Send a Raven: Newsletter #4
A deep dive into the busy social life of an undying homebody, the mind of a writer who hates to read, and how a former cynic learned how to trust the universe.
Happy August, Ravens!
I know I’ve been preaching for months about how this summer feels different, but the events that have occurred since we last talked are only further confirmation of that. Much like Mother Nature’s bipolar temper(ature) this summer (it’s unseasonably cold here again), I too find myself being pulled in two completely different directions: feeding my ego vs. feeding my soul.
I’ve learned to be a strong contender for feeding the soul over the ego, but I wasn’t always that way. And what do you do when feeding the ego is better for your mental health than feeding your soul?
At my core, I’ve always been a self-soothing, solitude-loving homebody (we can thank my dad’s lack of attention for that one), but I’ve also always been vain, I can admit, and those things don’t mix. I find myself in a constant battle between living my life and hating every second of it. Whenever I’m out, I long to be home. But whenever I’m home, I know I need to go out. The joys of having a birth chart peppered with earth but dominated by air. It’s a fine line that I’m constantly struggling to walk. Some episodes are better than others, of course, but I long for the day that I learn to balance, guilt-free.
I won’t depress you with the unpleasant details of what’s been going on in my personal life lately, but let’s just say that between the constant reminder of how close death lingers, unexpected vet bills at the worst possible time, and unsatisfying travels that my bank account didn’t need to embark on, the picking of some of my deepest wounds has left me exhausted, anxious, and unfulfilled. And when I’m already feeling frustrated that my social life is distracting me from my unsocial life, a slow and scattered brain in the few times I do have time to engage in what should be productive solitude is the last thing that I need.
Needless to say, I’ve had a lot going on these last few weeks, but it’s not all depressing. As I write this, I can feel the smoke clearing, and the light coming back.
Does the light bring the productivity I’ve been lacking? Not really. But it promises the enrichment that makes the lack of productivity worth it. (TLDR: I promise I’m not a workaholic… I just really fucking love writing and when it’s all I want to do but am kept from it by shitty outside sources that make me unable to focus when I’m not kept from it, and unable to appreciate when I’m kept from it for good reason, I get frustrated).
Speaking of enrichment…
I entered a writing contest!
A writer? Entering a writing contest? Yeah… I know. But the first half of my writing career was spent hiding in crippling embarrassment, and the second half has been spent cowering under the fear of rejection. So with the upcoming (no, I still haven’t revealed the date) release of ARAC, I’ve been doing what I can to shed that skin, and letting myself join the race regardless of if I win instead of choosing not to run because I’m too scared to lose has definitely helped to loosen those scales.
It was really fun to get my creative juices flowing again, to challenge myself to write something intriguing with such limitations (especially the word count), but what was most fun was stepping out from the fear of being inadequate. I feel very confident in what I put forward, but the confidence isn’t tied to the possibility of winning, it’s tied to the fact that I finally feel like the people I’m competing against are my peers, not my superiors. I don’t think I’ve ever done something like this before besides being given essay prompts in school, but those essays were the very things that had my teachers pushing me to pursue writing, so that’s gotta be a good sign, right?
If you’re interested in what prompts were given and what I submitted, you can read it here (bonus points if you can figure out what my inspiration was).
On another enriching note:
I think I may have finally found the answer to my reading crisis… Audiobooks. The happy medium I’ve been searching for between working through my TBR when I don’t have the time (or mental bandwidth) to sit down and read, and productively feeding my insatiable appetite for true crime and constant background noise.
I don’t know why reading physical books is such a struggle for me. Anxiety? Dyslexia? Sensory issues? Personal-laptop-since-the-age-of-10 kid? A plethora of my own thoughts and ideas that plague my attention span? Throw some “I can only stay engaged out of morbid curiosity” in there and we’ve got a recipe for disaster when it comes to choosing a book that I can actually finish, let alone one that I can finish in a timely fashion. But learning how to healthily feed unhealthy impulses is one of the most valuable lessons that we can learn as adults. So, Jeneva Rose… Feed me.
(Spoiler alert, Jeneva Rose left me starving, but Brynne Weaver did not.)
And finally, as you read this, I’m gearing up to be on the road for a couple of weeks on a trip that I’ve actually been able to be excited about (which may or may not be solely linked to the copious amounts of American food that I will be consuming). Montana, Wyoming, Utah, Nevada, Arizona. So if you thought I was complaining about the heat before…
I don’t have many exciting updates regarding ARAC just yet… I was hoping it would be up on Goodreads by the time I write this, but it looks like it’s just going to miss the cut off (they are working on requests from March-May from what I can see, and mine is mid-June) so let us all cross our fingers that it will get added while I’m on vacation so that when I’m back, we can get this show on the road…
How is the show coming along, you ask?
I’m definitely in the summer slump I’ve anticipated. With July full of back to back socializing and blows to my mental health, the time I’ve had to recuperate before my trip has been thoroughly exhausted. Given the nature of what’s been exhausting said recuperation time, I’ve been fighting some cold feet. Not about the release, just second-guessing some of the choices I’ve made regarding this new adaptation of the story, but the length has come down so nicely and I’m very proud of the integrity I’ve been able to maintain, that they don’t stay cold for long.
That was far too short and not nearly enough sweet (shoutout Sabrina Carpenter, who may or may not be the faceclaim for ARAC’s leading lady), so let’s end this off on a more positive note…
This month happens to mark one year since one of my wildest dreams came true, involving the faceclaim for ARAC’s leading man…
Backstory: my book series A Raven Among Crows (ARAC) is based off of the TV show Sons of Anarchy, we’ve covered that. ARAC’s focal male character, Sergeant-at-Arms Tig Trager (and love of my life) is played by Kim Coates, a middle-aged Canadian actor who I would give my entire life for.
Kim is originally from Saskatchewan, a City in the Province neighbouring mine. I actually once talked to a boy whose mom acted with him while they were in university (why does he have to be so close, yet so far…). He also currently resides in the City of Kelowna, in the other Province neighbouring mine, where I’ve been vacationing since I can remember. Every time I go, pretty much any capable set of ears in my general vicinity has to hear about how much I would love to meet him.
This time last year, I was on a 2 week vacation in Kelowna where Kim was supposed to be doing a charity ride the weekend after I was leaving. As you can imagine, I was pretty gutted to be just barely missing out on a rare event where I could meet him without stalking him. My mom, sister, and I had just finished a wine tasting and had a sequence of errands to run, so after rearranging the schedule a solid 9 times, we somehow ended up in the perfect place, at the perfect time. I was waiting in the parking lot for my sister, paying 0 attention to the world around me with my face stuffed into my phone (as one does). Kim pulled up next to me, parked, got out right beside me, walked in front of my rental and into the store, came back out and passed me again, all without me noticing. It was only when I happened to glance up and recognize his wife (it pays to be a super fan).
I don’t think my neck has ever snapped as hard as the moment I realized what was happening, and before I knew it I was jumping out of the car barefoot (platforms and winding roads don’t mix… the difference between Sydney and I).
To answer your burning questions:
Yes, he smelled amazing.
Yes, I showed him my SOA tattoos (refrained from the one of Tig’s initials on my ass).
No, I didn’t tell him that I write disgustingly explicit sex scenes about him.
That’s about all I can remember because though I managed to keep my cool on the spot, I pretty much blacked out after. What are the odds? Out of all the celebrities to meet in the wild, I bump into the one I’ve been writing about for years? Fantasize about daily? WHAT. ARE. THE. ODDS.
The odds are the universe. At this time last year, I was feeling like I would never make the progress I hope to make as an author. I would never feel the inspiration that used to drive me. Would never get my books out the way that I wanted. I was also feeling particularly low in the love department. I’d been single for 6 years at that time with no promising prospects or hope that I would ever come close to finding what I really want in a man.
This was the glimpse of hope that I needed. The boost to keep doing what I’m doing, and I will keep being rewarded. The confirmation that what I want does exist and it will find me.
I’ve had my fair share of ups and downs with the universe, but in dealing with feeling like I’ve been dealt a shitty hand, I always find myself being shown why that shitty hand was dealt, and allowing myself to indulge in that realization has provided me with more acceptance and affirmation than I could ever imagine. I don’t believe in luck, I believe in manifestation. So call it what you want; the universe, spirit, your higher-self, God, a guardian angel. Just never stop trusting in what it has in store for you.
