Encouraging Yourself — Finding the Thing That Keeps You Going

Last night I went to the bookstore with my mother. While we browsed some books, mostly we poked around the selection of beautiful trinkets my local bookstore carries. After we'd selected our treasures, I said, "I have to go to the children's section."

Not looking for anything in particular, I headed over, happy to be surrounded by the books I love; the land I live in. My mother stayed behind look at other things while I made my way around the books, sometimes reaching out to pull one of the shelf, sometimes just to touch the spine. It's a quiet thing I do, being with the books even if I have no intention of buying one or evening reading the jacket copy.

Because here's the thing: sometimes I just need to be with the books. When writing feels tiresome and I'd rather be doing something else; when I fall behind on my schedule and I'm not sure I can make up the time; when I'm tired; when I doubt myself; when I become strapped with the worry that this book might not go anywhere and the question of am I just wasting my time; when I wish I had something more to show for all my hours and efforts; when I need inspiration; or when I really need to somehow, someway feel closer to my dream — these are the times I need encouragement most. These are the times when I need to go do something that perhaps no one else can do for me. I need to find that thing that will keep me going. That thing that touches my heart strings. The thing that encourages and inspires me. The thing that is most meaningful to me.

So here's way I do:

I just stand there. In the bookstore, in the children's section, I find my area of books: intermediate fiction. Then, I stand in front of the books and I admire the spines. My eye jumps from color to color, from title to title, taking in the physical books in front of me.

I think about the covers. The authors. The hard work that went into this seemingly effortless and beautiful story that is just patiently waiting to be picked up by the right hands — to touch just right heart. I move slowly from shelf to shelf, my gazing settling on the names of various authors, sometimes purposefully, sometimes at random. And then, after I've taken in the books and moved quietly amongst the shelves, I think to myself, "That could be me. This could be my book." And then sometimes I feel a bit tearful as I know that day will eventually come — that someday, I will see my book on the shelf. Someday, this dream will come true.

And then I am ready to work again.

You see, I usually don't tell people this. It's kind of vulnerable, admitting how deep this personal hope of mine really is, even if most people know it about me. And I know to some, this practice of imaging my book on a shelf might seem silly, but it's what keeps me going. In a way that nothing else does. Sure, I am hugely dependent on the support of my loved ones, the encouraging words, the excitement of new story ideas, and my honest love of writing itself. But seeing these books on a shelf, it just gets me differently. It makes me feel hopeful in a way that's hard to explain.

So whether you're a new writer or a veteran; an artist or a singer, I would encourage you to find a way to encourage yourself. Find your thing that gets you through — the one that inspires you in that unique, personalized way. Because it helps. It really does. And it bring you that extra boost of energy you need — an energy to keep working hard and to an energy to see the joy that sometimes gets hidden in the pursuit of your goal.

Slow and Steady — You Will Finish the Race

Oh, revision. That's what I've been doing lately. And to be honest, part of me misses the days of writing and creating, though of course, within revision both exist. Still, I miss the feeling of cranking out the pages and getting the story down on paper for the first time. There's something thrilling about that. Whereas writing is driving down a road never traveled, revision is going back and making the path smooth. There is beauty in that, to be sure, but it isn't always as thrilling. Some days I love it more than others, and I know some writers just rejoice in the land of revision, but right now, I kind of wish I could go back to that exciting, fast paced, write-it-all-down-before-it slips-out-of-your-mind kind of feeling.

In this first round of major revision, the pace isn't fast. It's not a whirlwind. It's slow and steady. I am not the hare in the proverbial race with the tortoise. I'm the tortoise. Moving along, getting it done, but certainly not impressing anyone (namely myself) with the speed, and not really doing anything flashy. Yet, there is a lot to be learned from this venerable animal:

The tortoise never gives up. He works at his own pace, allowing for the best work to be done instead of only completing a haphazard job. He is self assured. He doesn't allow a comparison to another animal's style to mess with his own, proven way of working. He is dependable. He will not burn out. He is self aware. And he will finish the race — with pride and integrity and just the way he was meant to.

We all have times of being the tortoise. Currently, this is my season. And at first, I felt slightly downtrodden with my lack of speed and flash and the basic need to just keep moving along without the excitement of the first draft. But actually, it's okay. It's more than okay. Working steadily, at your own pace and in your own style leads to the best work getting done. It leads to something you can be proud of. A piece of art that is well produced.

Revision is not easy. It requires commitment, and it requires that we go through each sentence with a fine-toothed comb. But rushing isn't going to help anyone, and it certainly won't benefit the quality of your work. And ultimately, revision is about producing quality work. So if you're revising, or just feeling stuck in the mire of writing, or struggling to get started, just remember the story of the tortoise.
Remember he is admirable and smart, dependable and able. And then work at your own pace, knowing you will finish. Because you will finish, and with commitment and dedication, you will produce good work.