When It's Time to Say, "Enough."

...when you've been working your bloomin' tail off at the day job to get a book out that is your employer's idea, not necessarily your own...and you still take two projects home from work on Friday evening, something you never do...simply because everyone else is pitching as hard as they can and you don't want to make it look like you don't care about your colleagues' work getting out on time.
...when you, and your colleagues, are IN this position because your employer overcommits, rouses up the troops with rah-rah teamwork talk, and praises you all to the skies when you do well, so you naturally behave like children looking for another pat on the head. (Or, conversely, you can't ever shake the lurking fear that if you should ever refuse to do something like a good soldier, that they'll find some other good soldier who WILL do it with a smile, and they'll kick you to the curb.)
...and when you're a writer yourself. A writer, dammit. A novelist. A person who has her own work to do, her own stories to tell, and her own career to think about...but you're too exhausted working for everyone else to think straight, much less accomplish anything toward that end.

So today, I said, "Enough."
Those manuscripts I took home? They're sitting in the exact same place I put them on Friday afternoon. I haven't touched them. I feel guilty about that. I did, of course, check my day job e-mail and found an e-mail from the proofreader, as promised.
I did nothing with it.

That freelance client with whom I spent almost two hours online yesterday while he fed me all kinds of material he wanted me to go over--as soon as possible, preferably the day before yesterday--so he could get his project put together that he really, really wanted to get out...after I wrote and rewrote web copy for him in a lot of freelance hours this week already? When he saw me online and sent me an IM today...I didn't answer.
I said, "Enough."

I've been pushed to the limit these last two weeks, and tomorrow morning, the last minute crunch to get this rush book out for my employer will start anew. I actually heard one of the authors mentioning that they wanted this thing to production before noon. We'll make it, but I won't be able to do another stitch for anyone else to get it there.
So when it came to more demands from my other client...I said, "Enough."
I've done enough work for other people this weekend.

I was working on Chapter Two of a new story. I like this story. I could, eventually, LOVE this story...if I made it a priority and wrote more per day. But when I was working on Chapter Two, I still had my Yahoo Messenger open...and now I feel guilty that I didn't respond to the client.
I closed Yahoo Messenger regardless...and said, "Enough."

Tonight, I'll be speaking in a writers' workshop room, something I could cheerfully do five days a week if someone would invite me to do it.
I want to do this for MONEY, for a LIVING.
I think I CAN do it.
I think it's possible...through different channels.
But when I have a week or two, or a weekend, like this...I wonder if I'll ever get to it.
So it's time to do something radical.
It's time to ask for help.

If you are a person who runs a writing program...
If you know anybody who runs a writing program...
If you know people who have writing magazines, books, clinics, workshops, informal educational facilities, adult learning situations...
If you know of, or have connections to, ANYONE, anywhere, who's looking for a fabulous writer, editor, and teacher to come in and put the rookies through some basic training...
PASS MY NAME ALONG.
I give you permission. Carte blanche. With only one condition.

Do NOT pass me along to people who want me to do this for free. I can continue to do it for free online all I want to...all I've got to do is express the desire to do so at a few places, and I'll have all the free work (and all the overbooking that can happen with that!) that I can possibly want.
I'm not looking for MORE WORK.
I'm looking for someone who'll recognize that, over time, I have contributed an enormous amount to the writing trade, in quite a few people's lives, in various ways, and in various venues...
...and who'll be willing to give me some good old-fashioned honest Coin of the Realm for it.

But I'm sick of breaking my back accomplishing someone else's mission.
It's time to say, "Enough," and find the path that will once again put me in balance.


Any takers?
Janny

"All Brian Tracy's Fault," part II

And then we came to the second part...
First of all, I feel a disclaimer is in order. If you happen to have stumbled upon this entry by Googling Brian Tracy, you need to know up front that actually, I have nothing personally against Brian. I’ve been listening to him since Earl Nightingale first introduced him on the old “Insight” series of tapes from the Nightingale-Conant Company (and they were cassette tapes, an admission which dates both me and Brian, although not necessarily in that order). That first speech I heard—about the difference between high achievers and those who fell short—was delivered at a rapid-fire pace that conveyed either a) a breathless passion for the subject matter, or b) a script with too many words to fit in the allotted time period …
…or both. :-)
I just knew that that frenetic, enthusiastic young man had a message that was inspiring, convincing, and challenging all at once. I bought it. And that, in the long run, has become my problem.
Brian, and most motivational gurus like him, preach one consistent theme when it comes to work: “Do what you love.” To this day, I can hear his voice in the back of my head saying, “If you don’t love your job enough to want to be the best at it, get out of that job and find something you do love. Life’s too short to waste it doing something you don’t love.”
But the best part about that was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. If you found what you loved to do and became the absolute best—indispensable, in fact, at that job—good money would absolutely follow. Some of you scoff at this, but in the 80s, this was leading-edge. This was what all the business/career/self-actualization books said.
Trouble was, it’s never happened.
When I first got out of school, I was convinced my husband and I would both make our living as musicians. We graduated from good schools, we were good at what we did, and we were in Chicago, a place that offers myriad performing opportunities. So we went on auditions—one memorable one in particular, a Civic Orchestra audition my brand-new husband went to on the day after we got back from our honeymoon. (He probably played with a big smile on his face, but the judges didn’t know…they were behind a screen. :-) ) I, too, did audition circuits—to the point where the people at some of these places may well have muttered, “Oh, no, not her again.”
This, mind you, was around moving twice, having a baby, and all the rest of that newlywed-stuff. And I did keep singing; I joined an early music ensemble that sang Palestrina and other great stuff all over the Chicago area.
Of course, none of this paid. Which became a whole ‘nuther problem.
Oh, don’t get me wrong. I did get the occasional stipend for a wedding or the like. But most people think singing is easy, and so except for union professionals who work major opera houses or the like, singers as a whole are lucky they make grocery money, even in major cities. Most of them actually live on teaching lessons and directing church choirs, not the performing itself. And there are only so many church gigs to go around, even in a city like Chicago.
So music wasn’t paying, not in any way remotely close to the “abundance” that was supposed to come from doing what I loved in an excellent fashion.
Much the same thing happened in the writing trade. After staying home with kids for years, writing and polishing fiction, I had a nice collection of rejection letters but very little else. Finally, faced with losing everything, I went out into the work world and found (what I thought was going to be) a great job being an administrator and newsletter editor. The sky was the limit with this organization…or so I thought.
Unfortunately, that sky turned out to be a heavy overcast as well.
So it’s not like I haven’t tried the formula, in various guises: full time. Freelance. Contractor. I’ve been a newspaper columnist, written for magazines, and tutored writers “on the side.” I even did one of those slightly-shady “term paper” jobs for awhile. But the bottom line still was that I worked for years providing “excellence” for people who went on European vacations, lived in neighborhoods I could only dream about, or sponsored Romanian orphans, while I worried about whether I could hang onto a two-bedroom townhouse and keep my utilities on.
So was the promise hollow all along?
And what do I do if it is?
If I talked to Brian about it, he might well say, “Have you truly given this your all? Have you done your best 100% of the time? Are you willing to pay any price, go any distance, to be the best?”
To which I’d have to say Yes. Maybe I haven’t been able or willing to hop on a plane at the slightest provocation to do endless “informational interviews.” But I have hopped on planes to go to writers’ conferences where I’ve networked…which in essence is the same thing. And yes, I’ve practiced visualization. And affirmation. I’m a positive-attitude person enough to choke most people I know. So this isn’t “not happening” because I give up too easily.
Trust me on this. :-)
I entered the Golden Heart for ten years before I even finaled, and that year I not only finaled but won. Persistence ain’t my problem.
So what is?
Here I am, in a career I’m still giving my all…and the brass ring keeps going to someone else. I’m still struggling just to pay my bills. European vacations? Providing for orphans? Don’t make me laugh. And it ought not to be this way.
So I’m wondering…what does Brian say to people when that happens?
Does he plead exceptions to the rule?
Or did I just waste my time for the last twenty-some years, chasing dreams that had no chance of ever paying off the way I’d been promised they would—sold to me by a man (and many others like him) who’s made multimillions off telling me I just need to “work harder” and “believe better”?

Many of us already think professional motivators are selling nothing more than snake oil. That they know a certain percentage of us will never get where they promise, no matter how hard we work, smart we make ourselves, or persistently we try. As long as some of us make it big, that’s good enough for them to keep peddling that same oil to the rest of us, and they don’t much care about the results.
I don’t want to think that way, for many reasons.
But I do have to wonder.

Thoughts?
Janny