Hi, hello, how are you?
I know. Probably not great. But I have to tell you, I’m excited to be in your inbox.
“Excited” feels like a weird word to use right now. And maybe you’re less excited because everything is hard, and this is another email that is not a response from an editor saying, “Yes! Your idea is brilliant, and I want to pay you $2/word for as much as you can write on this topic.”
But I’m here to try and make you feel a little more hopeful and a little less panicked/frustrated/add-your-own-no-fun-emotion-about-writing-here. And I’m truly excited about that. So thanks for having me.
Here’s what you’ll find in this very first one more question newsletter:
Some thoughts on NOT writing right now
Pitch Calls! These editors want your stories
An interview with author and book doula Amie McNee
What I’m Writing
What I’m Reading
And if you haven’t subscribed yet, please do! There’s so much more to come:
You are doing the work and you don’t even know it.
“So much of the work of writing happens when we are seemingly not working, made by that part of yourself you may not know and do not control, and when the work shows up like that your job is to get out of its way.” — Rebecca Solnit
Last week I bought rollerblades because I felt this urge to move my body in a way that wasn’t just walking my dog or re-crossing my legs on the couch. I’m a regular runner but suddenly any regular, pre-pandemic habits feel more like chores, and I wanted something new that could bring me joy. So I ordered a pair online then drove to Dick’s Sporting Goods in the suburbs for curbside pick-up from a guy wearing gloves to hand me my big box of overpriced hope. I went straight to an empty basketball court in my neighborhood, put on some Lizzo in my headphones, and pretended I was an Olympic figure skater like I used to do in my parents driveway when I was ten.
For an hour, I stopped thinking about everything that’s going on in the world, and I just skated in wobbly circles that turned a little less wobbly as I went, and eventually I was gliding with my eyes closed, feeling so damn good. The sensation of bumpy asphalt beneath plastic wheels rumbled through my body with the thrill of remembering. My legs found the movement—push, glide, push, glide, swoop, spin a little, wobble, don’t fall, glide—like they’d been waiting and waiting for me to do this thing again. Ahhhh. Yes, this.
I didn’t write that day. I should be looking for more work right now, and I didn’t do that either. But I did have the idea for this newsletter while I was twirling around out there. And now here I am. Finding a way to write.
I’m going to go out on a limb and say that writing is very difficult for all of us lately.
There’s a global pandemic going on. And you’re supposed to be creative? REALLY? Maybe writer’s block is the least of your worries. People are sick and scared and jobless. Maybe the thought of trying to write is just too much right now.
Whether you’re trying to write because you must, or you’re not at all because you must, I think many of us who consider writing a significant part of our lives are running into similar doubts and fears. How do we align our work with this moment? And do we really have to? How do we focus? Or Refocus? And what are we even trying to focus on?
Trying to reshape your work to fit this new reality can seem like an impossible task. It’s all moving so fast, and it’s all downright exhausting.
So maybe just don’t.
I came across the above quote from Rebecca Solnit recently, and it made me feel better about how much I haven’t written these past few weeks.
What’s happening in the world is hard, and a lot of us are going to spend a lot of time not writing, whether that’s because we lose work or we just can’t find the words.
This newsletter is all about writing, and encouraging you to keep doing it. But I believe the not writing is important, too.
Whatever you’re dealing with in this moment could very well turn into a story that offers wisdom or guidance or much needed comedy to someone else at some point. And the boredom some of us are experiencing could open doors to writing about things that seem completely removed from this scary world. (Like, I now want to write about my childhood obsession with figure skating and how early aspirations of what we wanted to be “when we grow up” secretly live on.)
But you have to live it in order to write about it. You have to live it to write about anything else, too.
So perhaps right now is the best time to stop trying so hard to write and instead make space for that other kind of work—the work of living and experiencing and allowing our minds to meander away from the page where we might just find something we didn’t know we wanted to say.
However you’re getting through this, work is being done. And you’re doing a great job.
Whatever is happening inside and around you will find its way to the page when it’s ready.
In the meantime, I highly recommend rollerblades.
I also love this perspective:
Pitching Opportunities
Oh but you still need to make money? Right, right. That part is super stressful, too. I don’t have the answer to how we’re all going to make enough money through this. But I do see A LOT of editors* who are still calling for pitches. Each week I’ll highlight a few of them here:
*If the editor’s email isn’t in the tweet itself, it’s probably in their Twitter bio.
And here is list from Study Hall of publications that are NOT taking pitches right now.
Meet Amy McNee: Author, Creative Coach, Book Doula, and Creator of The Journaling Compendium.
“Our culture is absolutely drenched in stories about productivity and laziness. It's important, in times like these, to be gentle on ourselves, and allow ourselves abundant, unadulterated rest (with no side order of guilt).” — Amie McNee
I’m trying to spend less time scrolling through Instagram lately, but whenever I’m on there I find myself watching Amie’s stories or reading one of her posts and feeling a little better about wherever I’m at creatively that day.
Amie McNee is the creator of The Journaling Compendium, a 30-day collection of journaling prompts and guidance that encourages you to “excavate your soul, take control of your bullshit stories and recognise your magic.” I’ve never met her, but she has inspired me so many times, and I know she’s responsible for helping many writers produce the work the world needs from them.
I love how Amie encourages all writers to be kinder to themselves. So I asked her a few questions about how the heck we can all do that right now.
How has the distraction of the news impacted your writing recently, and what is one way you manage that?
I am moving between moments of wild, abundant creation and slow, lethargic staring into space at the moment. There doesn't seem to be an in-between flow state right now. I feel like the energy of the world is partly frantic and anxiety-inducing and partly very slow, very unsure, very timid. I can feel both those energies within me. Partly desperately wanting to do something to connect with people over this time. And partly just needing the space to numb out and do very little. It is strange and unprecedented. So I am trying to give myself permission to move and be however the moment takes me.
How does your journaling practice relate to your other writing work? Has that relation changed at all lately?
My journaling practise helps me understand who I am, what magic I am wielding, and what parts of me need healing. In that way, it informs all of my novel writing. It allows me to articulate myself clearer, sink into issues that I want to be vulnerable about, and it gives me a clearer voice within my storytelling.
I often think about how my daily practise of journaling influences my art but there's never a clear answer. I can only imagine that it is changing the way I write my novels in a million tiny different ways.
Is there one prompt from your compendium you'd be willing to share that could be helpful to those who are struggling to be productive or creative right now?
Is your worth connected to your productivity? Do you believe that you must earn rest?
I think, in times like these, where a lot of us are in very different circumstances, rest is an important thing to consider. Our culture is absolutely drenched in stories about productivity and laziness. It's important, in times like these, to be gentle on ourselves, and allow ourselves, abundant, unadulterated rest (with no side order of guilt).
What is one piece of advice you can offer to writers who feel like their work is irrelevant or suddenly less important in the face of so much global unease?
Oh baby, your work has never been so important. Not ever. In our darkest days, we all turn to art. We need the respite, and safe haven of other worlds and story telling. We need you more than we've ever needed you. Share your work. Write the books. Tell the stories. So many of us are sitting on our couches, scared, unwell and we are finding peace in listening to podcasts, audio books, reading, watching tv, looking at art, listening to music. That is OUR TRADE. We are the only respite people have right now. It's time. You are so important.
What I’m Writing
The Green Dream of Portland, Curbed
I pitched this idea to an editor I’d previously worked with after attending some climate activism meetings in Portland. Those meetings introduced me to all of these issues facing the city I live in, and it didn’t seem like anyone was talking about them outside of that group. It was a challenging opportunity to heavily research something I wanted to know more about, regardless of whether I was writing about it. The publication timeline was a little frustrating. I wrote this article in January, so I’ve been nervous about things I wrote changing before it was published. (And they have. There’s no heavy morning commute these days in Portland.) But it’s out in the world now, and I’m really proud of it.
What I’m Reading
Recollections of My Nonexistence by Rebecca Solnit
one more question
Most weeks, a writing prompt will live here. But this week, I want to know what you want to read in this newsletter. What are you struggling with in your writing right now? What kind of writers and experts do you want to hear from? Do you have a writing project I can help promote? TELL ME! I’d love to hear from you.
You can email me at Britany.robinson@gmail.com or find me on Twitter.
That’s all for now, friends. See you next Wednesday!
And please, if you enjoyed this, it would mean so much to me if you shared this with a writer friend or recommended it on social media. 💛