Summer is usually my time to thrive, but my August was marked by a bout of COVID and then a break-up. I sulked for a week, got bored of sulking, emerged from my room, and remembered that New York City turns into a swamp. The city empties out, presses pause and leaves us poor folk to rot. Tired of trying so hard to “turn things around” throughout the bulk of the year, I went to my favorite coping mechanism: giving up.
I give up a lot. A ton. This is probably why I never gravitated towards team sports where being a quitter is a great betrayal. I work best when I have an Emergency Exit mechanism in place, which is probably why I hated marriage so much too. (Thank God for divorce.) It’s why I view passports as magical runes meant to grant you more freedom. Don’t like a country? Quit it. Go to the other one.
So I quit summer, kind of. I stopped trying to make it better. I stopped trying to make it creatively productive. Instead, I tried to make it livable. And by doing that I found different ways to enrich my writing process, without actually attempting at writing more.
I know, I know, I’m a bargain bin Artist’s Way right now. I KNOW. And yet, it seems like every couple of years, I have to remind myself that feeding your body and mind with satisfying, nurturing elements instead of the constant grind and trash TV lights certain fires in your literary loins.
I went to the beach as often as I could and buried myself in a book. Motivated to take full advantage of the new membership plan at a neighborhood yoga studio, I went there every single day. Devastated to discover that exercising every day clears your mind, fuels your energy and makes you more likely to crush your writing goals. Solo dining at restaurants is one of my favorite activities and I decided to resume it. Bliss is nursing a glass of Albariño and slowly making your way through a Jill Lepore roast of Elon Musk without worrying that your fellow diner wants you to, you know, chat.
Once Labor Day passed, the city slowly got into Back-to-School vibes, which in my corner of the universe means readings, museum exhibits, and film. An embarrassment of riches to attend the Franklin Park Reading series, Alicia Kennedy’s book launch, and Aparna Nancherla’s performance at the Bell House in support of her new essay collection. Ever since the Barbie movie, I’ve been trying to be better about supporting film in theaters, like Bottoms, but also streaming more indie, international movies, like El Conde, one of my favorite movies of the year. Did you know New York City has a ton of museums? Keep reading for more insider tips like that one!
And friends! So many friends! Dinner with friends, parties with friends, readings with friends.
Every thing I said yes to was really done in the spirit of simply self-soothing a bit, giving myself a break and hoping that that languishing transitional period from summer to fall was less painful. It had the unexpected benefit though of making me want to go back to my silly little essays. Maybe because I wasn’t putting pressure on myself? (Forever the anti-authoritarian teen lol). Maybe because I felt recharged? Maybe because surrounding myself with art makes me want to do more art?
At some point during this pleasant existential malaise, I decided to track how many words I wrote in a day. For clients, for myself, for applications. It didn’t matter. I suspected I easily cleared 1,000 words a day, in total, but had no real data to back it up. It turned out I was right. Some days, those 1,000 words were devoted totally to client work. Other times though, it was for my own projects.
This was a bit of a reckoning for me. For decades, I have been under the impression that I can only write 20 minutes a day before I collapse into a human heap of despair. But I write for hours at a time, all the time. Since then, I’ve kept track of how many words I pump out in any day. I try to hit that 1,000 word limit, whether through client or creative projects. There are many days where I fail. But it gives me the push to add a little more, even if it’s one sentence.
This might be my new brainhack for now. I don’t think I would have discovered it, though, if I had not given myself the freedom to just have zero goals for a bit lol.
Homework
Make no writing goals for a week, maybe two. See what happens. Maybe the anxiety of not working at all on your writing will bring you back to your chair. Maybe it will recharge you. Maybe it will give you new insight into a project. Be open to the possibilities.
State of My Wallet
August Invoiced: $5, 953.55
August Received: $5,789.27
Still riding high from the summer feast and can do so for one or two more months. Though work has been slower in the past month, it is usually the case with the end of summer. The longer I freelance, the more aware I become of certain cycles so I don’t freak the fuck out when my inbox is quiet for a week or two.
Progress Report
Pitches: 0
LOIs: 5
Commissions: 0
Residency/workshop applications: 3
Events submissions/requests (everything from readings to classes): 0
Contests: 0
Rejections: 3
Acceptances: 3
Total number of submissions for the year: 25
Total number of job-related applications for the year: 25
In the meantime, I have been reaching out to some leads because I don’t want to make the same mistake of not hustling when I’m financially stable and then crying myself to sleep because of financial anxiety. I’m also really hoping to squeeze in one writing residency before the end of the year and have started applying to ones for the first half of 2024.
Shameless Self-Promotion
You can now pre-order Gabriela Mistral’s Desolación, the poetry collection I co-translated!
I’m also opening up my donation-based virtual Tarot card readings! The half-hour sessions are a great way to gain some insight into whatever pressing question you may have or to simply ask for a vibe check. I swear they are not scary at all—I am simply not that powerful lol—and my way of reading is more about talking through what you already know is going on, deep down inside. Suggested donation is $30.00 but you can give as much or as little as you want. Books yours here.