3 Self-Care Agenda Items for Writers Working on a Manuscript
So many of us entered this new year with resolutions. Were you one of them?
I was.
Which surprised me because I’ve been feeling pretty unimpressed by New Year resolutions for a while now.
After years of rigid work-based resolutions in my early twenties (that I never kept), I entered my late twenties / early thirties ready for some self-compassion. I started shifting my focus away from committing to year-long self-improvement projects and toward considering seasonal intentions. Some of my favorite winter intentions of recent years past have been joyful play: painting my nails bold colors, rethinking makeup as everyday drag, experimenting with a diffuser — the kind of body-based adornment that requires you to actually slow down and take care of yourself.
Then, last Nowruz, I leaned heavy into values over goals and wishmaking (i.e. fuck you, S.M.A.R.T. goals).
So, yeah, it was a little bit of a surprise to myself when, last December, I kept hearing myself state this is the year I finish my book.
It’s a little product over process, I admit.
Maybe what surprises me more, though, is the gentle conviction—and excitement—I’m feeling behind that statement.
Gentle as in soft, not rigid.
Conviction as in belief, not obligation.
Excitement, as in desire, not dread.
Which is to say, in years past I think I would have said instead something like this year I should really finish my book.
There would have been an implicit “or else” tagged on and the end— or else I’m not living up to my potential. Or else it will never happen. Or else others will judge me.
What’s the impetus for the change? I mean, probably not one thing (although I have to admit finding the right meds has helped me feel a lot less physical pain a lot more of the time). Certainly the world does not feel safer to me than in years past.
Regardless, here we are. Since the winter solstice, I’ve been steadily writing toward a manuscript again. What this also means is that I’ve been writing in a process journal again as well.
I started this practice of writing about my writing on the advice of a writing mentor in my early twenties. Often, journaling helped me tease out emotional blocks, question internalized beliefs I had about what the writing process was supposed to look like, and reframe my fears. It also helped me learn to resource map who and what I might call upon to help see me through a long-term project.
Curious about integrating process journaling into your own writing practice? Here are some resource-mapping prompts that might help you start.
Who do I consider to be part of my literary community?
Have you ever heard of the term scenius? It’s a play on the word genius. I first encountered the concept in the writer Austin Kleon’s book Show Your Work!, but it was actually coined by the musician and producer Brian Eno. In a 2017 blog post, Kleon explains, “Genius is an egosystem, scenius is an ecosystem.” The word scenius points to the idea that we create our best work in community when we can support and inspire each other.
I know from past experience that I write more (and better) when I am surrounded by artists. Some of my intentions this spring are to attend a book reading at a local bookstore, check out an arts event at Tattooed Mom’s (artist speed dating, hello), wander around the Philadelphia Museum of Art on a pay-what-you-wish day, and every so often skim this community calendar of literary events. (If you are not in the Philly area, I highly recommend checking out whether or not an organization in your city or region has begun a community calendar. Also, pro tip, many of these calendars also include virtual events!)
I also know from past experience that I tend to write more when I have some gentle accountability—whether this looks like bodydoubling or creating a soft deadline with a friend. This is partially why I gravitate toward facilitating writing accountability groups—like 30 Days | 30 Poems coming up this spring—I find them really inspiring! And this is also why I recently asked a good writing friend of mine if she would be open to reading a messy draft of my manuscript in mid-summer. Knowing she’s expecting a copy—also knowing that she is a teacher and only has summers off—is motivating, especially because I know she wants to read it.
What is one step you can take today toward connecting with your literary community?
If you’re feeling unsure who that might be, check out this short post I wrote about finding literary community around you.
Who is part of my support system outside of the arts?
And what are some needs they might be happy to help you meet so that you can make time for writing? Maybe this looks like asking your co-parent if they would be open to making a shift in the childcare schedule so that you can take that class you’ve been eyeing. Maybe you need a change of place and pace, but a writing residency is out of the question financially—do you have a friend who is going out of town and might appreciate a housesitter? Maybe you know someone who is procrastinating on a task (like finding a new therapist — that’s me right now!) and could use an accountability body.
Recently I mentioned to my partner in passing how hard it was for me to live with roommates in the past because I know I write best in the morning before I’ve talked to anyone else (but after I’ve eaten a little breakfast and therefore emerged from my bedroom). My ability to maintain a quiet morning routine is maybe what I love most about living alone. Upon hearing that, they asked me how they could help me facilitate that same experience even when we wake up together. This was a helpful reminder to me that the people who love me are happy to make shifts to help me make time for creativity—simply because they know when I’m writing, I’m happier.
What is an area of support that would make a difference in your writing life—and who is someone in your circle who might be happy to help you meet that need?
How can I practice softness with myself?
Sometimes going to the yoga class is more important than getting more words on the page (and continuing to suffer from neck pain).
Sometimes it is wiser to set low-stakes writing goals that help us get out of our own heads.
Sometimes writing looks like going on an artist date à la Julia Cameron.
What is a reminder about softness your future self could use? Tape it up near your desk or on a wall.
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Happy writing!