Why I want to be like Carrie Bradshaw

You know who I miss? Carrie Bradshaw.  Can I get an amen, ladies?
If you're an American woman, you're probably also a fan of this HBO gem, Sex in the City.
Time passes, we must move on from our savage fandom, but it's still a fantastic show.  I don't care how many years ago the pilot was filmed.  I still watch it.  I still play every slot machine with that theme, without ever winning a dime.
Sex in the City is a stroke of pure genius, one that reflected so much of the challenges women face in the modern world, including all the stuff that happens behind closed doors.  Nothing is off limits, but always presented in a way that makes it okay to talk about.  The things that most would call taboo are laid out for us in a flippantly honest, but cleverly playful way that isn't offensive.  I cheer on the girls when they talk about sex toys as openly as they do fashion.  The glamorous New Yorker lifestyle theme helps keep things interesting, too.
I know I'm treading into fanatic territory here, so let me get to my point.
I want to be just like Carrie Bradshaw when I grow up.  Never you mind that I'm already thirty-something.  She doesn't have to be quite as annoyingly noncommittal though (sorry, its true).  If you're not familiar, let me give you a quick rundown of the character:
She is cool, confident, and yet, somewhat self destructive.  She's smart, funny, ambitious and articulate.  She drinks too much and makes foolish mistakes, but you love her for it because she has so much fun. She fumbles through life like we all do, but she always learns something valuable.  She explores many sides of herself and she tries on ten million dresses.  Most of those dresses are fucking fabulous, some are tragically not.  She has flair and femininity.  She's daring, sophisticated and down-to-earth, all at the same time.  Her style is a undiluted expression of her creativity as an individual, always original.
She's vulnerable, but never shies away from the chance for a new adventure, especially in matters of the heart.  She dares to ask questions that we all wonder, but rarely give much expression to. What's more, she epitomizes the independent career woman, (hello, no 9-5 slavery) while rocking an awesome hairstyle and overly expensive shoes.
Most importantly, she never stops looking for love (and frequently succeeds).
I would like to be able to put my name in place of "she" in that description, wouldn't you?  Sure, Carrie is just a character, but she has many attributes that I think most women want (and how about her wardrobe? yes, please!).  If Carrie is a reflection of the American woman, I want to be able to successfully take life in stride despite all its ups and downs, while working it in a couture gown. Now, if only I could afford the shoes.    

XoXo, 
JoAnna

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Tonight's Full Moon

If you had the pleasure of looking up to the night sky yesterday, you might have noticed that the moon looked full and brilliant.  Today marks December's full moon, known to some as the Long Nights Moon.  If you don't follow the patterns of the moon, you're not alone.  There aren't many of us dorky enough to actually pay attention to something that might be completely unrelated to our day-to-day lives. (or is it?)

Regardless of whether you believe the phases of the moon might be playing a role in your personal rhythm, it lends a beautiful metaphor to the ever changing nature of our lives.  Nothing ever stays the same for long.  We ebb and flow like the tides of the ocean, or, say, the varying reflection of the sun's rays off a big rock hanging out several million miles from here.

The phases of my life go something like a pendulum swing, rather than the forward force of a locomotive.  It's desperately annoying. I take two bold strides forward, but inevitably fall two paces backward quickly thereafter.  I strike out to accomplish something then lose my focus or get scared and run away.  It's a ridiculous pattern of behavior that leaves me exhausted and never getting anywhere. I've been treading water in nearly every in practically aspect of my life, never really choosing a direct to swim.    

I've identified this about myself, so at least there's some opportunity to make improvements, whereas most of us linger in denial about such things.  If your life is feeling like a hamster's wheel, I invite you to notice that and CHANGE IT.

This month's full moon means that tomorrow marks the renewal of the cycle, and a chance to create a new pattern for the coming month.  Take a few moments out of this busy season to reflect upon yourself and your behavior.  If you see something in your life you want to do better, acknowledge that.  Decide what you're going to do differently during the next phase and implement those changes to see results.  Being on the same arc as the moon just may be the little oomph you need to make some serious improvements in your world.  I'm know I'm hoping it is for me.

   

  

  

The most reluctant author, ever

The Most Reluctant Author, Ever.
JoAnna Santanen

I have spent the better part of the past two years running away from being an author.  I have backed away from my career in shame, aburptly, and for no apparent reason.  Maybe the stacks of form rejection letters from agents and publishers broke my stride or the fact that I haven't had much success in business lead me to believe I wouldn't be successful in publishing.  I don't know what really happened.  I started making some progress in building my readership, then I just abandoned ship.

When my friends, who are also fans of my work, would mention my novels, I would feel a twinge of grief.  I knew I was letting the dream (of being a full-time self-sustaining author) die inside me. The grass is always greener where you water it, but man, I had turned off the sprinkler.  I quit writing.

I told myself that I didn't like the aspect of self promotion in indie publishing. I thought that letting people know about my books, which they might even really enjoy, was somehow dirty.  I was letting the business of being an indie publisher make me feel like I was being dishonest in some way.  I would tell myself that the business had ruined the art.  

I hold a damned Business Management Bachelor's degree.  Business is my business.  I was lying to myself.  I was making excuses for my "failure" which hadn't actually occurred.  My books weren't raking in the dough, but they were bringing in something, which meant in that regard, they were already a success.  That's probably what scared me the most.

I can't just declare that I'm an author and then suddenly, be one, could I? Yes, I could.  I wrote a book and published it (two, actually).  Is there another definition of author that I'm missing here? No.  There isn't. I'm an author and where I was once proud to admit it, I had suddenly become ashamed.  I had let myself go so far down the shame spiral, I almost couldn't bear to call myself an author anymore.

It all boils down to self confidence.  As with anything, self confidence is key to getting what you want.  You have to be willing to put yourself out there, to risk looking like a fool.  I was shaken by some changes in my family, my life and my employment. I let my fears overtake my goals.  I let my insecurities spread into my work, and though nothing had changed, suddenly I was telling myself that I'm a hack who shouldn't quit my day job (if I actually had one).  My negative self-talk bled into my identity (as a person and as an author) and suddenly, I felt like an impostor. 

I was a horse who was out to pasture so long I forgot there was a barn I could go back to.  

I have a room in my house that's crammed full of art supplies and papers and books.  Its my studio & office.  I am so lucky to have space that's just for creation.  I let it get sullied with a bunch of stuff that shouldn't be there and it stopped feeling like a room of inspiration and more like a storage locker.  Yet another obvious resistance to writing, I was treating my work space like a junk drawer.

Last week, I went to the library searching for some inspiration. I picked up the 2015 copy of Writer's Market, even though I already knew I wasn't going to query my work to any publishers or agents anymore.  I just wanted to feel a little pride in the idea of being an author.  I also grabbed a book about self-publishing.  Unlike Writer's Market (which has been sitting on my counter for the past week unopened), that indie publishing  book took me by the hand and drug me out of my self-imposed prison. I devoured it.  I am a changed woman.  (If you're into writing, you MUST READ: Write. Publish. Repeat. by Sean Platt and Johnny B. Truant.)

This book just reminded me that I was doing everything right before.  Being an author is a career.  One that takes work and perseverance.  I have all the skills and I love to write. Though I have neglected my career for more than a year, I don't have to start over. I can pick right up where I had left off.  I am back in the driver's seat.  I am finding my voice, again, and it feels really good.