On Refilling Your Creative Well

Cat in a Bucket

Our metaphorical well of creativity contains all we need to make art: inspiration, motivation, ideas. It’s a repository of our so-called creative juices that we draw upon until we can’t anymore for a variety of reasons. When we can’t create anymore, we get tired, burnt out, exhausted and look for ways to “refill the well”.

An empty well, then, implies that we don’t have any creative mojo left. We are all tapped out. I disagree with this metaphor, because I believe burnout doesn’t just happen from running out of creativity. It can also occur when there are obstacles in our path barring us from accessing the well. That distance, that inability to tap into a fundamental part of who we are, creates blockages that lead to exhaustion, even bitterness.

If you’re not creating, the very first question to ask and answer is: “Why?” Knowing why you aren’t creating is an important step. Here are some common reasons why burn out happens.

“I’m stressed out.”

“I don’t have time.”

“I don’t see the point.”

“I’m tired of getting rejected.”

“I’m tired of being underpaid and overworked.”

Let’s start with the first one. “I’m stressed out.” Stress, whether that’s due to pandemic fatigue or not, is an added burden. It may seem counterintuitive, but self-care can be a great path to creativity. Acknowledging, naming, even describing your stressors can help validate your feelings so you can deal with it. Sometimes, it might be as simple as taking a break from social media or falling into a beloved book to give you some relief.

Self-care can also be something small and free or inexpensive. If you “hit a wall”, you might get some fresh air, listen to your favorite song, text a friend, share a joke, etc. Twenty-minute naps, free writes, or meditations are also great!

Sometimes, I go to bed early when I hit that wall. Right before I drift off to sleep, I ask a question about my creative project. More than once, I wound up dreaming about the work and my subconscious figured out a path by the time I woke up.

My goal, here, is not to say you should eliminate all stress because that’s not realistic. Being a human in 2022 is incredibly stressful! I am suggesting that by acknowledging it, caring for ourselves, and getting a little distance from it you might find a wonderful path to draw on your creativity once more.

Walking through another example… Let’s tackle: “I don’t have the time.”

I’m nodding along with you, because time is a precious commodity and a resource. No question about it. You do not have the time. So, to get creative you’d need to find it. That bit, finding the time, is a process that sucks. Either, you have to give up something or you have to sneak working on your goal in a few minutes here and there. It can, in many ways, feel like a punishment rather than a necessary part of decision-making.

My suggestion, here, is not to start by analyzing your time or doing yet-another-deep-dive into what you are or aren’t doing. You are doing PLENTY! Instead, try to change your schedule/routine before adding anything else—including creative time—to your plate if you can.

The other thing about not being able to find time, is that sometimes this is code for “What’s the point?” or “I don’t know where to start.” Or, sometimes even more insidiously, imposter syndrome kicks in and we defeat ourselves before we start. “Why should I create? Who’d care? Why bother?” Only you know if that’s the case and “not being able to find the time” is a way to rationalize the real reason you aren’t creating.

Of course, I can’t tell you how to ask and answer your specific questions, because you know yourself best. I also don’t know your “what”. What motivates you? Is it a person? A goal? A reward? What? Knowing that can be incredibly helpful, because it gives you something to aspire to or hope for.

If your answer is “I don’t know what motivates me,” try journalling or creating a vision board to find that out. You might discover that the reason why you’ve lost your motivation is because you, as a creator, have changed and you need new sources of inspiration you haven’t sought out or used regularly in the past.

Asking yourself questions and finding answers is one technique you can use to be creative again, because it defines, acknowledges, and validates how you’re feeling by giving you a path forward. Sometimes, however, the path forward isn’t “the future”. When you literally can’t plan, you might consider revisiting the past, remembering what you loved, how you used to play, what your happiest moments were.

The last thing I want to say about refilling your well, is that if these paths and techniques sound like a lot of work? Then they are too much for you right now. I can’t stress enough how fresh perspectives don’t typically come from analyzing or following the same path over and over again. Sometimes, you do have to shake things up—which is MUCH harder to do right now—to clear a path.

My solution to refilling my creative well has been to use “one small thing” for my goals. What can I do right now, in this moment? What small, precious thing can I do? Those small things might include: a hundred words, a scene, a chapter, reading a chapter, writing a prompt, writing a pitch, etc. Then, I log that information in a journal. Over time, “one small thing” becomes visible for me, a journey that becomes more evident with each passing day.

I hope, after reading this post, you feel encouraged to find solutions for your creativity blocks. What you’re experiencing is going to be different from me, and I recognize and acknowledge that neurodiversity and your health absolutely factor into this conversation. If you need additional encouragement, however, let me say this: I believe in you. I really, really do! You can find your mojo again. Or maybe, it will find you.

If you are able to create right now, could you please do me a favor? Comment on this post or blog about how you’ve kept creating during the pandemic. Every little bit helps right now, and you never know…someone might stumble across your post/newsletter/update and read exactly what they needed to. Thank you!

The Story behind my Rethinking Fear in Horror Games Interview with Doctor Megan

It’s the Monday after GameHole Con and the week of Halloween. I had a fantastic time and am grateful to have been part of the show as a special guest. Said I wasn’t going to write the day after the show, but I lied. I realized that I wanted to tell you the story behind why I proposed the Rethinking Fear in Horror Games Interview with Doctor Megan at the show for two reasons: One, MeganPsyD (on Twitter) recorded it, and I’d really, really be grateful if you’ll reshare it when it goes live and two, because the long, sordid backstory isn’t appropriate to share with you when the literal star of this interview is Doctor Megan Connell.

All right… So, one of the many work-related tasks I did during the pandemic was to review all the creative projects I wanted to do but never produced. I think I told you this before, but as a transmedia storyteller I love to develop stories in different mediums to tap into the gifts they bring. Working on IP as a game designer was a great push toward that, because I had the pleasure of being able to study the IPs I was working on in different media forms.

But for all those benefits, working on IPs isn’t “my” work. My IPs. Somewhere along the way, I started recognizing I had limited resources to do what I wanted to do. I addressed this in a previous newsletter, but this was one of the reasons why I developed a scarcity mindset. And, look I am really great at project management to usher projects out into the world with the resources I do have available, but at the same time I have always been a high creative and would much, much rather do that.

So, there I was reminding myself that yes, I have always known what I wanted to do. In fact, here’s a pile of projects I remembered stalled because I needed help to produce them. In the past, I have asked for help. I have a gut-wrenching-to-me cyberpunk story, for example, that primarily works as a movie or graphic novel because of the gifts an actor can bring, but also because the use of color is actually part of the story. [Not just a concept, mind you. I do have materials for this.] Okay, so how do I produce this thing? Write a screenplay, right? Sell it? Win the lottery? Yeah, you see where I’m going with this. Mind you, I did place as a co-write in a screenwriting contest and had a door open for a hot minute, but nothing ever came of that. The real reason I didn’t write the screenplay is because I made a choice not to. I have limited resources and, other than paying money to enter screenplay contests and hoping for the best, it’d be challenging for me in my current position to make the connections necessary for a green light. I also spent a solid five-to-six years pitching and getting to know people at comic book conventions because I secretly wanted to do this story, and wanted to work on other comics first to build of my resume, but have since given up.

Both times, I got a lot of advice to form a path of produced works to increase the chances of my projects getting made. My barrier? Again. Resources. Sure, I could self-publish, but that seems to be the default answer every time. It still costs to self-publish. Time is just one of those costs! My personal art isn’t great enough to pursue it; and I cannot, and will not, find an artist to collaborate with unless I pay pro rates. Laughably, what do you do when you do have a resume but it’s either too long or not long enough?

I have no idea. But, I am lucky I have had friends and folks I’ve thought of as mentors who’ve guided me to an important realization: Keep an open mind and do what I can, because the work is for me even if I enjoy entertaining people. I am so incredibly sad to tell you many of them are no longer with me, but I got here—in this creative space where F-bomb it I’m going to do what I can and hope for the best—because of them. Because of my late Shakespeare professor who not only taught me how to appreciate and write for multiple audiences at the same time, but recognized I was a better fit for film. Because of my late friend who made peace with his own role in publishing and his success after talking to so many other creative professionals in the exact same space I am. Because of several friends of color who have had the patience to help me recognize my own privilege (while recognizing there are still challenges as an aging, female creative) and how I can help lift others and build community. Because of one particular black friend (you know who you are and you are AMAZING) who proverbially held my hand for many years, both before, during, and after a tumultuous time in both gaming and science fiction and fantasy to remind me of my own power. Because of the tireless support and the position I put my loved ones, my friends and peers, my writing group, even former publishers in. Because of the lessons I learned after meeting two of my literary heroes, where one crushed my heart to the point where I never thought I’d recover, and the other extended compassion and friendship.

And now, because of Doctor Megan. The project that I am working on with Doctor Megan is a Ravenloft 5th Edition campaign for DMsGuild.com. This is a set of releases that wouldn’t be possible without Megan’s expertise as a professional psychologist and her deep, deep love of Dungeons & Dragons.

As a former World of Darkness writer myself, I have always felt the horror genre contributes narrative potential to explore our shadows. Philosophically, I believe that shadows and light are crucial components of the human existence and, to a larger extent, the stories we tell. But, I also recognize there are a lot of problematic tropes that I wanted (and have to various ends throughout my career) to work through in the hopes it’ll make the story better, my anxiety notwithstanding. (The concept behind my Apex Book Company anthology Upside Down: Inverted Tropes in Storytelling was inspired by this!)

As before: I didn’t write this campaign, because I was missing something. I knew I was missing an important thematic piece that could, quite frankly, only come from someone who understood what horror was from an actual psychologist’s perspective who understood gaming. Then, I got lucky. Megan and I met at GameHole Con a few years ago, became friends, play Ravenloft together, and eventually got to a place where I could ask for her help.

This is now our campaign. We playtested two scenarios at this show and got amazing feedback. Now it’s a matter of, again, figuring out my resources. I have to prioritize my deadline-centric work, because without a publisher I am fronting the time and costs and friends, I got bills to pay. Then there’s the collaboration with an actual professional who has a day job, loved ones, etc. But, this campaign is a possibility now because this story required collaboration, and it’s all happening thanks to her.

So why THIS interview? Well, because I can’t imagine I am the only writer who’s worked on horror games, who wants to evoke that feeling of fear at the table in a healthy way, who’d be both curious and feel a little less anxious about this heavy genre work after hearing her expertise. Horror game design is hella complicated, yo. And before you freak out… Please know that horror game design from a psychological approach is not always about The Deep StuffTM or massive genre changes—even small tweaks make a world of difference.

I am extremely grateful to Doctor Megan and to GameHole Con for approving this talk. The room was packed, her voice was heard, and with any luck she’ll go on to huge, huge things.

As for me? I really don’t know, but I have a long-ass list and deadlines I need to keep crushing (while seeking out new opportunities). And I’ll keep muddling through all this the best I can. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even find a little more help along the way.

Wouldn’t that be something.

The Other Side of Ciao

There's a trojan on your computer

In preparation for a few posts about my writing process as it relates to my original work and projects like Dark Eras, I wanted to talk (eep!) a little bit more about me. To be perfectly honest with you, this is the part I hate. I don’t like talking about me half the time, because I feel there’s a certain level of complexity that human beings have, that cannot come across via the internet in writing. Too, I’m fairly private as well, because I tend to deal with my own b.s. and then move on as best I can. Today I’m going to try, because this will relate to a future post about my work and my research process that I’ve honed over several years when writing about other cultures.

I’ve mentioned before that I grew up in a cross-cultural household, and that I’ve never really felt that I fit in to “a” specific culture. When I went to London a few years ago now, one of my friends noticed how I really was of two worlds, the old and the new. Though I’m not a hundred percent Italian, the culture (regionally, this would be northern Italy) dominated my formative years. If you are not already aware, like many countries there’s no such thing as Italy being “one” culture and there’s often a lot of assumptions made about Italian-Americans thanks to shows like Jersey Shore or The Godfather movies. Often, when people haven’t run into Italians before, whatever the popular media has shown them is what they assume and it’s not always good.

I remember being of two minds on the subject of my heritage. Proud and angry. Proud, because while other families forgot how their great-great grandparents came to this country, the idea of “where we came from” was more immediate and present. It made me appreciate being in America, and I fell in love with the idea of the melting pot to the point where I idealized it. Oh, I did. I wanted to know about everyone. (Still do.) I wanted to know about all the different cultures, all the beautiful people with the different ways they practiced their faith or what they had for dinner or what they wore or what books they read or what have you. As a child, I thought America was a place where everyone was welcome, and I was ready to meet everybody.

This is where the anger part comes in. I’ve always been pushed and pulled into this idea that there’s “the one true way” to live, to be, that whatever the dominate culture is happens to be the one that’s “right”, or that the culture you’re born with has to be the only one. (A belief that I fight with every breath I take.) What’s so “wrong” about not discovering popcorn until I was 12? What’s so “wrong” about not having blonde hair? (Yes, I do now. This is called “obfuscation” as I’ve been going grey since I was a teenager. Considering purple!) Or the right nose? Or body shape? Or… For me, I also had an added layer of angst as a teen. I am a very passionate person, and even something as simple the display of emotion can generate comments and rumors. I also talk with my hands as well, and being expressive can cause raised eyebrows, too. And it did. Even beyond personal expression, there’s also issues I had with personal space. I remember how I was helping a friend home who was utterly wasted, and I had my arm around her to keep her upright, and kids driving by shouted gay slurs at us simply because we were touching.

I’m skipping a lot here, including the bullying, but hopefully the gist of what I’m trying to say is coming across. For a lot of people, even though my skin tone was white, and we were blue collar/middle class, I was still “different” and different isn’t always good, nor is it celebrated. That? That crushed me at first. As a teenager, because of my experiences, I went from believing in the melting pot, to convincing myself I had to fit in. I had to wear the latest fashion or dumb myself down or change my hair or do all the things that weren’t necessarily me because this was the way to get people to back off and stop ridiculing me or accept me. In other words, I felt forced to pretend I was unquestionably just like everybody else who was considered to be part of the majority culture, and it never quite seemed to work. I wanted to be invisible, because that seemed easier than the alternative.

No, the story of where I came from cannot possibly be condensed into a simple post, nor are the reasons for the way I was treated in my formative years straightforward. They’re not. To me, though, none of that matters and I am certainly not trying to get into any kind of contest about whose pain is greater. That’s not the point here. None of my terrible past experiences matter anymore. Why? Because while I still struggle with living between worlds sometimes, I am hyper-focused on turning those experiences into something positive, and then channeling that into my work. I’ve said this before, but music saved my life and writing gave me a reason to live it. Without the arts, I’m not sure where I’d be today.

Shortly after leaving home for college, I realized I wanted the dream back, because I didn’t feel that what I’d been told or shown was true. I desperately hoped for the melting pot, the rainbow, and the beautiful people–all of them–back in my head. To that end, and I remember this very clearly, I refused to sit down and be quiet and accept the way things were. I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t know what. And, being young and stupid, oh I’m sure I made my fair share of mistakes trying to figure out the answers to my questions, too.

Over time, I’ve come to understand that there’s a lot of people in pain simply because they are considered to be “different.” While their pain is theirs to deal with, the best I can do is listen and either keep listening or, when appropriate, say: “I will try to understand.” The best I can do, is be there for them because I know what it means to be in a position where no one is there for you. To me, this has nothing to do with being liberal of conservative; I care about what I can do to be a decent human being. Being a good person, I feel, should not be politicized, because that dehumanizes us and reduces us into another pile of stereotypes.

Despite how the media sometimes simplifies it, culture is not a linear, flat shape that encompasses the entire U.S. It ebbs and flows and grows and changes all the damn time, depending upon where you live and who you’re with and where you come from and where you’re going. There’s a lot of things that happen in the popular culture due to propaganda or half-truths being shared, misunderstandings, global events, inventions, popular movies/TV, turns of the season, political leaders, basic internet connectivity, money, etc. Taking all of these things into consideration, the American culture fascinates me, because it’s the most complex, organic structure I have ever encountered, just like how most people fascinate me.

To me, especially now, America is still the melting pot, a mixture of beautiful people who’ll inspire me to write better characters and design more visceral settings. A potpourri of all kinds of people who (thankfully) aren’t just like me. I feel this is cause for celebration despite this country’s horrific past, despite the ways we seek to isolate, separate, and condemn one another now because of the fear of the unknown, because the world is changing. The question that I often ask is: what unites us? This often leads to more questions. What does it mean to be human? What do we all share? What’s the positive side to being unique? How can we come together and have great discussions despite being different people? How can we work together and respect our differences instead of condemn them? These questions, to me, are infinitely more interesting because the answers bring me hope and joy.

Next time, I’ll talk about how these experiences have led me to address writing about other cultures from a position of mutual respect. That post will have a stronger writing focus than this one did, and I’m hoping that my stance on this topic will make more sense now that you have a general idea where my head is at.

Comments are open on this post as well. I’m more than a little neurotic about opening up, so please be kind.

    Mood: Did I do this right?
    Caffeinated Beverages Consumed: I counted four.
    Work-Out Minutes Logged Yesterday: There was walking!
    In My Ears: White noise.
    Game Last Played: Sonic: All Stars Racing
    Book Last Read: Commedia della Morte by Chelsea Quinn Yarbo
    Movie Last Viewed: Painted Skin: the Resurrection
    Latest Artistic Project: Beading!
    Latest Fiction/Comic Release: Last Man Zombie Standing.
    Latest Game Release: Gothic Icons and Smuggler’s Guide to the Rim
    What I’m Working On: Read my latest project update.


Angel’s Fred and Post-Traumatic Stress

Spike and Giles... Together at Last

I’m in the middle of a re-watch for Whedon’s Angel, and I’m now on the last season where our plucky crew has taken the bait and are manning Wolfram and Hart. There’s a lot of great nuggets to draw inspiration from both as a writer and a fan of Whedon’s work, in particular the fact that this series, despite being on the air from 1999 to 2004, is still relevant and innovative for 2015. (And the show’s been off the air for more than a decade, so in my mind it’s safe to discuss it without fear of spoilers.)

While Fred (Winifred Burkle’s) character arc ends terribly and tragically, there is something remarkable about her introduction. Her evolution as a character deals with overcoming her traumatic and terrible situation after being sucked into a hell dimension. Py’lea introduced a tough topic, human slavery, which was something that the writers could address because their owners were demons. Breaking down Fred’s story is interesting, because she’s an escaped slave who finds coping mechanisms to deal with what she’s experienced, to survive.

What I was very interested in, is what happened to her when she returned to L.A. She didn’t magically “get better” and rush into her parent’s arms, the writers enhanced her character by allowing her to show a range of emotions, some of which were caused by post-traumatic stress. To me, this is brilliant writing because her character arc doesn’t keep progressing linearly until she’s totally moved on and one hundred percent better. She has bouts where she tries something new to get past the hurt, but then regresses before dealing with that specific issues. Each problem is different from the last, and she doesn’t necessarily move forward for each action. For example, she tries to go to Caritas, and the place is attacked. But, instead of cowering in a corner, she eventually stands up and grabs a crossbow. She has a sense of survival and that echoes through the way she deals with her trauma.

Her need to survive is something that is part of her nature, and that’s what pulls her through all of her bad experiences. Not because she’s physically stronger, but because she’s strong-willed and this is who she is. Her desire for self-preservation is what distinguishes her and sets her apart from the way other victims are often portrayed in television and other forms of media. When bad things happen to real people? We don’t give up and stand aside for someone else to save us, and Fred’s character reflects that truth.

Despite being enslaved, Fred escapes and finds a way to survive though she’s stuck in a demon world. Despite finding out the truth that she’d been betrayed by a mentor, she doesn’t freeze up with fear and let her professor victimize her again. She wants to do something about it, and that desire to channel her anger by turning the tables on him, a natural reaction, is the source of an argument between her and then-boyfriend Gunn, who wound up removing her free will to protect her from the consequences of her terrible choice. There are other, subtle clues written into her character as well in the way that Fred’s represented by Amy Acker, too, that brings deeper aspects forth. Like how jumpy she is, the way she walks and hunches her shoulders, her outbursts and clenched fists. It’s brilliant all around, and there’s even a slight shift in her character after Angel’s spell to remove all memories of Connor, too.

I’m hoping that by sharing these types of examples with you, you’ll be inspired to take a closer look at some of your favorite characters for inspiration either to appreciate them or learn from them. Lastly, if you’re not familiar with it, here’s how the NIMH defines post-traumatic disorder.

    Mood: I’d like winter to be over now. Thanks!
    Caffeinated Beverages Consumed: I’m so over-caffeinated I need to cut it out today completely.
    Work-Out Minutes Logged Yesterday: A walk. Remarkably. In the cold.
    In My Ears: Coffee is percolating, but I’m resisting it!
    Game Last Played: Ni-No Kuni Wrath of the White Witch
    Book Last Read: The History of Magic by Eliphas Levi
    Movie Last Viewed: Sabotage
    Latest Artistic Project: Ch-ch-ch-ch-chainmaille!
    Latest Fiction/Comic Release: Last Man Zombie Standing.
    Latest Game Release: Things Don’t Go Smooth
    What I’m Working On: Primarily tie-in games work, original comics, and novels.


Intrinsic Versus Extrinsic Motivation

Land of Symphony Avatar

I suppose I could spend the next twenty minutes (or however long it takes to write this) to tell you about my 2012, but since many of my new releases (with the exception of Redwing’s Gambit) debuted later this year — instead I’m going to look ahead and show you an incentive program I’ve designed for myself in 2013. (WHICH IS GOING TO ROCK!)

I’m of the mind that how a writer treats their career is the same as how they’d view a brick-and-mortar day job. I hail from many positions/verticals mainly because I’ve absorbed as much as I possibly can to go into business for myself. At the same time, I’m a pragmatist who always looks at risks versus rewards, which have been reinforced over the years in my day job positions, but I’m not the type to do anything half-ass. I mentioned this earlier, but I don’t write for validation. Here’s the thing. Validation, pet projects, favors, etc. these are all intrinsic motivators. You write a story for a friend because it’s their birthday. You opt to submit a story to a fledgling outlet because you like the editor. You work on a project because you love the theme. That’s great, but those are secondary motivators for me.

Extrinsic motivators, in my mind, are the external or physical reasons why you write. You get paid. You see your books in Barnes and Noble. You have kids to feed. A husband to support. Etc. It’s the end result of your efforts, which can still be a reason why you write, but it’s not the emotional mojo jojo that is influencing your decision — it’s what you get out of it in a tangible, measurable way. (And that last phrase, what “you” get out of it, is a broad spectrum, indeed.)

So what works for me? Extrinsic motivators. I just built a bookshelf to house the published books I am proud to have worked on. These were projects I’m thrilled to be a part of and I’m excited about the finished product. The end result, for a few years anyway, was my modus operandi — but it was not a system that was built to last.

If you’ve read my blog, you know I’ve struggled with the idea of writing for myself on spec and eventually overcame it. You probably understand why. Well, this is the reason — there’s no extrinsic reward. Not right away, anyway. It’s all intrinsic for me, even if I have a polished manuscript to sell, until one day it isn’t. There it is. A published story. I’ve earned money (an important thing) on my words. Another book is sitting on my shelf. If I’m going to treat writing like a career, I have to earn a living, and I can’t do that by writing something that never sees the light of day. Them’s the brakes. No pressure, right?

I realized that if I need an extrinsic reward for my work, then I’m hurting myself by relying on the same type of reward all the time. By focusing on the same old, same old, I’m not marking my progress by what type of writing I’m doing but, rather, by what I publish or get paid for.

That’s dangerous crazy talk for me; this will make sense shortly. First, what a writer has done in their career, the end result, is how a lot of other people judge the value of that author. Oh, you’re not a “real” writer until… [book deal, movie deal, award, famous editor, type of publisher, etc. etc. etc.] This, to the working writer, is damaging because there are a number of factors beyond our control and, more importantly, don’t matter on a day-to-day basis. To write, I have to focus on what I’m doing now — not what has already happened or what’s going to occur. Also, in my mind? If I’m using the same common benchmarks that everyone else is, then I’m not enjoying the journey or the process, and I’m hurting myself by “measuring up” to somebody else. I’m ignoring what happens between “birth” (e.g. the nascent idea of a story) and “death” (e.g. when it’s published or when I get paid) of the story — but I’m the one who has to do the work.

What makes me unique, is my perspective, vision, and voice; every writer has to have some way to protect themselves (e.g. those intangible assets I just mentioned) and I’m no different. As my career grows, I need to rely on some form of extrinsic motivation to counteract the internal processes of creation, something that means a great deal to me. At first, I didn’t see this simple concept, but after a year of trial and error, I now understand why.

Eventually, I figured out that I lose motivation by inches when projects don’t succeed; my mood is horrendous if bad news piles up all at once. Why? Because if the extrinsic reward is either greatly delayed or nonexistent, then those motivators I’m counting on disappear fast. Books get canceled. The project leaders go bonkers. There’s a difference in creative opinion. I’m not writing-for-hire, I’m working for myself. I’m penning a long-term project that won’t see the light of day for a few years. Etc. Etc. Etc. To the public at large, a writer doesn’t seem to be “doing” anything if they can’t see the end result of their work. But this, simply, is not true.

Without anything to motivate myself in a tangible, measurable way, the act of creation withers and fades. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, there isn’t an “end” in the publishing cycle. It’s just how it is. There is no “standard” cycle for book publishing because everyone writes at different speeds, deadlines aren’t the same, and no two writers are exactly alike. Not everybody’s a novelist. Not everybody can write multiple novels. Not everybody will be a best-seller, either.

Now, there are other extrinsic motivators that relate to the writing process. Tracking submissions, word counts, daily goals, etc. All of these count as measurable mini-goals that lend itself to the finished project or end goal (e.g. self-sustaining writer). What I needed to figure out, however, is what kind of extrinsic reward for personal career milestones will motivate me; these milestones are my benchmarks that tell me I’ve accomplished something. More importantly, they occur regardless of what I’m working on — whether that’s on spec or not.

In my case, my extrinsic motivator is a charm bracelet. Yep, I sucked it up and bought a sterling silver Pandora-style bracelet. Then, I rewarded myself for all of 2012 with one bead. This is my starting point. As 2013 progresses, I’ll reward myself after each milestone by adding a single bead to the bracelet. I’ve already picked a theme. The sea. (Primarily because I like skulls as a theme in jewelry and pirates were a creative way to go. Hoping to find a Cthulhu-one!) It may sound incredibly silly, but this bracelet is my extrinsic motivator; not only is it something I can wear now, it’s a piece I can add on to and have a memory to go with each component. And, it’s a constant reminder of the promise I made to myself. Every time I look at this bracelet, I know what I pledge to do this year.

This way, I have a tangible, measurable method of tracking whether or not I make good on that promise. This way, I have a series of small, extrinsic motivators that will happen regardless of what the end result might be.

And this way, I have a method of seeing the progress I’ve made. The more beads I add, the more satisfied I’ll be with my work.

    Mood: Inspired
    Caffeinated Beverages Consumed: Manageable.
    Work-Out Minutes Logged Yesterday: There was cleaning to be done.
    In My Ears: Clubbed to Death (Kurayamino Variation) The Matrix soundtrack
    Game Last Played: Tetris
    Movie Last Viewed: Resident Evil: Apocalypse
    Latest Artistic Project: Holiday gifts
    Latest Release: “The Button” We Are Dust anthology
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