Staying Motivated is Partially About Organization

Reflections on Being a Writer and Taking Care

Jan 03, 2023

Hello fellow writers, artists, and thinkers. Today I am going to share how organization has been helping me stay motivated as I work on my book, work towards my PhD in English Literature and Creative Writing, and in writing my newsletter(s).

In my next newsletter I’ll share everything I loved in 2022.

First, I want to encourage you to become a paying subscriber to Entropical Paradise. I know that this newsletter doesn’t have anything “special” for its paying subscribers— that’s by design. I don’t want anyone to be locked out of my newsletter, because I am locked out of several newsletters I love (despite many of them saying they offer free subscriptions to those who can’t afford it). I’m in a PhD program and subsisting on a paltry stipend while working on a book whose advance was spent years ago. So, I want my newsletter to be accessible to everyone.

But, if you can afford it, please support this newsletter as a paying subscriber. And yes, really ask yourself: “Can I afford this?” If the answer is no, that’s okay. Like I said, I can’t afford all the newsletters I’d like to subscribe to. But if the answer is yes, your monthly or yearly support is truly and greatly appreciated.

On Believing You Can Do It

Whatever your “it” is.

I’ve been thinking back to my life before I became a Writer. Yes, with a capital W. Way back when I was in twenties (the aughts!) I wrote all the time (and have the journals to prove it), yet I never felt like I could call myself a writer. I hadn’t published anything anywhere except for online blogs, and people were constantly correcting my grammar. I didn’t have a four-year degree. I felt like I didn’t deserve entry into the “writing world.”

I read all the time and there were many writers I admired, but imagining myself as a writer proved nearly impossible. The whole thing felt totally out of reach.

For me, becoming a writer has been a very slow, late-blooming process. First, I wrote a short story. My first finished short story. And it got published, with the help of a generous editor. This was about a year and a half after my mom died by suicide, and becoming a writer had become a driving force in my life. Her life and death needed to have a purpose for me, and I needed to give it meaning. Or else life was just chaos.

Shortly after my story publication, I went to AWP in Chicago. I knew no one. Everyone had those little tags with their school names and affiliations. Mine didn’t have an affiliation. I was very quiet and observant, wide-eyed. I met Pam Houston, whom I’d admired for years. She was very kind and offered to look at a short story of mine. I sent it but never heard back (I later met Pam again, and she took the time to talk to me, so this isn’t a dog at all. Writers get a lot of emails).

I remember that Jesmyn Ward was the keynote speaker. I’d recently read Salvage the Bones. It’s one of those books that will always be seared into my memory. I waited in line to get my book signed and asked her: how do you become a writer when no one you know is a writer, or even in college, or even doing anything remotely like that? And she told me you just have to do it. That some people won’t understand, and that’s okay. She was so kind and down to earth. I felt I could relate to her, and through her I saw a way towards being a Writer.

Through every working class writer, I saw my way.

That was ten years ago now. Wow. I just realized it was ten years ago. And that quiet little writer who felt like they didn’t have the right to speak to the real writers? Well, my first book is coming out in Spring 2024 (more on that soon).

So, I am here to tell you that you can do it.

Whatever your “it” is.

Octavia Butler wrote many notes like this (via Open Culture)

I am not super into manifesting. The concept of the “Law of Attraction” reeks of prosperity gospel and I watched it wreak havoc on my mother’s life and her sense of agency. Assuming that our thoughts can create tangible, material realities is short-sighted and naive.

That said, I do very much believe that people can change. Embodied practices like yoga and somatics, along with therapy and honest engagement with one’s unconscious patterns can create real, tangible change in people’s lives. It has changed my life, for sure. And yet I still live in a world where I wasn’t born into generational wealth of any kind, and it’s taken me a longer time than most to find my way to anything nearing a life’s purpose. That I’ve found my way at all is a product of my privilege— I grew up around books, I’m white, and I’ve always been relatively well-spoken, as the term is applied in our (racist, classist) culture.

But I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere near my dream of being a writer if I hadn’t worked through my negative self-beliefs, which were mostly unconscious. The belief that I was inherently bad. That I didn’t deserve good things. That I wasn’t capable of having a successful life.

I am still working through those beliefs. In a world where we’re often made to feel responsible for so much— for our economic status and health, for example— it’s a challenge to constantly sift through the core belief that I am personally responsible for my chronic illness, or that, if I weren’t fat, I’d be more valuable to the world.

For me, working through these internalized ways of hating and blaming has been like finding a secret key to finding what truly brings me joy. But the work is perpetual, and requires vigilance. I once thought that I’d be cured, but now I understand that it’s not me who is sick: it’s the culture itself, and I breathe that air every day.

Here is what I ask of you today:

What good things are you afraid of?

Can you find your way to those things in gentleness rather than rigidity?

When was the last time you rested?

What is your “it,” and what tangible things are you doing to make “it” happen?

Now, take a pen and paper.

Write down one tangible thing you can do to move towards your “it,” whether that’s writing, art, parenting…anything. For me, this often leads to another thing. For me, this often begins with organization.

Then, look at your schedule. Find somewhere in your schedule for rest. Block it out. Make it happen.

Before you rest, do the thing.

Because I am currently revising my book while also teaching two classes and (also) taking three PhD course and (also) writing newsletters and (also) finding time to rest, I’ve been focused on organization a lot lately.

Here’s what I’ve been doing:

At the beginning of every week (on Sunday, or Monday morning), I collect and write down my priorities for the week. The things I need to do.

Then, I break those things into segments.

For example, I’m revising my book, so I have a word count I need to reach by mid-February when my revisions are due. I’ve broken this word count down into monthly, weekly, and daily amounts. Each day I need to meet or exceed my amount of revised work, and progress to meet my word count goal in the manuscript.

This is flexible, because I am cutting portions of the book, but it’s also rigid, because I have a deadline.

If I meet my daily word count five days a week, I get a full weekend. If I don’t, I still get a weekend.

I am forcing myself to have weekends because I burned myself out last semester. I will not compromise my weekends.

I have listed my work by priority. The book is first. Classes are second. Teaching is third. If something needs to slide, it’s teaching.

Really, self-care is first, which is why I am forcing myself to have full, two-day weekends where I only do what I want, or what my body dictates.

I’ve found this method of organization and rest to be so helpful.

But we’ll see how things go once the semester starts next week. I’ll keep you posted.

I’d love to hear your goals, organizational strategies, and/or commitments to rest. Maybe you are too organized and need to be less so. We’re all so different. So, what’s something you’re working towards, and how can you support yourself in that?

Tell me in the comments.