Monday, October 30, 2017

It's That Time Again

It's the 30th of October. Tomorrow is Halloween, AKA the best day in the entire year. I'll be carving pumpkins and spending time with my family, and the day after that I'll be attending my local kickoff party for that beast that looms every November:

NaNoWriMo.

I write a variation of this post every year. It's relevant year-round, but doubly so in November, when many people are striving to write as much as they can in 30 days.

I've been participating in NaNoWriMo every year since 2008. In 2010, I was a senior in high school, with all the pressure that comes with that. In addition to worrying about homework and grades and my senior project, I decided I wanted to write my NaNo novel as quickly as possible, and write, not just 50,000 words, but as much as I possibly could. It was a personal challenge, and I got a wee bit too ambitious.

2010 was a rough year for me for a number of reasons, and I had a lot on my plate. I threw myself wholeheartedly into NaNo that year. I finished my project in four days, through a combination of not getting enough sleep, not taking nearly enough breaks, and pushing myself to the utter limit.

I was also sick at the time. That should have been my clue to take it easy, but I was sixteen and overconfident. So what could have been a quick, easy bout with the crud became a trip to the emergency room with a temperature of 106.3 degrees. When your temperature gets that high, you're in serious danger of permanent damage, and I remember sobbing that the water was too cold when my mom tossed me in a lukewarm shower in an attempt to bring my temperature down.

Not fun.

After a visit to the ER, during which I got a shot right in the ass cheek, I had to take a week off school. I spent the entire time either asleep or whining to my mom that I felt like crap. Not something I'm eager to repeat.

The moral of the story is this:

Take breaks. No matter how intently you're working on a story, for NaNoWriMo or otherwise, take breaks. Get up, drink some water, eat, stretch. Take a break from staring at a computer screen. Spend time with friends. Give yourself a rest. It's not worth hurting yourself just for the sake of word count. Believe me, putting yourself in the ER for the sake of a book is not only supremely unpleasant, it's pretty damn embarrassing.

Your story is important, but your health is important, too. Don't neglect the latter for the sake of the former.

Take care of yourself this NaNoWriMo, okay?

Until next time,
Jenn.

Monday, October 9, 2017

Polishing Turds

This afternoon at my usual coffee shop hangout, I finally finished the first draft of my WiP!

It sucks!

But that's not a bad thing!

Every writer has a different style. A lot of people edit their work as they go, so that by the time they finish a story it doesn't need much work at all. I'm not usually like that. I'm the kind of writer who's much more inclined to crap out a first draft in a short amount of time, and then spend ages and ages and ages refining it into something I really like.

Neither method is inherently superior to the other. It's all about what works for you. I always feel this huge sense of relief when I finish banging out a mess of a project, because playing in the sandbox that is revisions is something I immensely enjoy. It feels less like polishing a turd and much more like I've just bought a bunch of craft supplies that I get to puzzle together into a masterpiece.

I don't really have any point to prove or idea to raise with this post; I just thought I'd post something celebrating the fact that, hey, I finished laying the groundwork to edit together something I'm really excited about. I'll be posting snippets of the first draft and before/after comparisons over on my Patreon for all patrons, and maybe some cool graphics and screenshots over on Instagram for anyone who wants to follow along.

I've had a great day of writing, and I really look forward to diving into revisions. Wherever you are, I hope you've had a great day, too, and that whatever project you're working on treats you well.

Until next time,
Jenn.

Monday, October 2, 2017

On Labor

I've been thinking about labor a lot lately. Specifically, the way it is, and isn't, valued in our society.

I live in the United States. Here, unless you provide a very specific type of labor, it is consistently devalued and even belittled. You see it often when people talk about how "burger flippers" don't deserve a living wage (spoiler: they do). You also see it when white collar office jobs are more highly praised than vital labor provided by people like sanitation workers or the folks working road construction. And those are just a tiny thimbleful of examples in a sea of gross rhetoric.

Labor is devalued in our society. Especially when that labor comes from people marginalized along other axes--women, people of color, disabled people, the list goes on. It worsens the more axes you exist along.

Lately I've been particularly thoughtful on the ways society devalues the labor of artists and creatives. A while back, someone on Twitter felt the need to quote tweet the link to my Ko-Fi profile, for the sole purpose of telling me they would never, ever donate to it. Upon browsing this person's profile, I saw that I was not even close to the only person they'd done this to. In particular they seemed to be targeting indie writers and freelance artists.

People consistently demand art, but never want to pay the artists. People ask artists to draw their OCs for free, people get angry if an ebook costs more than .99, people expect musicians to put their music for free on YouTube. Content creators are thus forced to undervalue our own work if we want people to compensate us at all. I myself have put stories up for free when I really wanted to charge, because it's so damn hard to convince people to do things like pledge to your Patreon if they don't get some "proof" that it's worth it. I charge under the average for sensitivity reading services, because I've had people ask my prices and then completely vanish, without so much as a "thank you for your time," when hearing my original quote.

It is expected that artists will always produce art, to the point where I wonder if people put any thought into where it comes from. It seems people truly believe art comes from thin air.

The idea that everyone hates their job contributes to this idea that those who do something they love--like artists--don't "really" work. And if it's not "really" work, then the labor doesn't deserve compensation. It's a common thought that if you enjoy producing art, than you would be doing it anyway, so you don't need to be paid for your time.

It's such a pervasive thought that trying to fight against it is an endurance trial. It feels like beating your head against a brick wall, honestly.

Dancing that line between valuing your own labor, and keeping your prices in the range people are actually willing to pay, is difficult, exhausting, and an endless reshuffling.

I don't know how to force it to change. All I know is that I'll be here in my corner, adding 20%+ tips to everything I commission, doing my best to value my own work, and boosting all of the hardworking content creators I know. I urge the rest of you to do the same. Value your own labor. Value the labor of your friends, and your community, and artists everywhere.

Don't let the world convince you that your labor doesn't deserve compensation. Because even if you aren't a master, even if you are just one in a sea of creators, you matter. Your work is important, and your labor has value.

And if you aren't a content creator, remember--our work is work, the same as yours. Without labor, you would have nothing. Art does not magically just appear, just as other goods to not magically just appear. If you want to continue living in a world full of creativity, you will compensate your artists, and boost their links, and do your part to help them stay fed.

Until next time,
Jenn.