I believe in black and white. I do. I think that there are some Truths that are as stark as that.
But I’ve made room in my life for a lot of gray too, many shades of it. The more birthdays, wisdom, and freedom I get under my belt, the more I embrace those grays for their own incredible beauty.
That’s all for today.
For more about OCD, ERP, & uncertainty, go to jackieleasommers.com/OCD
Image credit: Hengki Koentjoro
Silver Sea #narnia
Sigh. It’s Thursday evening, and I have to go home tomorrow. In some ways, I’m glad: I’ve gone a little loopy and have hit a wall. On the other hand, if I had all day tomorrow to write, I think I could still hammer out a lot of work.
I didn’t get as much done as I wanted, but I did get a lot accomplished. I feel simultaneously proud of my work and also terrified of just how much more effort needs to go into this manuscript before it’s ready to show the world.
Space. It’s so nice. I don’t only mean physical space, but also head and heart space– it’s just that physical space can sure lend to that, eh?
Being alone with a manuscript can make you go crazy. Back in December of 2012, I spent a week in a small town working on (believe it or not) this same novel, and here is what I had to say about it:
When it’s just you and your manuscript in a tiny house for a week, both truth and lies are going to ricochet like crazy off those old walls and you know some barbs are going to get stuck in you. You’ll go from imagining your impending wild success to realizing that you’re a complete fraud. The only reassurances you can find are electronic—Facebook, texts. You drink them like water, but even then, you think what do these people know anyway?
This has been happening a lot lately, you think. This up and down, this rollercoaster. You’ve tried to tell yourself it’s just the writing life, the way things are. And to some extent, this really has to be true.
Here I am, 18 months later, and that book is being published, and I still lived on that rollercoaster all week. I wonder if– for me– writing will always be a rollercoaster of emotions. Yesterday I hit a low low where I couldn’t fathom how Truest would matter to anyone. Yet, by that evening, I was re-writing a scene that I could not stop laughing over. I was honestly losing it laughing in my condo over things my characters did and said.
Tonight I feel stress creeping back in as I face returning to civilization tomorrow. (Honestly, it’s been so nice this week: no make-up, pajamas all day, I don’t even leave my condo.) I feel time biting back down on me; I feel the pressure of my contract all over again. I wish I could stay another week. I wish I could somehow have more space.
Interesting thing about this resort where I’m staying: I started writing my second draft of Truest at this place, two whole years ago. And now (please, Lord) I am writing my second-to-last draft (I hope I hope I hope). I have learned about a million things about fiction and the writing life and young adult literature and about the industry since then, and my book– my gosh, my book!— has grown and changed so tremendously that it’s nearly unrecognizable (in a good way!). But I am still the insecure writer who is trying to fake it till she makes it.
Some people would say I have made it. It doesn’t feel that way to me.
Time for more revisions. I really hope you’ll love my book.
Remember how I chose one word to focus on in 2014? That one word is grace.
Giving grace to myself.
Still learning. I’ve allowed myself more time away from writing this year than in all of the last five years combined. And when I feel guilty about it, I remind myself, Grace. I repeat what my wise friend Judy has said– that I need to trust that the writing will still be there for me when I return to it.
Giving grace to others.
Honestly, this is easier for me to do than to dole it out to myself. When you have screwed up as much as I have, it makes it a lot easier to say to others, “It’s okay” and “Me too” and “It’s forgotten.” I love that. I am so happy to see this aptitude for grace is so tremendously strong amongst my group of dear friends. I learn so much from them.
Receiving grace from God.
I was recently reading the book of Galatians and marveling once again over the incredible truth that rule-keeping does not bring life. “Doing things for God is the opposite of entering into what God does for you” (MSG). I feel such gratefulness, such freedom. I marvel at this gift.
I am spending this week in northern Minnesota, alone in a (really nice) condo, attempting to knock out a ton of necessary revisions. Leave me lots of comments this week because I’ll be going crazy from writing in solitude by the end of it! If you pray, pray for me!
Image credit: unknown
1. I am messy. Messy is not quite the right word for it. I’m a slob. My office (at work) and my apartment are usually fairly tidy, but my bedroom: war zone. Right now you can hardly see the floor. (I’m not joking.) I don’t know how to keep my room clean. Every single time I clean my bedroom, I tell myself, This time I will keep it clean. Never works.
2. I am still learning healthy coping mechanisms for stress. I have traded in stress-induced eating for stress-induced shopping. Better, but not the best.
3. Most indicators signal that I am an extrovert: I love people, I like crowds, I enjoy public speaking (and am pretty good at it too!). But after the people, crowds, and public speaking, I crash hard. I am a total introvert and need a lot of alone time to recharge.
4. Sometimes I am perfectly fine with being single; most times I am not.
5. I am a terribly complicated woman. Right now, I have the most and least self-confidence I’ve ever had. That might not even make sense to most of you. Some of you will get it.
… and that will wrap up Getting Personal with Jackie Lea for this week. Vulnerability. I tell ya.
Image credit: unknown
I remember the Sunday mornings in church when my mind was a war zone.
An intrusive thought would show itself, and with my Pure-O compulsions, I’d mentally bat it down (usually with repetitive prayer). I was a ninja with my compulsion moves, but OCD was just as fast and furious. Back and forth, back and forth, like a relentless game of Whac-a-Mole.
And no one knew.
All these happy people around me, worshiping God, taking in the sermon, happy and safe in their suburban church sanctuary– and, for me, it was a battle field.
Pure-O: so invisible, so dark, so exhausting.
I praise God that those days are a part of my past. If you want to learn how I survived (and WON) this war, click here. Your mind doesn’t have to be a scary place.
For (lots!) more about OCD and ERP, go to jackieleasommers.com/OCD.
Image credit: unknown.
I.
Once upon a time, there was a young girl named Jackie Lea who loved to tell and write stories. She made a short list of her life’s goals, and one of the items on the list was to publish a book.
Jackie Lea worked tirelessly toward this goal: she wrote all through high school and college. She wrote after college too, and she created a writing group, and she spent her precious money on workshops and conferences and readings to help her become a better writer.
She was very, very tired. But still very determined.
“If I can just get a book deal, I’ll have met my goal, and then just think how happy I’ll be! I’ll be a professional. I’ll be thrilled. I’ll be validated,” she told herself.
Then one lovely November day, she got incredible news: an editor loved her story and was going to publish her! Jackie Lea had worked hard, and all her dreams had finally come true.
II.
Except that the book deal added so much stress to Jackie Lea’s life that she felt overwhelmed and panicked, jealous of other writers, nervous about her revisions, terrified to give up control, and generally quite fearful.
And she would cry about it.
And that felt wrong too, because who cries in a fairy tale when her dream is coming true?
Image credit: Gabriela Camerotti
April has been all about self care. I took time away from my manuscript. I went to the chiropractor. I started a weight loss program. I spent time with my favorite little kiddos (see: cuddle therapy).
And, you know what, I feel ready to dive back in for another round of revisions. (I must be crazy.)
Easter was awesome, as usual. My church had two baptisms, including one of a young man I met the Easter before, which was really special because he comes from a totally different walk of life (and indeed has been shunned by some of his family because of his decision to follow Christ). I’m really proud of him and even more proud of God’s incredible work in this young man’s life.
This month, I gave a percentage of my author advance to non-profit organizations– to my Compassion kids and their families, my church, Campus Crusade at my brother’s college, a Chinese orphanage, a mission trip to Peru, an urban and anti-sex trafficking ministry, a friend teaching overseas, an at-risk youth ministry, Bible translation in Papua New Guinea, and the University of Northwestern.
It. was. a. JOY.
Let’s see, what else, what else?
I shared with UNW’s novel writing club, which was so much fun. They asked great questions and commiserated with me about the artist’s self-doubt.
I applied for a writing grant (#4 on my list of creative goals for this year; stay tuned for an update!).
I took my panic pill … three times. I met up for coffee and conversation with my sweet best friend Eir last weekend, so good for my heart and soul. I also have spent a lot of time with God in prayer, and it’s been delicious. There’s basically nowhere on earth I’d rather be than in my bed with my prayer journal.
I’ve gotten some more revision suggestions from my editor, and I’ve been thinking about them a lot and tiptoeing toward them while waiting for a marked-up manuscript. One month away from my novel has been interesting: it’s probably the longest break I’ve taken from writing in the last six years. It was good, and probably necessary, to rest after that frenzied six-week revision– but guess what? I miss it. My writer-heart feels out of rhythm. I plan to fix that murmur this May.
How are you? How was your April? I wish I had more wild stories and events to share with you, but April 2014 was just one of those keep-it-together months for me. We need those sometimes, don’t we?
I pre-ordered:
I’ll Give You the Sun by Jandy Nelson
Landline by Rainbow Rowell
Life by Committee by Corey Ann Haydu
I bought:
Midwinterblood by Marcus Sedgwick
She is not Invisible by Marcus Sedgwick
Love Letters to the Dead by Ava Dellaira
The Place of the Lion by Charles Williams
The Cuckoo’s Calling by J.K. Rowling
Stories in an Almost Classical Mode by Harold Brodkey
Maybe One Day by Melissa Kantor
Forgive Me, Leonard Peacock by Matthew Quick
This Side of Salvation by Jeri Smith-Ready
What I Thought Was True by Huntley Fitzpatrick
The Last Forever by Deb Caletti
Sorta Like a Rockstar by Matthew Quick
Throne of Glass by Sarah J. Maas
Open Road Summer by Emery Lord
Adverbs by Daniel Handler
I won:
How to Promote Your Children’s Book by Katie Davis (thanks, Kathy Ellen!)
Grasshopper Jungle by Andrew Smith (thanks, Anna!)
I also have 8 books in my “save for later” cart on the B&N website.
P.S. I got three B&N gift cards this month. I sure do love B&N gift cards. 🙂
Writing.
Either I’m not doing it right and still need to learn the universe’s secrets, or else the truth is that writing is masochism.
No, stop. I shouldn’t say that. Believe me, I love to write. Sometimes.
But it is really, really hard.
Why does it so often seem like other writers have their acts together? They feel confident in their abilities. They are clever and funny and smart … gahhh, I know I can be those things too. But mostly I just feel insufficient and terrified that I’ll be found out.
Not just writing either. Life. I’m 32, and I feel like I know so little about how to be successful at Life. I retreat in fear to my favorite things night after night: my bed, my prayer journal, my Jesus.
A few lines from Truest (as it stands today):
And while I sit in the stand and pray, I have the same sensation—that I am being outlined, defined, and that the definition doesn’t come from me.
I am trying to hold so many things—and failing—but this one thing is holding me.
Please tell me, people: do any of you get so overwhelmed that you become paralyzed? Have you fallen in love with a vocation that gnaws on your heart? Have you figured out any ways to be still and yet productive?
All I know is Jesus, Jesus, Jesus— thankfully, he’s more than enough.
JACKIE LEA SOMMERS 
