Hard Truths, part 2

I may have to do some research to find out if Einstein’s Theory of Relativity explains how quickly time passes when Conall is at nursery…

Though I know from subtle spying that my two-year-old is fine five minutes after I drop him off, there is nothing more painful than hearing him scream and reach for me as the nursery teacher carries him away. It’s never easy to let go of our babies (literal and figurative) so they can go out and grow in the world; and that segues nicely to the conclusion of last Friday’s post about admitting hard truths to ourselves and others. The truth I’ve finally accepted is that it’s time to let go of my first book and send it, too, out into the world.

I haven’t talked honestly to many people about the emotional odyssey that has been this book. It has given me an identity and been a source of hope that I could have the creative life I imagine. I’ve toiled over countless drafts and celebrated its “completion” three times. I’ve felt the ecstasy of achievement when an agent has asked to read the full manuscript; and I’ve felt heart-wrenching pain when the rejections have come. I’ve struggled with the embarrassment of answering considerate friends who ask me how it’s going, trying to find a positive spin for what looked to me as the personal failure of not yet being published.

During the past six months, I’ve been learning a great deal about what’s known as mindset research. (I’m sure I’ll be writing about this a great deal… so be prepared). Dr. Carole Dweck of Stanford University has defined two mindsets (from her website):

“In a fixed mindset, people believe their basic qualities, like their intelligence or talent, are simply fixed traits. They spend their time documenting their intelligence or talent instead of developing them. They also believe that talent alone creates success—without effort. They’re wrong.

In a growth mindset, people believe that their most basic abilities can be developed through dedication and hard work—brains and talent are just the starting point. This view creates a love of learning and a resilience that is essential for great accomplishment. Virtually all great people have had these qualities.”

Until I started reading the research, I definitely had an entrenched “fixed” mindset. I took every book rejection as evidence of lack of talent and an inability to succeed. Only once did it occur to me to ask an agent for feedback so that I could improve my work. And because I took every rejection as a reflection of who I am and what I can achieve, I struggled to stay motivated and to put in the necessary effort to achieve my great dream of publication.

Finally, I understand… I understand how hard one must work to achieve one’s goals. I understand that a rejection isn’t necessarily personal or an indictment of a book’s potential. And, most importantly, I understand how to grow from a challenge and look at it as an opportunity.

So, doesn’t it sound like I should be redoubling my efforts and digging in to make my book happen? Well, here’s why I’m not… exactly.

I wrote the very first draft about ten years ago. I was a different person then in a million ways; over the decade my interestes have evolved, my style has changed and I now have a clear idea about what I want to be saying.

Also, here’s another part of the “truth” I’ve recently realized: I wrote my book as a fantasy novel, not because I wanted to write about a different world, but because I lacked the courage to write about the spiritual and philosophical ideas in which I believe in a “real world” context. I hid myself in the fantasy.

Well, that’s certainly changed.

I’m ready now to begin a project that truly does represent me as a writer and a person. A project I will be able to take to agents and publishers with passionate enthusiasm.

Still, I love my first book the way one loves a dear friend one doesn’t see very often. I enjoy it, believe in it and want it to succeed. It’s just I’ve moved on… and it should too.

The world of “self-publishing” has changed a great deal in the past few years. It used to seem to me to be an admittance of “failure” (there’s that word again), but with the help of articles like this (recently in the New York Times), Amazon Signs Up Authors, Writing Publishers Out of Deal, and the encouragement of friends and family (thank you, Jim Merikangas), I’m ready to chart a new path for my first true writing endeavor.

So, it is with great pride and excitement that I announce THE BOOK UNLOCKED will be available for download to Kindle in time for the holidays! (wink) Please be prepared for some shameless self-promotion. I promise that won’t be ALL the blog is about. But I should mention that the title of this blog – Temple of Inspiration – comes from the book. Intrigued? Hope so!

Thanks again to everyone who has encouraged me. As the year begins to draw to a close and I think about all the things I’d wanted to accomplish, I hope this decision turns out to be something for which to remember 2011! I’m off to pick up Conall now. Funny… it’s always difficult to send him off, but I know he’s just fine once I let go. Something to think about.

Published in: on October 24, 2011 at 11:28 am  Comments (5)  
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Hard Truths

First, let me just say hello… it’s nice to be back!

Now, today’s topic…

I have some trouble being honest.  Not about the big things… but those little white lies spring easily to my lips:  “Yes, lamb for dinner would be great.”  “No, that hair cut isn’t a disaster.”  “Sure, I’m very happy to help out with that project.”  You get the idea…

In the last few days, I’ve forced myself to be honest about a couple deeply personal issues and I thought I’d share them in case they help any one else feel better about saying those difficult words: the truth.

As those of you who are on Facebook with me know (and to the rest of you, friend me on Facebook!), I started coaching diving recently.  I don’t go very often due to the fact that I really like being married and I’m afraid that would change if I were out of the house every evening (not earning money).  Therefore, I know when I’m there, I am just helping out where there’s a need.  Somehow, though, I fell in to taking over a particular class.  At first, I was just sticking around during the class because I wanted to keep coaching.  But when the instructor was no longer available, I found myself in charge.

However, as my enthusiasm for Saturday mornings began to wane, I had to ask myself what was going on.  The answer was a surprise and made me admit an uncomfortable truth about myself: I don’t like to be “in charge.”

Why is this an uncomfortable truth?  I feel like it says something fundamental about me – that I’m not a leader, for instance.  Everyone likes to think of themselves as a leader.  This isn’t to imply I’m a follower; I just don’t really fit neatly into a group.  I’m more comfortable in the role of independent contractor or consultant.

I first noticed this about myself in my social life.  I feel dreadfully uncomfortable having to make decisions for anyone besides myself about even the most mundane questions – where shall we eat? What movie shall we watch?  I always have an opinion, but I hate to feel like I’m imposing it on any one else.  Maybe I’m afraid of making other people unhappy; I can deal with my own disappointments but hate to be responsible for others.  This trait certainly hindered my development in the corporate world.  I couldn’t stand up with confidence and say, “This is what we’re doing.”

So, why should this bother me with eight pre-pubescent divers?  I suppose the short answer is, it shouldn’t; which is why I was so embarrassed to tell the HC (head coach) I didn’t want to run the session.  Part of the problem for me is that beginners’ repertoires are limited and I seem to lack the necessary creativity to make their lessons interesting.  With advanced divers, it’s easy: they come in and run through drills and all their dives.  But with beginners, they stare up at you with their little faces after they done their front jumps and back jumps, their bright eyes wondering what exciting thing they’ll be asked to do next… and there’s me, with no good ideas.

Most people are probably clamoring for more autonomy and control.  Yet, I sounded, to my mind, rather pathetic as I begged off.  I was nervous about 1) losing the HC’s respect and 2) frustrating him by making him feel he had to take on even more responsibility.  Both ideas make me feel lousy.  But, the more knotted my stomach at the thought of the class, the more I felt I had to say something.  So say something I did.

As it turns out, at just this point as I was writing the blog, the HC called me to discuss.  He was actually nervous to talk to me about an unrelated subject for which I felt he had no reason to be uncomfortable… and the subject that I was so reticent to discuss was, for him, no big deal!

It’s amazing (she says, wryly) how accommodating and supportive people can be when they understand where you’re coming from.  And it never ceases to surprise me how the things we feel awkward about are far worse in our own minds than they are in actuality.  Ah, communication, what a useful tool you are.

The second thing has to do with a very significant decision I’ve made about my book.  But, as it’s after 5:00 and my little boy is waiting for me at nursery school, I’ll have to write about it and the ramifications of truth-telling on Monday.  Tune in!!!

 

 

Published in: on October 21, 2011 at 5:25 pm  Comments (6)  
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