The little things add up.
You may have noticed I haven’t posted in a while. Not to worry. All is not well, but all is well, if you know what I mean. I think you do.
I didn’t have a lot of work in August, so at the end of July, I pledged that I would begin a new book and get a good head start on it. I began, and on 31 August, I hit 5022 words on a sequel to Nuala: A Fable. 5000 words may not seem like much (normally it wouldn’t seem like much to me either), but to me, right now, it feels like 5,000,000.
Because it’s something. Its twenty-two pages of something that didn’t exist before. It’s twenty-two pages of “you can still do this, Beach.” To paraphrase Shawna Lemay over on her blog the other day, that’s not nothing.
I’ve learned that (for me), it’s best to set really small goals these days. Then when I achieve them, it feels like a huge victory.
Did I clean out the tupperware cupboard like I was going to? No. Did I throw out all my day planners from when I was a stage manager in the 1980s? Yes, but it took a lot of energy. Did I write some words? FUCK YES.
Also, I’ve been trying to do something for pleasure every day if I can. For the last few weeks, I’ve been culling the massive collection of love comics I own with my sister and my cousin. (I wrote about that here.) They go for huge US clams on eBay. Plenty of dudes (seriously, it’s men in the States who are collecting these things) want these old fish fly swatters we read on lazy days on the beach as kids.
I’ve had great fun finally sorting, listing, and selling them. I keep a separate bank account for the profits and when we’re allowed to see other people again, my sister, my cousin, and I are going to do something RILLY EXPENSIVE.
Here’s the side hustle.
A friend pointed me to a site that gives values of comic books. I spent a couple of days finding my most valuable comics. But something unexpected happened. I’ve been nowhere really but the Co-op, the wine store, the bank machine. You know the drill. As I began to sell these, I realized I’d need to go the local pharmacy where Noreen, the Canada Post gal, would help me put insurance on them and teach me how to pack them properly.
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This project started out as a lark, but now I’m pretty serious about it. What it did was knock down one of my barriers I had up for a long time: Going Somewhere Else. It worked. I put on a mask, went to the Rexall, and had Noreen mail the comics I’d sold.
Might not seem like much, but to me, right now, it felt like going to the moon.
This is going to take a year, minimum, and this is our dining room table. I said to Stu, “well, it’s not like we’re having anyone over for dinner any time soon!”
I think what I’m getting at (I’m not sure) is that as I watched the poplar leaves starting to turn yellow the other day, I was seized by the immediate desire to do things. As though I’d wasted the pandemic worrying and thinking about things over which I have no control. People aren’t wearing masks? I could go inward and rage about it for days (which I have done), OR I can let it go and let those people live their lives. I don’t agree with their choice but I can’t control it.
This tweet popped into my feed yesterday and slowed me right down, in a good way.
Who knows if I’m actually “doing fine” and I don’t think the pandemic is over by a long shot, but I’ve survived (we all have) so far. Once again, I’ll use Shawna’s words: that’s not nothing.
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As I head into the busiest month of my editing year so far, I’m reminding myself that I can still do things I love, and that adding something fun to the mix (writing a new book/sorting comic books) makes me feel less terrible about the world.
I plan to restart the weekly editing tips I had for you in the beforetimes. To me, that’s the point of what I’m doing with my life: helping writers brighten their work. I’m still here, still doing it.