Hi Friends.
I’ve been walking slowly, and I don’t like it.
After a decade plus of the coming and going of foot pain that seemed, like Covid, not to want to leave in the past couple of years, I realized I could just slow down. Walking slower was a thing in my control, an effort I could make. And it was an effort; the choice to do so undid a fair amount of who I am (who knew that “fast walker” was a primary identifier of mine? Not me!) but it also lessened my foot pain. I was, after all, always early for things, which is what happens when your one sport is passing people on crowded sidewalks for no particular reason. It doesn’t actually take me longer to get places. I will not pretend I notice or appreciate things more; I do not. And let me repeat, I don’t like it.
There’s a difference between knowing, and doing, and accepting. I’m walking—literally—in that space. Have I mentioned that I hate it?
I have always walked and talked fast; it’s how I get through loads of course material—if I were a podcast, you’d do well to listen to my classes on a .5 speed. I am a quick processor of feelings and scenarios. But I’m not a fast writer or reader. I’ve been tracking my time and it’s not—I want to say good, but I'm trying to reject the equivocation of fast with good. It’s not the speed I want. But it is what it is. I have not, in the two decades of my writing life, become very good at figuring out how long writing takes (hence the tracking). This winter, honing a chapter to what it should be took 4 weeks, not 2. I know, too, that the opposite can be true, that when I have a big task ahead of me I tend to overestimate, and finish “early.” Does it all come out in the wash? Can we control our brains the way we control our feet? I think not.
The seminar I’m teaching again (sign up! more on this below) is a lot about controlling what we can control and accepting what we cannot and working within that tension, in the space in between knowing and ambition. The advice I give in this class is to work with what you have on the path to what you want rather than lying on the floor and tantruming about it. To always keep an eye on what’s beyond what you can do right now. To reach for that, to invent it, to slog through to it, hopefully. To believe in shifts that we can’t see yet.
I find myself telling myself I have all the time I need, though I know that’s not true. I’m increasingly bereft to understand that my ideal working hours are between 2 and 7pm, which anyone with children will find laughable. That can feel like lost time, like time I truly need. When I did The Artist’s Way (which I swear I won’t plug every newsletter but I for sure think you should do) I discovered I kind of liked affirmations, which I think of as phrases you don’t yet believe. But there’s something strangely powerful in listening to the more faithful parts of yourself, which I suppose also live between knowing and ambition.
When I pick up my kid and her friend from school and their youth keeps them half a block ahead at all times I get anxious not with worry but because I want to move closer to their pace. Could I catch up? Yes, if I needed to. But I don’t need to.
Where to Find Me
Doing another round on creating a personal, realistic, and ambitious writing practice this Saturday. I’ll share why writing is work and how to treat it that way without zapping all the pleasure out of it. Lots of reflective questions and practical strategies. Open to all genres (and maybe, to stretch it, creative types?). There is as of this writing one scholarship spot for a BIPOC writer left. Please join me!
I had the pleasure of talking to Caroline Donahue for The Secret Library Podcast about my essay on ambigious loss and probably not selling my novel, power in publishing vs. power in art, and how the hell to carry on anyway.
I’ve been hearing from last year’s MFA prep clients who are getting acceptances, which is very exciting. And no, it’s not too soon to start thinking about MFA applications if you’re doing that this fall. I offer a free package to an underrepresented writer—if you’re interested or know someone who might be, please reply to this email or get in touch via my contact form. I have some room this spring for coaching and manuscript clients too.
Though these newsletters at this frequency (+/- 6 weeks? Like I said, bad with time) will remain free, I’ll be opening soon to paid subscriptions. If there’s anything you’d like to see as bonus content or goodies, please let me know by replying to this email. I’m thinking about things for general readers and for writers and for also for people who just want to be fancy benefactors of my work.
Take your time and talk soon,
Danielle
PS: Some personal news: I am indeed a bath person.
Absolutely deleted lines about how I’ll have you know I still walk plenty fast (she typed defensively).
This sounds like a 12-step program but I swear it is not!