A Love Letter to Writers...

So I was originally going to title this post, "I gave him my heart, he gave me a pen" and discuss reviews and how to weather them and all of the feelings that come with public critique. But the fact is, I don't really know the answer to that and I'm sure there are many writers out there with way more skills in teaching you to develop a thick skin than I have.

Instead, I'm going to blog about writers. So as some of you know, I just got back from a writer's retreat in Savannah with my online author debut group The Fourteenery (yes, my debut is 2013, but it's pretty late in the year so they let me slide in).

The trip itself was pretty amazing. Yes, I started writing again (woot!). Yes, I ate a ton of food. Yes, I got lost on a run and had a panic attack. Yes, I cried a lot. Yes, I laughed even more. And yes, Amber Lough did refer to me as Jesus at one point during the weekend.

Here's the thing about writers: when you meet them, wherever they are in the process, they are generally so FOR you. I suppose there is competition and weirdness about publishing and indie vs traditional and for hire writers vs stand alone writers and commercial vs literary vs whatever the hell you call my broken kind of writing (psychopathological drama?), but I have been pretty lucky in not experiencing that. Mostly, I've been completely gobsmacked by the kindness and love of other writers.

I see it every day, all over the place. A general willingness and excitement for others to succeed. I see writers offering crits and feedback to other writers. I see writers beta reading and helping line edit and generally supporting other writers on days of suck. The fact of the matter is: we are each other's biggest allies. We promote each other's books, we read, we tell people about the books we love, we buy books as gifts, we go to book signings, we squee online when cover reveals happen, we congratulate and console. This is the writer life.

And it mostly happens online, which for some people is a bit weird. But to be honest, this is where our colleagues are unless we go to retreats or conferences. So I guess you sort of need to get used to it. And be willing to put yourself out there a little bit.

The bottom line: I adore you, writer friends of mine. I'm grateful for your presence and for all the gifts you give me. I hope you all succeed. I hope you sell the books and are happy with your lives. You all deserve it.

XXOO,
Christa


P.S. Speaking of conferences, Jolene and I and many of you all are going to SCBWI in LA in one week. I love this conference because I get to see old friends and I get to see Jo who lives in Alaska so it isn't easy for us to connect otherwise. And I'm so very grateful for this. For all my writer people. Come find me if you're there. I'm the sort of tall, loud one.

Silencing the Voiceless

So yesterday, I stumbled upon this article about the banning of Laurie Halse Anderson's SPEAK and I have not been able to stop thinking about it since. I'm going to put aside the ridiculousness of considering a book about rape to be "child pornography" for the time being and instead just talk about book banning.

We all joke that we should be so lucky to have our books banned because it will increase our sales. Kids love to read that which they aren't supposed to, right? And while that may be true, the reality is that book banning sucks. It sucks for authors, but more importantly it sucks for readers. Because no matter what banned books might do in bringing up issues of freedom of speech, etc., the truth is that banning books keep people from reading books that they may desperately need.

And now I'll talk about banning books that address difficult issues. I think why it hurts me on such a visceral level that SPEAK continues to be banned is because I know so many people who needed that book. Similarly, I know so many people who didn't realize they needed it and it turned out to be life-changing for them.

The fact of the matter is that for teens, disclosing rape is often difficult and more often than not, they do not first disclose to parents, teachers, social workers, authorities, etc. They disclose to their friends. Did you hear that? They disclose to their friends. So now, we have completely untrained teenagers being the first people to hear when a rape happens. And that is a turning point for them and for the survivors. Because what these friends say MATTERS. If friends victim blame or slut shame or ask questions like, "What were you doing with that guy? How come you drank so much? Why did you wear that? How come you stayed out so late?" then the survivor will absorb that information and that may be the thing that stops them from ever talking about it again.

Which, let me tell you if it hasn't become abundantly clear with recent media, this silence will eat them alive. So the irony of Laurie's SPEAK being silenced is so sad and sickening. Because of course the theme of the book is about talking. Which we must do, whether it makes us uncomfortable or not.

The article stated that the blogger felt that boys were made to feel uncomfortable reading passages out loud. I don't even really know what to say about this. I'm not super interested in people's comfort levels when it comes to rape and open discussions. I am drawn to things that help open minds and hearts, help teach people, help people respond appropriately to hard topics. SPEAK does this. 13 REASONS WHY does this. THE ABSOLUTELY TRUE STORY OF A PART-TIME INDIAN does this. These books have all been banned. A lot.

Teens are first responders to a multitude of issues that their friends face. If we give them no tools, no resources, if we refuse to engage in discussions that might make them uncomfortable, we perpetuate silence. We make rape victims who already have been disempowered feel as if they have no voice.

I cannot condone this. Ever. SPEAK. SPEAK. SPEAK.

The Fear of Change...

The last few weeks have been filled with all manner of "endings" and "new beginnings". I know, it is the WORST kind of cliche, but the end of the school year always brings about a lot of goodbyes (graduation, "moving up" parties, girl scout "bridging" ceremony, end of the year picnic, last day of Sunday school). And the start of summer always brings about a lot of firsts (first day of summer reading program, first day of summer vacation, first day of camp). May is typically a BRUTAL month for me because, to be perfectly honest, I am TERRIBLE at transitions.

Part of the reason for this is that I don't want to say goodbye to anyone. Ever. If you are one of the rare people who I've ever dropped off at the airport at the END of a trip, you'll know why. I am a blubbering mass of sobs. And don't even get me started about when I'm saying goodbye to people who are leaving for their next big life adventures. Poor Ricardo (my awesome teen beta for the past few years who is headed to college) must have thought I was never going to let go of the hug I gave him on Sunday.

The other part of the reason is that I just don't do well with change. I'm not OCD about it, but I do take longer than the average person to adjust to things. This is sort of hilarious considering the number of jobs I've had, the number of places I've traveled to, and the number of times I've started to write new books. But the fact of the matter is, while I do accept and roll with changes, there is always a certain amount of time needed wherein I am paralyzed by what I've decided will be "inevitable defeat". Where I fear my choices, where I second guess everything, where I convince myself I'm a total lunatic for doing this and should crawl back into my shell of safety.

These past few weeks, I've had to deal with a lot of changes both personally and professionally. And yes, I'm sure everything will work out in the end and really many great things have started to happen already, but that does not change the fact that I SUCK at accepting change.

Nor does it change the fact that change happens whether I want it to or not. Kids grow older, people quit jobs, teens go to college, teachers have babies and don't come back to school, friends leave for new adventures, life moves on.

So I've had to go back to the wisdom of magnet that was on my fridge for almost all of my childhood. You know, the cliche that actually is grounded in a lot of smartness if you think about it. The one about God granting you the serenity to accept the things you cannot change, the courage to change the things you can, and the wisdom to know the difference. (No, my parents weren't working the 12-steps or anything, they just liked to pick up these sorts of things at craft fairs).

So here's what I can't change: I can't change other people's timelines. I can't change other people's choices. I can't change other people's emotional landscapes (as much as I want so much to make them better). I can't change the weather. I can't change the passage of time. I can't change which books sell awesome and which books don't (if only). I can't change contract negotiations between book sellers and publishers. I can't change the reviews on GoodReads. I can't change that boneheads exist who say ridiculous racist things about Cheerios ads.

Here's what I can do: Believe in myself. Ask forgiveness. Ask for help. Pray. Spend time with my friends and family when I'm lonely. Hug my kids longer. Choose to let go of insecurity, jealousy, doubt, shame and whatever other garbage is keeping me from doing my job. Write. Revise. Edit. Read. Be my word as much as I can. Say yes. Say no.

It is sort of amazing how much burden can be offloaded by the words, "Well, there's nothing I can do about THAT so I guess I'll just keep going." How much time do you spend stressing over things you can do nothing about? For me, in the past, it's been quite a lot. But now I realize how heavy the sack I'm carrying has gotten and really it's partly because of all the bricks in there that are out of my control. So this summer, my goal is to leave those at the side of the road and only carry that which I can do something about.