A Letter Has Arrived for You

It contains some hard facts.

Dear __________,

I’m fresh out of writing advice today, so I’m sending you a letter.

Last night was my turn with our 10-month-old. Little Fawn still doesn’t sleep through the night. I’ve learned to stash bottles of milk in a small cooler beside the bed, and if I hastily produce a bottle, Little Fawn usually falls back to sleep without ado. When morning comes I hear roosters starting to crow—they crow when they see the first UV rays of the sun, so they’re crowing before sunrise.

That’s 5 or 6 a.m. My work station is only a few feet from where we sleep, so I’m able to work for an hour or two before Little Fawn stirs. This is a blissful time. The sky is stricken with gold and streaked with pinks, and I can make a coffee and sit in front of the windows and watch the sky, watch the birds. I often write a few paragraphs in my journal and construct a to-do list for the day.

That’s my secret, a well-constructed to-do list.

Today’s to-do list:

make a slide deck for tomorrow’s memoir session (outlining versus discovery writing)

design a handout on a craft technique

*prepare for class

order supplies for the ASLE booth

*write a Rhizosphere post

balance the checkbook

send thank-yous & checks to the beta readers

edit 1 paper from the overdue Magical Craft essays

yoga 15 minutes

ground

walk

vitamins

hang laundry

mix horse feed

mow 30 minutes

On the list I star the most important items, which today was preparing for our memoir class tomorrow and meeting this Rhizosphere deadline. You can see that I didn’t get everything done.

In the margin of my to-do list I note the shifts I have the baby. Today I cared for her from 6-9 am, 12-3 pm, and 6-9 pm. This means I had six precious hours to work, from 9-12 and again from 3-6. I can sometimes squeak in a bit more time if she naps during my shifts; she takes two to four naps, usually 30-45 minutes each, during the day.

Because we alternate nights, she’s with Raven tonight.

I know you think I get a lot done. I do it by staying organized—organizing my thoughts in the morning, organizing my work space, organizing my responsibilities—and by consulting my to-do list often, and by prioritizing. And by working fast.

Some things I can do with the baby, of course. Recently a fairy godmother purchased a jogging stroller for Little Fawn, and it has mosquito netting, so today, for example, the baby happily lounged in the stroller while I hung laundry. She rolled with me tonight to feed the horses. While I did yoga earlier, she played around me, and I held her while I gathered my vitamins.

It’s all a grand life, except for one thing.

A year ago, before Little Fawn’s arrival, I was hitting my stride, and I had tons of energy. I’d realized how empowering a writing life could be now that the Internet allows us to take a different path to publication and finding readers, one in which there are no gatekeepers. Then, my to-do list would contain the task of actually writing. “Write for an hour” or “work on the bog book” or “finish the mushroom essay.”

These days, however, except for these Substack posts, the writing is not happening. I’ve been having huge feelings about that. I miss writing. I miss working on a book. I have tons of book ideas, and I’m not sure how and when I will get them done.

As I was thinking about today’s post, whether to talk to you about abstraction or about outlining, I realized that I don’t even feel like a writer right now. In some ways it’s a correct feeling. We become a writer by writing, and therefore, if I am not writing, I am not a writer.

So having a baby, even a mesmerizing, mystical, and sweet one, has been a huge adjustment.

The reality is that I need to hire more things out. I need someone to cut my lawn; I need a gardener; I need a housekeeper; and I need a nanny. While I’m dreaming, I’ll take a chef, a driver, and a personal assistant.

I know I’m whining.

People help me so much. It’s mind-blowing how much they help. Rachel facilitates the memoir sessions. A participant stepped up and started weekly coworking sessions; another took charge of a writing group. Seven people offered to edit the Journey in Place manuscript. Another seven really beautiful people volunteered to help me exhibit at the ASLE conference. An intern weeds, and Raven takes charge of him, so I don’t have to do a thing. A friend went shopping many days in a row for 12-month clothes for Little Fawn. We were the grateful recipients of an expensive jogger stroller, which has been a game changer. My son Silas is working on producing a short video for me.

I could go on and on. I’ve started using my mala beads to name gratitudes, and I can swiftly circle the entire chain, 127 gratitudes, mere minutes.

Still, the reality remains. In the current iteration of my life, I am not in the best possible position to work toward the big dreams that I harbor. I know in the comments you are going to encourage me and shower me with care and love, and I thank you for that. But the fact remains: I’m 63, I have an infant, I have lots of stories I want to write, and some of them are not going to get written.

I preach that personal power is the ability to make your life go well. Right now I need to work on that.

Meanwhile, I’m trying not to worry about Iran, because those thoughts totally derail me. I’m trying not to brood about the forces that created the shooter in Minnesota. I think about the heat wave, but instead of worrying I try to think what I need to do to prepare for increasing climate chaos.

I hope you’re doing well. I hope you’re in a good space. I hope that you’re making a refuge around you in your home and yard and neighborhood. I hope there’s peace under your roof. I hope you have enough money. I hope you’re not worrying.

I hope you’re writing.

Love to you,

Janisse

P.S.

I’ll give you an update next week on switching Rhizosphere to Trackless Wild. It’s going to happen although it’s not as easy as I’d hoped.

P.P.S.

I’m doing a Kickstarter for the Journey in Place book. The pre-launch page is up. If you took that course with me, you’ll get your book first, then it will launch to the reading public via Kickstarter. I tell you this because Kickstarter is the first place you can get a book and there you’ll get the best deal. Plus I’m offering some very limited rewards. If you’re interested in those, sign up to be notified immediately when the project launches. Here’s that link. And the QR code below will also take you there.