the shape my professional life needs to take. I would view upcoming events with an estimation of whether or not I’ll be attending. I continue to strive for creative balance, pushing, shaking up old habits of thought, and yet being very careful not to spend much time in anxiety land. This would include thoughts on stress, hyperthyroidism, hypothyroidism, anxiety, and probably a measure of whining.

11. An exploration of how my mind is pretty much always this full of 5-10 different thoughts about which I could blog. I fill notebooks. Though lately I’ve been trying a one-notebook approach which has been an interesting switch from my previous methodology of scribble notebook, blog-post notebook, and official journal. This post would probably also include an update on the progress of my River Song journal, which is still accumulating, but much more slowly.

12. Thoughts on calendars and the various holidays all over the world. I recently made a list which had limited space and I had to choose which holidays to include. I would have liked to include them all. The reasons that people declare annual celebrations are fascinating to me. I also find it fascinating that no matter the tradition or geographical location, August appears to be a holiday dead-zone. I wonder why that is.

13. Working on building relationships with kids individually and thinking of them as people rather than collectively as “my kids.”

14. Those blog posts continuing the series about financial structures for creative people.

15. I’m sure there was something else, but I’ve forgotten it now. If it is important, it will come back to me. I’ve had to learn to trust my brain to circle back around to important things.

I had insomnia on Sunday night. This happens to me occasionally, usually because my brain won’t stop thinking about things I’m stressed over. Sunday’s insomnia had a different flavor. I felt quite floaty and relaxed, yet still kept bouncing awake as if the transition into deep sleep had somehow turned into a trampoline. I finally dropped off around 3 am. This meant that Monday was a high energy, focused day. My body shifted into overdrive mode to manage the sleep deprivation. Tuesday was the other end of the pendulum swing and I got nothing much done. More frustrating was that Tuesday night was a reprise of the bouncing awake phenomenon. I was not pleased. Also I have much greater sympathy for the folks of my acquaintance who suffer from insomnia regularly. Though hopefully in the future I can confine my sympathies to normal waking hours.

Patch out grew his bike. Gleek’s bike is the perfect size for him. It is also still the right size for Gleek. Prior to this discovery Gleek’s preferred method for cruising the cul de sac was on her ripstik. Now she must have her bike. Patch also needs her bike with a desperation bordering on tantrum. Two kids. One bike. One parenting dilemma. I have the capability to drive down to Walmart and buy a new bike. However I don’t really want to teach my kids that mom will solve their problems with money, particularly since money has been flowing out at a good clip these past few weeks. Multiple trips to doctors, prescriptions, dental work, and automotive repair have all occurred. I’m pausing to think before buying anything. So I’m pondering the problem and enduring daily squabbles. Eventually a path will become clear. Or it will start snowing and make bikes a moot point until next spring.

Tomorrow the kids are out of school, which spikes my ability to get computer based work done. I tend to focus on more physical organization, like house cleaning. I’ve been needing to assemble more Emperor Bundles for awhile. That may fit into tomorrow. Then there are the omnipresent homework projects for my two younger kids. Friday is also a school free day. Saturday I’ll be helping chauffeur Kiki to an anime convention. So the next few days are not exactly vacationish, but I will get to sleep later. More sleep would be a good thing in the second half of the week.

This is why I write, my brain just clicked a solution together. I will offer Patch and Gleek the chance to help me build Emperor Bundles as a way to earn a new bike. I can feel good about a bike as a reward for working. Whether the new bike goes to Gleek or to Patch will have to be negotiated. For now I need to go make dinner. I’ll do it feeling satisfied that the writing process strung together all those pieces which felt disconnected while drifting about in my brain.

See a book on my child’s desk at Parent Teacher conferences. Realize that the book cover and title seems very like the type of book I’ve written. Carefully scribble down title and author when teacher thinks I am writing notes about the conference.

When at home, look up the book at Amazon.com. Read synopsis. It does seem similar in tone to my book. Write down the name of the publishing company next to the name of the author. Scroll through the “people who bought this book also bought” list. Identify more books which look similar to my book. Write down those authors and publishers.

Take the titles to my local library’s online catalog. They do have the book, so the next day when I’m at the library with the kids, take a detour into the adult non-fiction section. Find the book. Peruse the shelves around the book for other books which look similar in content or tone. Shush kids who are playing with the library’s rolling stools. Grab a stack of books to check out.

When at home, sit down with the books and the list. Flip through the books to see who the publishers are. Look at acknowledgements to see if the author names an agent or an editor who worked on the book. Write those names on the list next to author names. Take the list to my computer. Google to identify more agents and/or editors associated with the book titles.

Open agentquery.com and start filling in agent names. See if the agents are open to unsolicited queries. Peruse the “what I’m looking for” list to see if the agent will be interested. Compare the agent’s name to my submissions document to make sure that I don’t already have a query out at that agency. If all looks good, copy the agent’s name and contact information into my “To Query” file.

Google publisher names and editor names. See if I can find submission information. Add that information to my “To Query” file.

I am now ready to send out queries. Each query takes at least 10 minutes as I try to personalize the opening and closing paragraphs. Sometimes I have to print and mail the query.

By this time I am tired of the whole process, so I sigh in relief that I’ve done my job. Either it will sell, or it won’t. For the moment I can cheerfully ignore it… until I happen across another book which looks like it might cater to the same audience. Then I have a job to do again.

I love the idea of this journal. It’s tattered condition implies hundreds of adventures that River and the Doctor have together. Through it they are able to find where they are in relation to each other and then proceed to have yet another adventure. Possibly my interest in the journal is due to the fact that I love journals. I always have. I wondered if it were possible for me to buy a journal with a cover made to look like River Song’s. I googled and discovered that the BBC has released a printable PDF which one can use to cover a journal, but that there is no officially sanctioned journal for purchase. There are several etsy shops which sell handmade ones, but the prices were daunting when I’m trying to cut back on frivolous spending. I sighed and gave up. Or so I thought.

The next day I kept bumping into supplies. My on my craft desk was some dark blue tissue paper and Modge Podge (a decoupage glue) which I’d been using to re-decorate some little metal boxes. Sorting through a pile under my desk I found an unused journal which I bought some time in the past six months. I knew I had card stock, scissors, and an exacto knife. I had everything I needed. So without exactly deciding to, I began making a River Song journal.

I began with this black journal. Having it be black was important so that the dark could show through the tissue paper and make the shadows which can be seen in the recessed portions of the journal cover. I colored over the red line with a sharpie marker.

Next I printed out a copy of the PDF and sized it so that it would fit the cover of the book I had. Then I cut out the pieces as a pattern. I arranged the patterns on the book to make sure the proportions were correct before I proceeded.

I traced the pattern onto white card stock. Once I had it all traced, I glued a second piece of card stock to the back to give it the thickness I wanted.

I used a knife and scissors to cut out the pattern pieces. I deliberately made everything not quite square to resemble the PDF better. Once the pieces were cut out, I arranged them on the book. Then I glued them down using Modge Podge.

I waited for that to dry thoroughly before proceeding. Fortunately this particular glue dries quickly. Next I cut a piece of the blue tissue paper so that it was larger than the book. I applied glue to the cover in sections and carefully pressed the tissue paper down so that it got into the recessed places as well as the top of the card stock. On the binding side, the tissue lined up with the edge of the cover cardboard. Glue does not bend well and I wanted my book to be able to open. I had to be gentle and careful so that I did not tear the tissue paper. I used two layers of tissue, letting the glue dry completely between layers.

I clipped the corners of the tissue paper and then propped the book open so that I could wrap the tissue around to the inside of the book. I glued it down, making sure to slather a layer of glue across the top of the tissue so that it was protected. I also put a layer of glue all across the top of the cover, both front and back.

All that was left was the spine. I cut some pieces of card stock to fit and repeated the process of laying down tissue paper. Again I was careful not to glue anything to the binding crease so that the book would open easily.

And here is the journal completed:

It is not perfect. Intentionally so in some places. I do wish I’d figured out how to give it a more leather-like texture. The Modge Podge is smooth and shiny. You can also see the strokes of the brush I used to lay down the glue. I’m pleased with the result even though it definitely has a home made look. Perhaps as I carry it around, and use it, the shine will wear off a bit. I’m far from the only one who has committed this particular act of geekery. A little googling will find similar journals in leather, paint, knitting, fridge magnets, key chains, and all sorts of other forms.

The question I began asking myself almost as soon as I began construction was what I planned to do with the thing once it was made. I already have a journal. Several. It seemed foolish to spend so much work to make another one. Then I realized that what I loved about the idea of River Song’s journal is that it was full of amazing things all out of order. I wanted a book like that. One where my usual self-imposed writing rules don’t apply. I wanted to see what deliberately changing the structures of my creativity would cause to fall out of my brain. Once I knew that, I also knew what my rules for filling the journal needed to be.

1. Don’t write it in order. When I have something to write, pick a page at random and begin.
2. Date every entry.
3. Write only things that matter to me. Nothing boring. That said, sometimes small and insignificant can also be fascinating.
4. Leave the first two pages blank. Write them last.
5. Draw as many pictures as I wish. They don’t have to be good.
6. I can update, change, or alter anything that I have already put in the book. I just need to note the date of the change.
7. Writing sideways or upside down is fine.
8. Find things to clip and tape into the pages.
9. Neatness is not required.
10. I can make stuff up, write stories, or pretend to be someone else.
11. I can invite others to contribute to the pages.
12. I am the maker of all these rules. I can break them if I wish.

And so my River Journal adventure begins. I wonder where I will travel.

I’ve been thinking about imposter syndrome lately. It is the persistent belief that one has not actually earned the recognition one has received. I think everyone experiences this to some level, the fear that everyone around us will figure out that we’re only faking and then they’ll de-mask us and ridicule. I’ve been feeling a lot of quiet and pernicious imposter syndrome lately, not so much with professional endeavors, but in friendships and relationships. “They’re just being nice because they’re nice people, not because they actually like you.” whispers the voice in my head. These voices are quiet and pervasive, like fog. I discover myself slowing down, altering my choices because of the fog. If I shine logic and rational thought onto it, the fog melts away. I just wish I could find my way back into sunlight instead of wandering around with a lantern. I think it is coming. Things are getting better as I find my rhythm in the new schedule, as we make adjustments to give me time for my creative things, and as I slowly get my thyroid medications balanced again.

Seeing the imposter syndrome inside my head naturally leads me to think back on my assessments of the quality and likely future of Stepping Stones. I was pretty narrow in my expectations during that first paragraph. Am I doing that as a disappointment management technique? Is it me being unable to accept that I have an accomplishment? Or is it an honest assessment of the book and the market? I really can’t tell and trying to figure it out only sends me in useless mental circles. Instead I need to shut out the noise and just do my job. I send out queries. I write something new. I apply faith and choose to believe that my friends and family love me. Then I keep going, headed for the light.

This has not happened to me yet. It may never happen to me. I hope it doesn’t, but I have friends who have been through it. It is one of the risks of having a portion of my life take place on the internet. I am more afraid of this than the drive-by hateful comments or emails. Fortunately at my current level of internet exposure, this is extremely unlikely to happen to me. But I hope to be a commercially published author some day. I will become more visible, a more attractive target. It is one of the costs that I must weigh when choosing the path to pursue.

Edited to add: Thanks to Heidi in the comments I have some additional thoughts on this topic.

Once I was at a large party which had broken into smaller groups. I was telling an anecdote to three people, when the larger group had one of those conversational lulls. My voice ran out clear in the silence and everyone turned to look at me. Suddenly I had an audience of twenty instead of three. My stomach clenched. This anecdote was three-person-amusing not twenty-person-funny. I continued on through, because the alternative was to die of embarrassment. Sure enough the anecdote fell flat and the party moved onward. Everyone there is still my friend, and all is good. But that moment when everyone turned to look to me is seared in my memory because I was unprepared. My fear of internet drama is exactly that fear. If/when it happens to me, I will do as I did at the party. I will speak the words I have, knowing they might not be good enough, because that is all I can do.

I also realized that if the actual soapbox issue at hand were hair braids, it would not fill me with fear. I am firmly and calmly in the camp that anyone who wants braids can have them. Having people disagree with that will cause me uneasiness, because I don’t like conflict, but it will not rock my world. Much harder is when the issue hits one of my many pockets of self-doubt. Then I have to speak up even though I’m not sure I’m right. Terrifying. Also I will then spend the next several weeks stewing over the issue even when I have more urgent and important matters to address. (Me coming back to edit this entry could not possibly be an example of stewing. Nope. Not at all.) I am afraid of the soapbox when I am not sure I have the right answer, even though I know that sometimes saying “I haven’t got a good answer.” can itself be the right answer.

Lastly: Soapboxes are important. It is critical that people who own soapboxes are willing to stand on them and draw attention to issues which matter. I have some soapboxes of my own. Mostly they are dusty because of my dislike of conflict. I still have them because the time may come when I have to stand on one and shout. There are times and issues for which confrontational tactics, like standing someone on your soapbox, are necessary. I understand this. I still hope it doesn’t happen to me.

I have writing projects waiting for me. I’m going to dive into plotting for two books. I have references to read and post it notes ready. I also have a text to read about sentence level construction. Then there are one or two mood books which are in the same genre or have the same feel. I want to read them to feed my writer brain. All of these things are on hold pending the completion of the four essays. If I move on before finishing up, then I’ll lose track of the essay thoughts. I’ll have essays scattered over my work space both physically and in my brain. But if I put them away incomplete, I will never finish them.

Today I sat down for a writer’s hangout on google+. There were four of us writing for 45 minutes and then visiting for 15. Having other people there was more helpful and less distracting than I expected. I stayed in my chair because it felt rude to wander away and not come back. Since I was stuck in my chair anyway, I forced my brain to stop avoiding the essays. I got two done. The two harder ones remain, but I’ve looked them over and am hopeful that my back brain will stew on them and present me with a lovely solution.

For the past week or more, I’ve not spent much time actively being a writer. My focus has been on family and house things with a side order of business tasks. It is interesting to note that rather than feeling like I was suppressing my writing self, I’ve been feeling freed from it. There is a lot of stress associated with seeking publication, and excusing myself from that has been very good. Besides, I have a garden to tend and a dress to sew. The garden will wait, but the dress needs to be complete before August 15 when I leave for WorldCon. Today’s stint with writing also showed me that some of the “freed from” feeling is associated with simple avoidance of effort. I was procrastinating. Having expended the effort and untangled the knots, I feel happy. And my desk guilt has been halved. Tomorrow I’ll do the other half.

Instead I’m staring at the simple words and know that it is time for me to do something again. The ball is back in my court. Instead of waiting, I’m back to researching. I’m also having to quell a whisper of sadness. The tendrils of hope were truncated. It is easy to tell myself the agent didn’t even read the query, but I’m pretty sure he did. It just wasn’t what he was looking for. Then I wonder if the query itself is at fault, if he’d just seen the book then the outcome would have been different. The speculation is pointless. At some point this book will catch the eye of an agent, or it won’t. My job is to write the best book I can, the best query I can, and to send them out. The rest is not my job.

I haven’t the energy to begin researching again tonight. The wisps of sadness are too strong. So I clicked through my regular internet rounds and saw that another person has volunteered to help with the shipping party. Sadness dissipates when faced with such good will. I am fortunate. Then Patch appeared at my elbow even though he was supposed to be in bed. “I just wanted to give you a hug mom.” And he did.

Tomorrow will be full of work. I must assemble a shipment of things for GenCon. I need to help construct a covered wagon for the pioneer parade on Saturday. I need to garden. I’m looking forward to all of these things.