First, I burned out HARD on writing. My original plan for 2023 was to whip out Flynn Nightsider and the Ire of Inferno in the spring, between editing Brave New Girls stories, and have it out in time for Gen Con in August. Hey, I'd done just that the year before with the second book in the series, Flynn Nightsider and the Shards of Shadow. All I had to do was follow the same timeline as 2022! Easy peasy!
All right, so I also committed to composing a few short stories for various anthologies, but those were little projects. I could just slot them in and still knock out my novel.
Except my brain had other ideas. After constructing an outline I was happy with, I dove head-first into the manuscript and... made it to about Chapter Three before my mind went splat. I'd just stare at the open document and tumbleweeds would blow through my skull. I still managed to hit my short story deadlines—hey, I made a commitment! — but other than that, I just couldn't bring myself to be productive. I ended up rewatching Star Treks Voyager AND Deep Space Nine, then binging a bunch of trash I can't even remember.
Well, this kind of thing has happened before, and I found refuge in my other activities. Activities that I took up to get away from writing. Activities that I was okay with being mediocre at because they were just meant to be an escape.
But a funny thing happens after you've been doing things for a while... you lose perspective.
Choir was out for the summer, but I was hitting the circus studios whenever I could. And I. Was. Flatlining. Trapeze tricks I'd been working on for a million years weren't getting any better, and in fact some were getting worse (I spent so long trying to clean up my layout that I lost my go-to trick, the split, which I first nailed in 2019). Over on aerial silks, it hit me that moves I was struggling with two years ago (hello, inverted climbs) were still a hot mess that felt nearly impossible. Meanwhile, I watched classmates that had started around the same time as me become more and more advanced.
A big reason for this was that said classmates dedicate a lot more time to what is, for them, a passion. Meanwhile, my training schedule became super sparse thanks to summer travel (turns out you can't reeeeeeally gain strength by climbing a thing once every other week).
Suffice it to say, I was felt like a loser by the end of summer. And I was determined to get myself back on track after Labor Day.
AND THEN THE PLAGUE HIT. No, not that plague, though I almost wish it had been because it'd be easier to gain sympathy. But it turns out a run-of-the-mill not-pandemic-y virus can still knock you flat (it's hard to do anything when you cough every other breath). That meant goodbye, most of September (also, that's why I missed my last post).
So here I am, up and about again but even further behind, and really feeling like a loser. I finally managed to buckle down and work on some short stories, at least, but Ire of Inferno remains barely written. Current plan: To use NaNoWriMo to kick it into action. But first, must finish short story...
Meanwhile, my physical stamina is at zero, which is a problem when you've signed up for an aerial performance workshop. It means I get winded really easily, and I can't actually manage to string together the moves I want for my piece. Then I get to watch my classmates be awesome while pouting over what I hot mess I am.
Whine, whine, whine, poor me.
Well, wallowing won't do me any good. So instead, I keep reminding myself how all these things I've been feeling like a loser over are meant to be FUN. I started writing stories because it was FUN. I started climbing fabric and swinging from the sky because it was FUN. And it wasn't supposed to matter how "good" I was at any of it.
Sometimes, I wish 2011 Mary were here to remind me that she only wanted to finish a manuscript, never mind if anyone read it.
2019 Mary isn't that far behind, yet apparently I've still forgotten how she was thrilled that she was even allowed onto a flying trapeze, or could climb two feet off the ground unassisted.
I think it's a natural inclination, especially if you grew up in one of those over-achiever-y households, to think that you must be constantly improving on all things, or else you're falling behind. But that doesn't have to be true... some things are meant to be fun for their own sakes. And hey, what's wrong with a plateau? They can be rather nice!
I'm gonna keep telling myself that while I continue struggling at all the things. At least choir's back in session, and I'm still a decent sight reader.
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