Morning darklings,
I read A Year in Practice by Jacqueline Suskin the other day. It was all about the seasons and creativity following the ebbs and flows of the sun and weather and how much we are like the rest of the animal kingdom even though we try not to be. It spoke to me. Listening to her poems, her lists of words, her visuals of just being in the season had me thinking of my own place in creativity.
I loved the idea of becoming a seasonal creative. I scrolled back through my month-to-month notes about books and breaks and medical health in the last few years. I saw a trend despite expecting to see none. It turns out, I already am one. And only when I buck the system do I have trouble. Well, that and when malnutrition laces its fingers in mine, walks beside me, tugs me down like a toddler wanting to share a secret.
Usually, though—usually, I follow a pattern too. It’s not just like hers, mind you. But when are we are just like anyone?
We’ll start with the months that near us first, ending with the month we’ve just begun.
June—August:
Jacqueline describes summer in poppy words like fun, participation, nurturing, joy, distraction. There are sudden events that tear us away from focus. That’s not summer for me.
In the early summer, when it still feels like Spring to other places, there are days I’m so alive I can’t do anything but create, but write. Later in the summer, when we have one or two weeks hotter than the heat I moved from, there are days I am so foggy, I can barely focus on Love Island. I stay in. Occasional events I go to take work to participate in. I sit in front of a fan with a homemade popsicle filled with chunks of peaches I swear I’ll eat again one day in nothing but underwear and a tank top and try not to die. So I waffle in the summer. I may write something in its entirety or finish the last gasp of a project or write on many stories to abandon them by the time the first leaf falls. Maybe I format a book or tinker with old things to see if I can revive them. I’ll collect beautiful photos, listen to new music.
It used to be my favorite time of year. I enjoyed my tan, sticky skin and swimming in the pool until my fingers were dried raisins. Now, I burn and peel. Now, I am allergic to chlorine. Still, I love summer for the vegetables and fruits it provides, for the flowers that thrive, for the hot rain that drives me to my back patio to dance even when my whole body aches and I need my cane to stand. But creatively-speaking, it’s a hit or miss time.
September—November:
Autumn is about preparation, Jacqueline says. It’s a time for gratitude and gathering supplies needed for a creative winter, spending time with family, looking for a project to complete before the darkness of winter approaches for an extra boost of confidence. I enjoy this idea of completion for happiness sake, as I wrote a whole collection of short stories for just such a reason. The idea of gathering and planning is also very prevalent in my autumn.
The scent of autumn, the damp earth and spice and chocolate and roasted meat and burning wood the season brings can calm me in a way nothing else can. By far my favorite season, I take full advantage of it. I find reasons to walk amongst crunchy multi-colored leaves or visit a pumpkin patch, though I don’t bother carving pumpkins much anymore. I used to go to every autumnal event, every Halloween event, every book event I could go to. These days, I’m intentional with my time—not just for energy’s sake, but because my brain is on fire.
I am at my peak as the mornings get colder and darker and demand a cuppa or two, not just request it. I am moved to write at all hours of the day, paint or melt or glue or chop or bend or print or snap or mold. Creativity grabs hold of me and won’t let go. So though I’m invited to do more reading events in autumn and most of my favorite activities are in autumn, I find myself sneaking as much time as I can to create. I’ve seen this in the form of starting something new and writing it in a frenzy and turning first drafts into shiny second drafts with more character development and dynamic conversation, with fewer plot holes and dull moments.
December—February:
Jacqueline speaks of winter as a time of gestation, reflection, stillness. She reminds us that bears hibernate in their caves and snow is silent as it graces us with its presence. Looking at my winters, I see that I tend to complete projects, I hunker down in sweaters with messy hair and fluffy socks and edit or finish up those massive art projects. I slow down a lot. It’s cold, so there are only four reasons I like going out: to see friends in a warm place, to see lights and holiday decorations (usually from the comfort of a car with a cookie in hand), for a celebration of winter and the holidays that come with it, or to have editing sprints with friends, also in warm places. It’s a trend that’s not new. If anything, it’s carving itself deeper into my life than ever before.
Winter feels soft. Softness needs flexibility and grace, it needs understanding and fluidity. Water being winter’s element seems to fit well, it seems.
I dig in during these months. Perhaps it’s subplots in a second or third draft, perhaps I’m still writing a first draft or doing a flash edit so I can share with my alpha readers. There’s a rightness to me working on the small details of something, as I notice the Little things, like small birds clustered together for warmth, more in January. There’s also a rightness to me feeling ready to step away from something for a while, just as we shed our winter coats and snow boots.
As the last moments of winter melt away, I begin thinking of what’s next.
March—May:
By the time the weather turns, I am ready to start something new. Jacqueline refers to spring as a time to observe the world, rejoin society, practice patience and praise. She says to remember that not every seed is usable. This harkens of
’s recent article about spring and roots and being afraid.A time of newness—new life, new weather, new energy, new vegetables and flowers—Spring is a celebration. I find myself wanting to start something new, jump right in. That’s not always easy. Only moments ago, I was hunkered. The intent is there, the energy isn’t necessarily accessible yet. So to break through, I go on more walks. I aim for every other day, when before it was only when my body could handle the temperature or it wasn’t raining or I wouldn’t rather stay in to write or edit or cuddle. But there is sun now, and she shines from early morning until late at night. She gave us no warning of her arrival except the date. And who pays attention to that?
Spring is when I decide and begin. I used to think I could have this sorted quickly, be ready to go from one project to the next in mere weeks. I want to begin writing in sunny spots and take days off to wander in flowers. But the weather is still cold, the flowers aren’t all ready to be seen yet, and my mind is still humming. Spring, like summer, is very weather dependent. When it’s still so cold it may as well be December, I’m not inclined to go outside and write on a patio, as I am in the coolest days of summer. In the warmest days of spring? Now that’s a different story.
Which brings us to this spring, this May, today.
I am dehydrated, malnourished, in pain, and just cracked my knee on a table (which is irrelevant but hurts). I am, as a recent Nurse Practitioner told me, operating at approximately 85% of myself. My top tier self is still like 70% of who I once was, so that extra percentage is very important. The 85% of me that’s present is taking care of my health, supporting my family in the ways I’m able, helping out around the house on good days, trying to be a friend of any kind to people I care about, being one of the main people spearheading a collaborative project involving 16 authors, teaching, simply existing. The missing 15% is meant for my creativity. In fact, the NP guessed that I wasn’t writing much or making much art. She asked if the brain fog was making it too hard to do the things and write and make art. It was as if she was watching my day-to-day life, seeing me on the days I can’t do anything else—and it’s not even 10am.
So where am I in my seasonal creativity? Or my creativity at all? I’m in a weird place, if I’m being honest. I’m in a liminal space, contemplating dropping projects, picking up new ones, writing, editing, creating, sleeping, becoming a Twitch person, simply being for the first time in my life (because even during my sabbatical away from novel writing, I wrote short stories). I’m everywhere all at once.
Once upon a time, I would have beat myself up about this. I’m wishy-washy, I’m a quitter, I’m wasting time, I’m not a real writer, I’m not a real artist, I’m just a blob. Instead, I’m just trying to allow it to be what it is. I’m tinkering on all of the books, the ideas, the projects. I’m allowing myself to be listless and play video games and not write.
wrote a piece just a few weeks ago about how she was upset at herself for not writing, but then realized she was. She was creating in so many ways, just not on another novel. So she made a list of things she’s made in the past decade. It included essays and short stories and scripts. I started making one too, of course. But reading that made me realize that I have also done so much—much more than many people with able-bodies, in fact—all because it brings me joy to do them, to spend my time and energy creating.A note: just two paragraphs ago I wrote not write as if I am, right now, not writing. Yet no matter how foggy my brain has been lately, I can write to you, darklings. I have things to share. I worry less about tenses and punctuation and more about content and making sure there is an audio version with each newsletter/essay, but I’m still here writing.
So whatever season it is or isn’t, whether I’m ill or at my best, I’ll still be here with you. I’ll be figuring out my art and fiction as I putz around my house to stretch my legs for a while. Maybe by September, I’ll have things sorted so I can embrace the autumn magic and dive into something for me and only me with full force again. What it will be is anyone’s guess.
my system
I mentioned sharing my new scheduling/get my life together without dying system last week. So here we go! Firstly, I use Bear app on Mac/Iphone. It’s been a serious game changer. But there are tons that work with what the weekly aspect of management that I do. In fact, your standard notes app would do just fine.
I set up to 3 priority tasks for myself each day. That means I must prioritize. This goes back to what A.C. said and I shared with you a while ago about pacing. But it can help anyone at any stage or ability with just a smidge of modification. If you can do 4 or 5 or 10 tasks a day, then change it to that. This is about limiting your to-dos to what you can handle and nothing more. Recognizing it can’t all be done in one day and that resting is important.
For spoonies, Alex Howard, author of Decode Your Fatigue, suggests a day job of any kind takes up one of those tasks. The tasks can include appointments, visiting friends, talking on the phone, making art, writing, emailing people—the big, the medium, and the small. If it needs to get done, it’s in the top 3. Like Myspace only condensed.
The Other section is for hopefuls—research, specific art projects, notes about birthdays happening that I don’t need to do much but say happy birthday for, etc. These are things that I hope to get done, I want to get done, but if I can’t make them happen, another day is fine. Yes, it’s okay if you text an acquaintance about their birthday or anniversary a few days late. There are belated cards for a reason. Life. Life is the reason.
I also link things. I front load some of the work to save myself the time. I check Zillow every Monday, so on Monday’s Other section, there is a link to Zillow with all of my specific wants and requirements already checked off. Time savings, energy savings. It’s the Little things that make all the difference.
And finally, the headings. I found a beautiful images from Cynthia Lahti that spoke to me. I opened up Canva, used the Facebook post setting, and dropped the image in. I added a text box with each day of the week down the left size then saved 7 copies and cropped each day out so I had headings that (if put together) make up the top image you see. It makes it visual and easy to scroll to the date I’m looking for.
Side note: If you’re wondering what a “lying brain reminder” is, it’s simply a list I made filled with positive thoughts, affirmations, and quotes to read when I’m feeling unproductive or shitty about having to move one of my tasks to another day or don’t get an Other done for two weeks. I link it at the top of every week.
I’m currently existing.
I ate an entire “Elizabeth-sized” bowl of broth, carrot, and black-eyed pea soup! I almost wept when I woke up to light cramping and distention. I didn’t wake in the night with sickness or cramps that made me sob, I made it to the morning, and it wasn’t nearly as bad as before. Another week or two of that, and maybe I can take TPN off the table. Maybe we can talk PPN instead. And oh, how much easier that is on one’s body!
I found out how much my life-changing infusions cost. Holy shit! Insurance —even Medicare—only helps so much. I’m glad they didn’t look at my bank account before taking me on as a patient, or they wouldn’t have accepted me. I’m thinking I’ll set up a $20 a month payment plan until the day I die. Joke’s on them; even then they still won’t get their money back.
Unrelated: if you are enjoying my newsletter, perhaps you would consider becoming a paid subscriber? I know everyone wants your money, and every company expects you to fill the wage gap they won’t with gratuity, so I understand that’s a big ask right now. A free subscribe or a quick follow helps too!
I just finished watching Love Island Games and… don’t recommend it? Gasp! I know! But the addition of the games was garbage. Stick with the OG version where a bunch of people are just grafting and falling in lust and crying and talking about not much. It’s far more entertaining and easier to talk through.
And you? How are you existing this week?
Until next time, harness the Little darknesses and embrace the Little things.