Embracing Human Creativity

 

By Shelley Burbank: This includes an excerpt from my latest PINK DANDELIONS newsletter. 

Dandelion Seeds 

FROM PINK DANDELIONS

With everything going on right now, and in spite of the tasteless, smell-less, sterile poison that is AI’s non-living“breath” seeping into nearly every corner of our human world, I feel something rising in humanity: a desire to turn our backs (some a little, some a lot) on technology and to return, instead, to our humanity. All our messy, emotional, fleshy, smelly, oozy, soaring, dancing, laughing, swirling in circles on the grass, and lifting our faces to feel the rain humanity.

Do you feel it? Do those words grab you by the hand and swing you around? Do they make your heart lift?

Typing them makes me feel happy. I wrote about this creativity era in my journal yesterday, about how I feel as if we are moving into a new phase of life, one that is more connected with actual, living things: people, nature, animals, human-made art and crafts, voices raised in song, feet pounding a rhythmic dance, long hugs, big smiles, and laughing together over a shared experience.

Our new creativity era has begun, I feel it swirling around me, and it brings a feeling of peace and giddiness at the same time. I want to create. I want to share. I want to be in commune with other creators.

I’m dedicating myself to creativity. I’m letting ego and the materialist/capitalist side of the writing life become just a sidenote to the main event. It feels like turning a corner. Here, something whispers to me, is the human-scaled place to dwell.

Read the entire newsletter 

https://open.substack.com/pub/shelleyburbank/p/our-creativity-era-has-just-begun

_____

So, Dear Type M-ers, one way I am dedicating myself to this creativity is letting go of social media. I know I've talked about it a lot, but I've reached my limit of patience with this poisonous, anti-human, dumpster-fire technology. Social media isn't necessary for the writing life, and it's not really all that effective in growing a readership, despite all the hype that it will and that there are no better alternatives. 

I'm calling B.S. on that "common knowledge."

I don't need to outline all the reasons social media is bad for human beings, especially kids, and for society in general. You've heard it all. I've heard it all. I've come to the conclusion that I can't support these platforms anymore, even if it means I'm undermining my writing career. 

But I don't actually believe that anymore. I think there are better ways, especially since the great algorithmic pivot on the platforms around 2019-2020 which severely limits organic reach.

It's a waste of time. It's emotionally and psychologically addictive. It stokes conflict and outrage. 

So, the other day I posted a "this is why I'm taking a 30-day break from social media" reel in Facebook and Instagram. I moved these apps to the "back" page of my phone apps so I don't see them. I turned off push notifications so they don't pop up to tempt me. I'm officially taking a 30-day break, but I'm pretty sure at the end of that time I'm going to abandon my accounts, leave them there as a "calling card" directing people to my website instead, or possibly even delete them altogether. 

I should delete them. Why? Because that's how we take these platforms down. One deleted account at a time. Oh, by the way, some estimates are that 50% of the ad traffic comes from "bots." In other words, when you are paying for an ad and you get charged for an "impression" that impression might be made by a bot, not someone who might actually buy your book. Even accounts are, by some estimates, 10-16% fake. 

It's a zombie apocalypse in there, you just don't realize it yet. 

____

Meanwhile, new mystery novella (137 pages) has launched and is available in both ebook and paperback on KDP/Amazon. I'm really pleased at how it came out, and early reviewers are giving it very high marks and enthusiastic comments. 

Read the description and buy at https://www.amazon.com/Strawberry-Moon-Mystery-Olivia-Novella-ebook/dp/B0GGYX6CJB

Meet Your Next Favorite Female Sleuth. Strawberry Moon Mystery by Shelley Burbank. Olivia Lively, P.I. Mystery Series

• Coastal Maine Setting
• Female Investigator
• Frenemies & Betrayal
• Literary Mystery

This Is Not That Age

Dear Loyal Type M Reader. Shelley Burbank here on this lovely Friday afternoon, writing from Guam. 

I hope your January has gone okay. I know that doesn't sound very optimistic/enthusiastic, but the way things are going lately, it feels like the best we can hope for is "I'm okay. Are you okay? Do you need any support? Hugs? A giant glass of Chardonnay?" 

I'm okay. 

I was able to successfully upload my novella files to Amazon KDP. I've been wishy-washy about the idea of self-publishing, but I figured this 100-page mystery would be a good test of my ability to assimilate to the publishing landscape circa 2026. Dear Reader, I managed, and I'm happy to report that Strawberry Moon Mystery is officially visible on Amazon, available to pre-order, and the publication date is set for January 28! 

This is a mock-up of a Facebook ad that may end up as a post because . . . Facebook.

This entire Strawberry Moon operation is an experiment in self-publishing AND seeing if offering a shorter story at a lower price will tempt new readers to give Olivia Lively a chance to delight them. I'll keep you all posted on how it plays out for me as I do some but not a ton of marketing. My Facebook ad account is a whole 'nother topic. I made the graphic above using Canva. Facebook is giving me a bit of trouble because of my living in Guam. I just can't go into it right now. I don't have the fortitude. I'm tired of talking [whining] about Big Tech.

But I Have Something Good to Share Here

Sometimes I feel as if I'm being a "Debbie Downer" about the writing life, even though my motivation is to offer clarity, honesty, and realism about the state of publishing right now. I realize that my writer friends out there are all-too aware of the literary landscape, so I'm realizing maybe no one needs to hear me yammer on about it. 

Happily, there's something good that I'd like to share. With all this craziness going on in the industry right now and with me wondering, like SO MANY writers, if there is even a point of pursuing publication, I came to a realization: Even if nothing big ever comes of my writing and publishing life, I am GLAD, at nearly 60 years old, that I spent my life writing. It has been my passion for as long as I can remember. It's given me a focus to my life and so many hours of pleasurable work/practice that I can't be sorry I spent all the hours I did. I've also enjoyed meeting other writers, being part of the community. We learn with and from each other, and I'd like to take that to the next level in my remaining years. 

The biggest takeaway from all this is that I have no intention of stopping, even if there's nothing more in it for me than putting my work up on Amazon and ordering some Print On Demand copies for my own bookshelves. 

In other words, I'm once again approaching writing as an art and a craft, not a paying career. I'm giving up that dream. Artists create, even if no one "buys" it or admires it. Artisans create and strive for perfection, even if there's no real market for the pieces offered. 

For a long, long time I thought this was a cop-out attitude. "It's okay to write for pleasure" seemed like a phrase someone who wasn't serious about the writing craft or didn't have enough talent to succeed would throw out there. Now, I'm embracing this idea again, the writing for pleasure idea, only with one  important (I believe) caveat--storytellers need listeners, and listeners deserve the respect of our best efforts. 

It's not enough to write simply for our own pleasure. We should write with the reader in mind, even if that means one reader. Or two. Or a few hundred. In other words, we should still take our work seriously, the way any serious artist approaches their work, the blank paper, the mound of unformed clay, the musical notes dotting the staff lines, the wool in its raw and unspun state. 

Understanding I am part of a story-telling tradition stretching back thousands of years gives me pride and meaning and hope. It also adds a bit of pressure. Knowing I'm not working to SELL but rather to CREATE, I want to bring beautiful, meaningful books and stories into the world. Not just another throwaway, skim it and toss it, same old-same old book. Not some AI slop. I'm not saying my two novels are throwaways. These books did challenge me in the writing, they do have some thematic elements of which I'm happy, and they are written in a style that doesn't embarrass me. They are solid, decent genre fare. 

But is that the best I can do?

I don't think so. I think the books and the novella are the best I could do at the time, but now I'm excited to stretch even further, and with my new resolve, I can move forward now without having to worry about "writing to market" and current trends and all that jazz we are forced to consider when we actually think we can make money on this gig. 

In other words, I'm free. 

I've given up the stupid capitalist dream of making money from my writing. Yes, I said it. I've always believed in capitalism, but I'm beginning to feel the love of money IS the root of all evil. Some people DO succeed in having a paying career, but it's getting so much harder that honestly? I'd rather go back to worrying about craft and art and a solid style and having something to say...instead of marketing and PR and everything that goes along with trying to exchange story for dollar bills. 

Is This Failure Talking?

Have I simply failed? Maybe. Maybe I should care what everyone else (including you) thinks, but sorry. I don't. 

What I've learned--and what so many publishing insiders and professionals are talking about lately--is that I grew up smack at the apex of the "Golden Age of Publishing," a time when publishing houses gave out decent advances, nourished their authors' careers, and readers gobbled up books like candy. 

This is not that age.

The world has moved on, as Stephen King says in his Dark Tower series. The publishing world has moved on, the wheel has turned, and that is okay. 

I hope that by sharing my new resolve and outlook, others who may be feeling the same about the writing life and their chances of "making it" in this industry will be heartened or even inspired to continue the pursuit of the craft of creative writing, not for money or fame, but for joy of the craft and respect of the reader. Let's focus on crafting the most excellent books and stories and forget about sales and popularity.

A Different Perspective - Notes from Alaska

by Catherine Dilts

Routine can be a writer’s friend. Committing to a schedule can be productive. But routine can be a creativity killer. We risk burning out, losing the passion for our writing.

I was pushed way out of my routine, and my comfort zone, on my recent trip to Alaska. One big creativity booster was learning about a very different culture. Most of the population lives near the coastline, lakes, or rivers, unlike dry, high desert Colorado.

Our first morning in Anchorage, the hotel was on a small lake that is an active aerodrome. Float planes had been landing and taking off from the water constantly the previous day. I was enchanted. The air was too foggy early the next morning to fly. The peaceful quiet was soothing.

Anchorage Alaska aerodrome

My husband was still getting ready for the day, so I walked along the lake alone, breathing the humid air. Nothing felt like Colorado. That was a good thing. Why take a vacation to a place that's the same as where you live? I'd seen float planes on TV and in movies, but had never seen one close up.

Float planes in Anchorage

In a state with few interior roads, airplanes are a necessary means of transportation. There are towns and lakes that cannot be reached by road. But my experience with the small planes was several days away. Our first adventure was on very conventional wheels.

We rode the hotel van to downtown Anchorage and wandered around. I had halibut fish and chips for lunch. We met a native artist carving scrimshaw. Then we met up with our bicycle tour.

Scrimshaw artist at work on whale bone

A driver took us to our starting point. We were fitted to bikes and given helmets. Then we were off! For about ten miles over three hours, we learned about the Anchorage area, the plants, the sea life, and the history. 

​Of course Curious George went on the bike ride. 

Curious George ready for a bicycle tour

I live in the land of mountain men and women. Cowboys and cowgirls. Hikers, mountain bikers, and trail runners. Colorado has an outdoorsy vibe. We get near constant sunshine, and fight about access to water.

​Alaska has the same independent feel, but reminded me more of what Colorado used to be like a couple decades ago. And it is wilder. Vast wilderness covers most of the state. There is an abundance of water. Even the sun shines differently, and on an entirely different cycle, than in Colorado.

Anchorage Alaska

​We had nearly two more weeks to experience, and already I was feeling refreshed. Not just from escaping my self-imposed work routine. I was inspired by being in a place with different smells, sounds, flora and fauna. The contrast of climate and culture were inspiring a new perspective.

My Alaska trip will provide background for book three in The Tapestry Tales YA science fiction series, written with co-author Merida Bass under the pen name Ann Belice, coming in 2026. Maybe it will lead to a short story, too.

Routine and Novelty

by Shelley Burbank

What is better for creativity: routine or novelty? 

For the past eight months I've been living halfway around the world in a foreign (ish) country. Novelty. 

However, I knew exactly ONE person when I moved to Guam, and that was my husband. Since then I've met a few of his co-workers and some very friendly ladies in the exercise classes I attend a couple times a week, but I lack the kind of friendships that lead to coffee-dates, mani-pedis, hang-outs beside the pool, shopping afternoons, art museum mornings, and ladies-who-lunch lunches. Much of my time is my own. My weekdays are pretty much the same, week after week, month after month. Routine. 

This expatriate adventure in Micronesia has been a unique combination of extreme novelty and extreme routine all at the same time. Every single day spent in my apartment is pretty much the same, but once I step outside the door--boom! I'm hit by unusual sights, sounds, and smells, not to mention humidity-levels. 

All of this was somewhat expected. I knew I'd be a little lonely. I knew I'd have a cool opportunity to learn about a different culture and corner of the world. I had visions of using this time to write a series of novellas set in Guam as well as a couple of full-length novels set Stateside. So far, I haven't gotten into the kind of flow I'd hoped, and this has led me to contemplate the effects of both routine and novelty on creativity. Here's what I've noticed so far. 

When I am sticking to a routine, a schedule, for writing, I tend to get more done. My fingers and my mind remain limber, and I'm able to put a decent number of words on the page every day. I plow through my outline, scenes and chapters pile up, and I finish projects and meet deadlines with ease.

Routine, then, seems very good for productivity. Sometimes it can even lead to inspiration out of sheer boredom. A desperate voice in the back of my mind whispers, "Please, PLEASE, if we have to sit here staring at this stupid computer screen for five hours today, think up something funny or wild or twisty, I beg you!"

But there inevitably comes a time when my mood dips below boredom into the blahs. The blahs are the enemy of creativity. When ennui hits, nothing seems compelling. Every idea is deemed too dumb, too unoriginal, too unbelievable. This is when creativity needs a hit of novelty. An afternoon at a museum. A trip up the coast. A new exercise routine. A gathering of strangers who might become friends. 

Too much newness or change can backfire, however. Such is the case with my recent trip across multiple times zones for a visit back in Maine. New impressions, new scenery, snatches of conversations in airport dining rooms and gift shops; catching up with old friends and family; routines thrown out the window; a full calendar of visits and visitors, dropping into a dead sleep at 8:30 p.m. from sheer psychological exhaustion. Being overstimulated keeps my head whirling, unable to slow down enough to plan, to plot, to settle into the rhythm of language and story. 

Like eating an entire homemade apple pie in one sitting, drastic change can be too much of a good thing! Instead of a stomach ache I have a creativity ache. Ouch.   

All this might sound complicated, but really this is just the normal ebb and flow in the writing life, despite the fact that right now my ebbs and flows are a bit more extreme. I've learned, through experience, to take each stage as it comes, to be patient with myself on the slow, boring, and difficult days, and to let my expectations slide during those crazy, over-scheduled times. Most important, I try to appreciate those miraculous stretches of days when everything balances and I experience creative flow while conforming to a daily routine. 

Here are some tricks and tips I've used for getting into a creative rhythm while avoiding the blahs:

1. Schedule your writing time. Maybe it's one hour first thing in the morning or every Sunday afternoon. If you are one of those people who can bear down for 10-15 hours a day for a few weeks or a month, go for it. Making a schedule and sticking with it tells your brain, "Hey, it's time to play!" 

2. Make creativity dates with yourself. This is something that Julia Cameron advocates in her book The Artist's Way. She calls it an "artist date" and advocates a weekly, two-hour block of time where you wander in an art gallery or a craft store or take a nature hike or a swim or a concert, anything that is engaging and interesting and fun rather than "work" or "obligation." This is something I need to work on. It's so easy for me to succumb to a rut and ignore the signs of creativity depletion. When I DO force myself to get out of my apartment and into a specialty shop or even a walk along a new section of my village, I feel uplifted and energized.

3. Balance social time and alone time. Your ratio will be different than mine and will depend on things like introversion/extroversion, job demands, family obligations, and your interest in extracurricular activities and clubs (church, community meetings, pickleball league, Boy Scout leader duties, etc.) In my experience as an introvert, I'm apt to accidentally over-schedule my time which depletes my energy, not only psychologically and physically, but also creatively. If you are an extrovert, you will need more stimulation and "people time." Either way, it's perfectly okay to say "no" to any activity that doesn't fit your needs. 

4. Exercise. Walking is especially helpful for getting the creative juices flowing. I don't know why, but there's plenty of anecdotal evidence. See: Charles Dickens and Stephen King. You can combine your exercise time with your alone time or you can exercise with other people. Your choice!   

5. Meditation. I've experimented with this over the past few years, and when I'm consistent with it, I find my ability to focus improves and I'm even able to sleep better.   

6. Try some other form of art. This year I've challenged myself to learn to draw. I'm not very good at it, but when I'm concentrating on an image or shading or coloring, it's like a little break for my writing "muscles." Crafts like knitting or scrapbooking or cooking apply here. 

Right now my head feels stuffed with cotton batting and my eyes are closing. I've had no time for writing or thinking in over a week. I'm zapped from socializing, and this is made even worse by many months of forced solitude to which I all-too-easily adjusted. It will be a miracle if this post makes any sense at all. I hope it does. If not, I tried. Don't judge me too harshly. 

It's been a challenging year. 

Novella Finished and Out With Beta Readers

By Shelley Burbank

Happy Friday, Friends! 

How's your summer going so far? Have you written all the words, read all the books, soaked up all the sun, splashed in the lake or ocean, cooked up some burgers or portobellos on the ol' grill while fireflies danced and sparkled in the long grass on the side of the road? 

For me, this past month has been all about revising Strawberry Moon Mystery. Early beta reader response has been positive overall. I'm hoping with a few tweaks and changes, I'll be able to make it available to readers by the end of September, latest. The more I learn about indie publishing, the less appealing it is, but I'm at this stage where it makes the most sense, at least with this novella.

I'm going to price it fairly high because it's either that or give it away for nothing some other way. Here's my thought: my readers, the readers I'm hoping to attract, will be willing to pay $5.99 for a 120 page ebook. I know the common wisdom is to price it low, but you know what? I think that just signals a lack of confidence and a sense of my work's worth. I haven't decided yet on the print cost, but I think I'll keep in in line with the other two books in the series at 19.99. (It would be so much easier if we could just round up to $20! Especially since we are getting rid of the USA penny! Are any of us REALLY fooled by the .99 on the end of pricing?)

Creativity Webs

Lately I find myself wanting to focus on multiple creative pursuits: learning to crochet granny squares, reading ancient and world history and Guam history, catching up on classic literature I've missed, and continuing to explore art techniques and art journaling. All this plus more story ideas than I can handle. It feels as if I'm spinning a complex web of creativity and getting myself tangled up in all the threads. 

How do you balance your creative life?

I think one way, moving forward, will be reducing my screen time. It's so easy to fall into a nightly television habit. I'm more productive in the mornings, but I could spend my evenings reading the history and literature and knitting/crocheting. One idea was to create a cozy reading space, and so I bought a beautiful, cheery yellow lamp to sit beside a chair in my living room.

I'd like to add a pretty blue and yellow print to the shade if I can figure out how to do it properly. And yes, that's the same knit dishcloth I started months ago. I looked for some floral artwork at the local Salvation Army Thrift Store with no luck, but I was in a hurry. I'll get there again soon and take my time poking into odd corners.

Facebook, Shmacebook

As I'm about to begin "marketing" the novella, Facebook is once again on my iPhone. Am I pleased with this development? No. Simply, no. Hopefully I've figured out how to use the platform without it using me. I hop on. I post. I skeedaddle. No scrolling. Very little hitting the like button. Even less commenting. 

This makes me a "freeloader" and I don't care! 

Hope you have a wonderful week and final weeks of summer. See you in the fall!

Shelley

Have you subscribed to Pink Dandelions, my monthly newsletter on creativity, culture, manifesting, mindfulness, and nurturing your own beautiful life? http://shelleyburbank.substack.com/

[A version of this blog post appeared on my private blog, Shelley's Journal.

Rediscovering the Joy of Writing

 

Happy Friday! Shelley here, once again, from Guam where I'm finding inspiration in the oddest places, like this moldering, broken balustrade overlooking the ocean from high atop a cliff covered in tangled vegetation and littered with trash--beverage containers, plastic bags, tattered towels, even a computer screen coming apart at the seams. 

There must be a story here at the end of the narrow path winding through the overgrown lot. A former resort hotel? Or the vacation compound of a wealthy Japanese family destroyed in some long-ago typhoon? I could probably research and find out, but I'm not sure I want to. I'd much rather imagine. 

Often there's a strange beauty in the broken things. A piquant nostalgia for what once was and could have been. An acknowledgment of a particular failure and the world and life moving on just the same. 

JOY 

Conflict--external or internal--is the heart of story. We put our characters through the proverbial wringer, squeezing the emotions from their arcs, pinning them up to dry on the narrative clothesline where they once again take shape, billowy like sheets or white, button-down shirts. They come off the line at the end of the day smelling like sunshine and grass with a faint, clean whiff of Ivory soap.

In our own creative journeys, we writers and artists also find ourselves conflicted. We are dumped into crucibles of our own making or of someone else's. The heat's turned up. We're bashed around. At this point, we must either adapt, change, or (metaphorically) die. 

I recently went through an intense period of creative questioning, searching, and ultimately changing, fueled by reflection on the last several years which involved publication of two novels; social media engagement and marketing; disappointing royalty statements; learning how to use a graphic design app for making marketing materials like headers, social media images, and reels; an experiment with Facebook ads (these worked but I disliked the process); wrangling with an expensive website that required coddling and fixes too often for my liking; and countless hours reading and listening and studying and watching "experts" on the topics related to "selling your books" and the publishing industry in general.

My conclusions? Marketing makes me miserable. A creative life doesn't have to be this hard. A mailing list is key. The publishing industry is a hard, cold, capitalist business. A really, REALLY good book sells itself by word of mouth. Social media is a dumpster, and it's on fire every single second of every single day. A total waste of time. 

My a-ha moment? When I remembered I got into this because of my love of books and my desire to craft stories. I realized nobody can "beat" me at THIS game, the game of writing (as opposed to the game of publishing.) 

If I continue to write, I win. 

If I continue to learn my craft and improve, I succeed. 

This isn't a unique perspective. We've all heard it before, but when it hits you, really hits you, that you don't care anymore if you ever make a living from your writing, or even if you ever sell another copy of your book, you feel a particular and awesome joy. The joy of creativity, purpose, and play. 

AM I JUST A LOSER?

I know what some of you are thinking (because I've thought it myself about myself and others. Yup. Not proud). People who have failed resort to this sort of thinking to make themselves feel better. 

I nod and say in reply, Yeah. And what's wrong with that? 

Is it more noble to feel terrible every day? Is it more worthwhile to pout and rail about the unfairness of life and publishing? Does it serve creativity to concentrate on failure and despair rather than joy? Is suffering somehow a better, more elevated outcome than happiness? 

How perverted that perspective!

Given the choice, I'll take happiness in my creative life, thank you very much. Publishing's game continues on. Rules change. Someone's gonna "win" and many are gonna "lose," and I'll watch from over here on the sidelines, stoic and detached, while others fight it out. I'd rather concentrate on my craft--something within my control--and revel in this lightness I'm feeling. 

I haven't felt this good about my writing life in several years. I'm listening to podcasts and reading articles on craft not on marketing. I'm enjoying the challenges of narrative structure, of thematic choices, and progressive plot complications. I'm about to rip my current short story to pieces and start all over again, and I DON'T CARE how long it takes me to get it right.

So, if you are struggling with these same dilemmas and are feeling like all this marketing and social media and striving are sucking the joy out of your creativity, consider setting all that aside, at least for now, and focusing just on the work for awhile. 

When you've finished something, send it out and see if anyone bites. Then forget about it and get back to the page . . . where the joy lives. 

----

For more on creativity, purpose, and nurturing a creative life, check out my once-per-month, free newsletter, PINK DANDELIONS. This month's issue is below. Click to read. 

Tariffied: Impacts on Publishing, Writing, & Creativity

Hello, Type M Readers & Writers:

Shelley here reporting from an island in the Philippine Sea and feeling very weirded-out by everything going on over there on the mainland. Guam is a far-away outpost of the USA. My husband works for the Department of the Navy. We've been on island since January, trying to get our bearings. It would have been difficult in normal circumstances. 

Now I don't know whether to be grateful to be off the mainland or terrified. 

I'm a worrier. When my husband decided to apply for this position, November's election hadn't yet happened. I voiced some concerns about what if things go sideways while we're there, but we decided to take a chance. Yup. We chose this, so I can't complain or say it was totally unexpected. That it's toward the worse end of the spectrum of outcomes I'd considered saddens and alarms me. It's not the absolute worst. Yet. But we are darn close to China here. 

One thing I can say is that all this chaos and uncertainty is impacting my writing. I'm trying oh so hard to build a creative sanctuary in my head and my home, but short of turning off the news altogether and living in a fantasy world of there's nothing happening lalalalala puppies and unicorns, I don't see how I can ignore the sitch out there and concentrate on fictional narratives. 

Perhaps I should consider it a challenge. If I can manage to flex these concentration muscles now, I might be able to continue to create no matter what happens in two weeks, three months, or four years. 

I mean, haven't some authors written works while actually jailed? 

A quick Google search pulls up a list of ten best books written in jail. These include Le Morte d'Arthur by Sir Thomas Mallory, Don Quixote by Cervantes, and Justine by the Marquis de Sade. (Note 1)

Okay, so if Mallory could write while moldering in the not-so-cozy confines of a 15th-century prison, certainly I can write while holed up in an ocean-facing condo in the beautiful, tropical island paradise that is Guam. And honestly, diving into fictional worlds might be the best antidote to the news cycle if I can only get myself to ignore it. 

My new table, cushions, and pillows on the balcony

I'd love to hear how other writers are handling this. Feel free to comment. 

Publishing and Writing Community Impacts

I try to immerse myself in the literary life, but even the book world news is somber. I've somehow signed up for a ridiculous number of Substack newsletters, and one came in today from a new indie publisher of mid-life women's books, Empress Publications. They are just launching a new nonfiction book on mid-life women's sexuality written by a medical doctor. They contracted with an artisanal, women-owned press in China to create a pretty book on bamboo paper. (Note 2)

Now, because of the new tariffs and closing of the de minimis loophole, the book is going to cost a lot more to get into the hands of readers. Who wins here? Anyone? 

Maybe the environment? All this mail-ordering and purchasing cheap throw-away goods isn't so good for the planet. As someone concerned with sustainability and over-consumption, I take this as perhaps the only positive glimmer on a dark sea of awful. But books? We keep those. We pass them down. They aren't throw-away items. Not the good ones anyway. I digress...

The de minimis exemption was a bipartisan law passed by Congress that allowed shipments valued under $800 per person per day to enter the U.S.A. without duty charges or taxes. According to the National Foreign Trade Council, American small business plus consumers benefited from the exemption and provided low-income communities access to affordable goods...including books. (Note 3)

That's not the worst of it. Almost everything that is sourced outside the U.S., including paper and books and ink and parts for printing presses, etc. is going to have increased tariffs. That means production will slow or goods will cost more or both. I think the publishing industry at all levels is going to suffer. 

Between cutting funding to libraries and museums and now these new tariffs, one has to wonder if our country cares at all about readers, authors, booksellers, literacy, books, or the arts in general. Is America ditching reading and culture altogether? 

Some may protest: "It's not me that's doing this!" Well, I'm sorry, but we can't pretend we aren't part of the country that is making these decisions. When our country does something...WE ARE doing it. If we let these actions continue, we are doing it. If we don't gather together and tell our representatives to go in a different direction, we are doing it. 

😀 Maybe this will all turn out just fine, and I'm worrying about nothing. 

Some of you may sincerely believe this is just a small bump in the road and everything is gonna be okay. I sincerely hope you are right. If I'm worrying about nothing, that will be the best outcome. I'll have only grown some new gray hairs and maybe shaved a few days off the end of my life. I'll even give credit where credit is due. 

I may not be feeling the fiction writing right now, but I do seem to be capable of writing opinion essays. Maybe this is just where I have to dwell for now. Meanwhile, I'm researching for a potential series set in the 1960s, so I'm not completely wasting my time. I have books to read, notes to take, ideas to spin. 

Let's hope this chaos calms down before summer. 

Note 1: https://www.theguardian.com/books/2009/sep/19/books-written-in-prison

Note 2: https://open.substack.com/pub/alisajones/p/zippers-tariffs-and-the-price-of

Note 3: https://www.nftc.org/de-minimis-a-vital-tax-exemption/

 

Creativity & Manifesting Your Dreams

    

Today, I’m going to share some excerpts from a recent essay I sent with my newsletter, PINK DANDELIONS. Not because I don’t want to write something specific for Type M, but because this is what I’m thinking about this week and anything new I tried to write would probably just rehash all this anyway. 

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower 

Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees 

Is my destroyer. 

And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose 

My youth is bent by the same wintry fever. 

 –Dylan Thomas Lately 

I’ve been thinking about what I call “the creative energy of the universe,” what it is, how it operates without and within us, whether it’s simply a phrase to explain the inexplicable–OUR inexplicable–drive to create, thrive, succeed, manifest, or if it is actually somewhere, substantive, other, extra, above. 

    Can we find ways to connect with it or tap into it or use the force, I wonder? Or is it simply a concept? A wordy way to explain an ephemeral feeling that there must be something out there besides ourselves, or something within ourselves beyond flesh? Or both? 

     I believe in manifestation–tapping into the creative energy to make things happen as you want them to. Manifestation is inspiration (one kind of energy) plus action (a different kind of energy). If you set your sights on an accomplishment and take actions to help yourself as best you can, you end up accomplishing your goal, often through circumstances you couldn’t predict.

    That doesn’t mean something magical happened in the sense that saying a prayer or casting a spell made it happen just POOF! Prayers and spells are ways we focus our intentions. If we focus our intentions, we make certain choices in our actions. Our actions cause reactions, often leading to what we envisioned. 

     It’s kind of simple, really. 

    One thing I’m pretty sure of: You can’t really manifest if you don’t know what you want. 

     Now that I’ve accomplished the goal of becoming a published author, I’m not sure what I want. I have a dollar amount in mind for earnings. It’s modest. I don’t want to be famous, but I do want a loyal readership for whom I can create beautiful, entertaining, and uplifting stories. Also a modest number. What I don’t know is how I want to move toward these goals. 

     Traditional publishing? Indie publishing? Selling on Amazon? Selling from my own online shop? Creating a Patreon? Getting an agent? 

     It’s hard to envision the path forward. I’m in a holding pattern. I’m confused. I’m uncertain. I’m a pool a stagnant water. The force isn’t blasting against my roots or driving the flower of creativity through the green stem. 

     Here are some steps I’m going to use to move forward. 

     First, I’m going to get into a regular exercise, meditation, and journaling routine. Eating fewer carbs–especially sugar and pasta–usually helps with any brain fog I’m experiencing. 

     Second, using journaling and visualization and a vision board, I will figure out what I want my personal life and career to look like by this time next year, the year after, and five years from now. If you don’t know where you want to go, you will end up somewhere you probably don’t want to be. This step is crucial. 

     Third, with these outcomes in mind, I will think up definite steps to take and will work toward them every day. Calendar journals work well for this step. 

     Fourth, I will celebrate milestones and actions taken. 

     With some concrete inspiration and goals plus action steps to take, I believe I can create the creative literary and personal life I imagine. Maybe these steps will inspire you as well. Remember, creativity comes in many forms: art, home decor, cooking, writing. You can even see your LIFE as a work of art, one you create every day, each day a brushstroke on the canvas.

Welcoming the Unexpected

Journal Collage Cover

By Shelley Burbank

One of the best parts of coming to the last page of a journal is starting the first page of a new one. No, it’s what comes before that. It’s picking out a new journal with a beautiful cover or, in my case, creating a collage cover that will inspire me over the course of filling the pages. I use no set dates. I start when I start. I write when I feel like it. I stop when I get to the last page, even if it’s a random day in February. 

Soft, leather books with wraparound ties. Pretty floral designs with gold-embossed letters spelling “Journal” and/or the year. Plain, black moleskine notebooks. Marble or other decorated composition books. I’ve tried all of these, but my preference now is to buy a spiral bound, college-ruled notebook with cardboard covers and make my own design from magazine cutouts, bits of pretty papers (even cocktail napkins), ephemera like ticket stubs or postcards, and even ribbons or buttons.  

This year I completed my last journal not long after Christmas. This wasn’t planned, but that meant I could create a new journal right at the new year, coinciding not only with my 57th birthday but also with a huge, life-changing move halfway around the world to Guam, a tiny speck in the Pacific barely 36 miles long and 12 miles wide.  

I’d been approaching this big move with a great deal of trepidation. Not only that, I’d become disenchanted with the whole publishing/marketing/PR side of my writing life, especially the social media aspect, at the same time. Here I was with some book projects started and stalled, another project planned, and feeling meh about the entire industry and unsure how to attract new readers and keep my writing career moving forward. A downward spiral seemed imminent. 

But I had a journal collage to create. 

Feeling cranky and uninspired, I gathered some magazines around me, grabbed my scissors and a gluestick, and tried to relax so that my subconscious could do its work.

At first, I couldn’t find anything I wanted to use for my collage. I cut out a few things, pushed them around into different configurations, testing the design. Nothing felt right, but then an advertisement with a clear blue-green background and butterflies caught my attention. I cut out a big chunk and laid it on the journal cover as a potential background layer. My mood lifted. That color felt like tropical beaches, far-off coastal skies, and luxury. It felt like something I could work with. Something appropriate to my adventures ahead.

Once I had the color, more images popped out for me. A dragonfly in golden brown hues. A ripped bit of cocktail napkin from a pack my friend gifted to me last summer. A turtle. A caftan. Sunglasses. 

Aha! My inner self knew I needed a different, positive approach to this move. Lean into it, my muse whispered. I cut out a starfish and a postcard and, most important, I spotted a writing prompt in Magnolia magazine reading: How can you approach each day open to the unexpected?

THIS, I thought, heart lifting. This is the attitude I needed moving forward. Openess to the new, the strange, the unfamiliar, the unexpected. 

Sure enough, not long after completing my journal collage and writing a few entries, a new story idea popped into my head, and I quickly wrote in the journal as the narrative formed. A character swam up from the depths. Who was she? What was her story? Why does she decide to go to . . . Guam?  

Everyone who said to me, “Well, this adventure should inspire some new writing,” had been right! 

I now plan on writing a series of stories set in Guam featuring my new character, a woman my age but not my circumstances (although she is a writer!) who decides to sell her home and move to that tiny speck in the Pacific. She (I don’t know her name yet. Katrina? Lindsay? Lynnie? Brooke? Marley? Tatum?) found a mysterious postcard from Guam addressed to her now-deceased mother, sent in 1973 from a man my character’s never heard of. Part of her journey will be discovering what this man mean to her mom, but really the postcard just gave her an idea of where to go when she needs a new start. 

Using long short stories, or novellas, I’ll be able to share my Guam experiences with my friends, family, and readers. How and where I’ll share them remains to be figured out, but I’m happy to be feeling creative again. In the end, I want my life to be about creativity and books and writing. 

Living your own “good life” is an art. I encourage you, my friends and readers, to be creative in your actual daily living. Find the things that make you happy and incorporate them into your life as much as possible. Be aware of the passing of your days. Make each day meaningful in little ways with your own rituals. Be deliberate in your choice of meals, music, books, collections, furnishings, and daily tasks.

How can YOU welcome the unexpected as we head into 2025?

Encouraging Your Muse

 Catherine Dilts

Waiting passively for “the muse” to whisper in your ear is like sitting in a dark room waiting for someone to turn on the lights. There’s a point at which you need to stand up, walk across the room, and flip on the light switch.

There are periods when writing fiction can feel like slogging through a murky bog. Other times, the ideas rush like a clear mountain stream drawn downhill by gravity. There’s an undeniable ebb and flow to creativity.

What happens when a writer has gone days, weeks, or months without a visit from their muse?

Creativity can’t be forced, you might say. To which I counter: people do all kinds of things to trick their brains into being in the right state to perform various tasks. I recall finding my younger daughter sitting in her room with a text book and a candle. She explained that she was training herself to be focused to study whenever that scented candle was burning.

Ah, a physical cue. Like brewing coffee in the morning as you get ready for work. The smell of the coffee, even more than the caffeine, is a signal for your brain to switch gears.

Routines and triggers can cause you to anticipate an activity, but can they make you feel creative? Yes. I believe you can trick your muse into showing up, just as you can steer your brain, if you consistently use the same techniques.

All of the techniques. Because your brain is a crafty creature, and dull routine can sap creativity. So change things up.

Routine: Yes, I just said dull routine can sap creativity. But a routine is essential for convincing your brain that it’s that time of day. Time to write! Use scent, sound, and scenery cues. Like my daughter’s scented candle, smell is a powerful trigger. Some authors need the sounds of a coffee shop, while others need noise-cancelling headsets, or certain types of music. While writing an as-yet unpublished novel, I played late sixties to early seventies music constantly, to set my mind in the time period. 

Confidence: Believe in yourself, your message, and your skillset. There’s no greater drag on creativity than self-doubt. If you falter, “fake it ‘til you make it.”

Keep going: When you think you’re stuck, or become bored with a project, push just a little bit longer. You might make it past that speed bump and get rolling again.

Step away: The polar opposite of the above advice? Not exactly. The step away technique doesn’t simply mean quit writing. Work on a different story, writing-related social media, promotion, or research.

Touch grass: the youngsters use this phrase to mean “step away from your electronics.” Get off social media, peel your face off your computer/TV/phone screen, and go outdoors. Sunshine and fresh air have wonderful healing properties. Get grounded in nature. Or focus on a different type of creativity. Crocheting, painting, tying flies, or cooking, like making a batch of my annual gingerbread dinosaur cookies shown in the photo above.

Lately, I’ve been experiencing an upswing in creativity and energy. I know this feeling isn’t permanent. There will be times when my desire to hammer away on my keyboard flags. This time of year, there’s no grass to touch. But if I hit a slump, maybe I can touch snow to jumpstart my creativity.

Creative Longings

By Shelley Burbank

I was chatting with an artist friend of mine, Sharon, about creativity.* Sharon once wrote a novel. She always wanted to be a writer, or thought she did. She’s very talented. She can write a beautiful sentence, build a story, and conjure characters from thin air.  

Writing, however, made her unhappy. By her own account, writing took her to dark places, made her miserable. Dealing with the publishing landscape multiplied that misery by a hundred-fold. After much soul searching, Sharon realized she and writing needed to break up. Instead, she turned back to her first love, art. It is as if the sun burst forth from the clouds.

Since taking up sketching, painting, and other visual art again (plus interior design, to boot), she’s light, happy, fulfilled, and practically blazing with joy. It’s been wondrous to behold. 

Here’s a not-so-secret secret: I wish I could draw. Draw, paint, all kinds of visual art. I’ve practiced. I can sometimes do a passable facsimile of the thing, but drawing doesn’t come naturally. The urge to create something in visual media comes naturally. The act–the muscle memory and the eye–not so much. (Collage is satisfying, and I’ll do that for myself when the mood strikes. For my own enjoyment.) 

I love illustrated books and stories. I envision these illustrations and want them for my stories and think I want to make them. If I’m being totally honest, though, I think what I really want is the finished product. I’m not that interested in the process, and we all know that process is the good part when the art’s real inside. When the art’s part of you. 

An illustration by me

Today I told Sharon, “I’m jealous of artists. But I remind myself I can enjoy it without having to DO it.”

“That’s where I’ve gotten to with writing!”

“Why do I think I have to DO everything????”

“Girl, if I had that answer for myself, I’d share. We both have the ‘I bet I could do that’ gene.”

“Right,” I said. “I bet creative people just get urges to create. Maybe it’s that simple. So do the one you’re best at. Support the rest.”

That last bit hit me, even as I typed it. Creative people are often drawn to multiple disciplines, hobbies, arts. Piano lessons in grades 1-5 taught me I’d never be a musician, even though I enjoyed playing my favorite songs well into my college years. Sometimes I suspect I’d be good at sculpture. Or pottery. Or weaving. But I’m old and wise enough now to know that’s ridiculous. 

I learned to knit and tried spinning yarn for a while, loving the idea of fiber art. I had fun playing around with the spinning wheel and drop spindle, looking at fiber art magazines, day-dreaming about natural dye processes. I carded, rolled, spun yarn, and knit a scarf from mohair roving…

Reader, it didn’t stick. 

My one true passion has always been books and writing. Writing is where I’ve put my energy and my ten-thousand hours. Writing is my art form. 

I can appreciate all the arts. I can listen to Mozart’s Queen of the Night aria and sing it at the top of my lungs in the car all alone, but I’ll never sing opera in public. I love theater, but find me in the audience on opening night clapping my hands off. I’ll pick out beautiful handspun yarn at the Fryeburg Fair and admire the woman spinning directly from her angora bunny in the corner. I’ll follow visual artists on social media and sigh with admiration over the designs, but my collages and art journals will be for myself and for sharing on social media as amateur-at-best pieces, not for professional purposes. I’ll buy hand-thrown pottery, art prints, handmade quilts, and fabulously concocted desserts. Yes, my heart will ache a little to do all these things, but I can resist.   

I don’t have to do it all. Writing is my medium. I can support the rest.

_________

* Names of people in my essays are changed and sometimes the characters are amalgams. The conversations are real.