"When I go to sleep, I can't count sheep for the white lines in my head" --Bruce Springsteen

Let’s imagine, for a moment, that I prioritize travel. 

I’m actively silencing the voices that say “it’s too expensive” or “that’s not for you.” 

Why the hell not? Why not take the extra $1,000 that sometimes comes in from a well-paid gig and go explore some part of the world? 

Granted, right now I’m prioritizing raising funds for my intimacy direction certification program, and I will always have bills to pay. But I’m daring myself to ask “What would it look like if I prioritized exploring the world?” 

I’m also actively silencing any voices that come from outside of myself, about the dangers of traveling alone. I’m not really worried. Our world looks less like that dumb dumb movie “Taken” than people think, and I’m confident in my ability to navigate potentially dangerous situations safely. (Maybe I shouldn’t be, but I am. *shrug*) 

I also have no qualms about navigating a new city or transportation system by myself, figuring out where to eat, or getting lonely. I’m an introvert and homebody at heart, and most of the things I’d want to do in a foreign place are things that can be done alone–read, wander, eat, write. 

(That said, if anyone I love wants to join me, let’s make plans! We’ll go out dancing!) 

I’ve had wanderlust for a few weeks now. Maybe even months. But I picked up a copy of National Geographic labeled “100 Unforgettable Destinations” and now I’m revisiting my globe-trotter Pinterest board and making lists. 

Amsterdam. 

I’ll bring my tattered copy of “Anne Frank” and my own journal when I visit the place that feels so familiar to me already, see the location of a story that has informed so much of my life. 

Paris. 

An airbnb will probably be cheaper by the month. I’ll find some little place and walk to marketplaces every few days to buy food, sit at cafes and write, visit museums. I’ll eat at an outdoor table with a book in my hands. 

Tahiti. Or Bora Bora? Someplace tropical. 

Because for some reason, I just assume that tropical locations are not for plebes like me? But I don’t need an all-inclusive White Lotus resort experience. Just sun and sand and sea. 

Machu Picchu. 

Apparently it’s a whole-ass PROCESS to get there. But I bet it would be worth it. I’ll stop by the salt flats in Bolivia while I’m nearby. Swing up to the pyramid of Chichen Itza. 

Egypt. 

The pyramids at Giza. Hapshetsut’s palace. Amarna. Karnak. They’ve held me in thrall for as long as I can remember. It seems absurd that I wouldn’t visit them in person at least once. 

England. 

Plays at the West End, and a trip to Stratford-upon-Avon. A pilgrimage for the hopeless theatre kid I am. 

But while I make all these plans, it’s been deeply fulfilling to think back to all of the magical traveling I have gotten to do. Through the generosity of family and friends and happy sets of circumstances, I’ve been able to explore more corners of the earth than some people get to do in their lifetimes. (And I've gotten to do it all with some incredible people!)

I’ve eaten Black Forest gateau in the actual Black Forest of Germany, and explored the fairytale castle of Neuschwanstein, wandered the cobbled streets of towns centuries old.

I’ve strolled the National Mall and wandered past Ford’s theatre, walked through the museum of the home where Lincoln died. 

I’ve snorkeled in Hawai’i and Mexico.  

I’ve climbed ancient ruins in Belize and walked beaches in El Salvador. 

I’ve explored the ruins of ancient Greece, where I ran a footrace in Olympia, had a philosophical discussion in Athens, wandered the alleys of Pompeii, spoke the words of Sophocles’ “Oedipus Rex” at the ancient theatre Dionysus. 

I’ve wandered past Italian families playing soccer on Sunday afternoons to get to the Coliseum in Rome, and I’ve taken a train through Tuscany to stand before Botticelli’s “Birth of Venus” in Florence. I’ve eaten pizza in Naples. 

I’ve walked through the maze of the Grand Bazaar and slipped my shoes off to enter the Hagia Sophia in Instanbul. 

I’ve wandered the French Quarter of New Orleans, jazz music pouring out from every open door, a new pack of tarot cards in my purse. 

I’ve looked up at the Redwoods and looked down into Crater Lake. I’ve hiked slot canyons and hoodoos in southern Utah, and looked up at the stars from the waters of Leigh Lake in Grand Teton National Park. I’ve spent entire summers in Yellowstone. 

I’ve taken a ferry across the San Francisco Bay and taken an elevator to the top of the Empire State Building. 

When I list it out like this, I feel astonishingly lucky. 

So I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, listening to some weird voice that says traveling isn’t for me. It clearly already is for me. I just have to ask myself what it looks like when I make it a priority, instead of something I do when others invite me.  

I guess we’ll find out. 

What I Learned from (Almost) Doing 50 Hours of Yoga in a Year

Actually, I won’t be able to tell you what I learned doing 50 hours of yoga. Because I didn’t do 50 hours. I did do 30 hours and 36 minutes, though, and I learned plenty from that! 

I set this as my birthday goal last year, but didn’t really post anything about it here like I usually do. It somehow felt more private, so I just quietly made my spreadsheet and paid for the premium version of my yoga app and set up a reminder in my phone to do yoga every other day, even if it was only for 10 minutes. I chose a goal of 50 hours because it worked out to be about an hour a week, or 20 minutes three times a week, or even 10 minutes six times a week. Not so much as to be overwhelming, but enough to make a difference. 

I had visions of being so flexible and strong at the end of this journey. I was going to be able to do headstands. I was going to be able to lift my leg straight up into the air, knee by my ear, my eyes gazing out serenely. I was going to have clearly defined abs and no double chin and I was going to be Zen as f*ck. 

Surprise: none of that happened. I am not really any stronger or more flexible than I was a year ago. And honestly, I don’t know if I would have been even if I had made it to 50 hours. But it was still worth doing.  

Because it sustained me. It kept me grounded through an ongoing pandemic, through a breakup, through cancelled shows and new jobs and stressful days and lonely nights. 

Most of the time, it was me and my app, my iPad propped in front of me in my room, my yoga mat unrolled in the space between my bed and desk. A few times, I joined a virtual yoga class, including one instance where I was the only student. I was always a little wary at the beginning of a formal class—did I really have an hour to give to this? And I always did. 

There were times when I dreaded, absolutely DREADED, doing yoga. When the task felt so heavy that it seemed to pull the rest of my to do list down, a ball and chain to my day.  Sometimes I just crossed it off the list without doing it. I just couldn’t bring myself to “show up at the mat” or whatever. But sometimes I showed up anyway, teeth gritted, until they weren’t gritted anymore. 

There were times when it was a desperately needed respite. When my mind was going 10 million miles a minute, when my whole body felt twitchy with the frantic need to ACCOMPLISH ACCOMPLISH ACCOMPLISH. When it took putting everything else aside and just breathing for one goddamn minute to help me get to sleep. 

There were times when I felt luxuriously glad to be doing yoga. When I moved into wide child’s pose with the kind of sigh that’s usually reserved for slipping into a hot bath. When that “Zen as f*ck” feeling settled into my spine with ease and I felt at home in my body. 

And there were times when I sobbed my way through poses. It happened a lot after my breakup in November. I would be going through my day with a background note of sadness, and then I’d move into some pose and it would all come rushing out. Like all the sorrow I was carrying was waiting for some kind of release. I don’t know what I would have done with all of that ache if I didn’t have yoga. 

I had weeks when I was unrolling the mat every single day. And then weeks where it lay completely untouched. It’s still that way--inconsistent. But even if the habit hasn’t taken hold exactly, I still feel the place that yoga has taken up in my life. Now, I can sense when I’m feeling a little tangled—emotionally or physically. I can feel when I need the slow untangling that yoga brings me. I’ve come to accept that I don’t need the leggings, I don’t need the classes (although I do like them!), I don’t need to do this for an hour every day, or even for an hour at a time. 25-minute increments still settle and untangle and strengthen me. 

There’s often a sort of self-righteous evangelism that comes with yoga. At least that’s how I interpreted it from most of social media. A lot of promises of it changing my life. It takes a certain level of privilege to be able to make yoga practice a part of your life. I used to get the impression that most yoga classes were filled with skinny white women who can afford $70 leggings. Which is sometimes true. But I have discovered spaces where all are welcome, and found a home on my mat that I didn't know was waiting for me. 

And now here’s the thing: I’m becoming a bit of a yoga evangelist myself. I hope I’m not coming across as self-righteous about it, but I've learned that yoga really is for everyone. Rich, poor, fat, skinny, cisgender, transgender, any and all races and abilities. Is your stomach getting in the way of doing child’s pose? Just modify it to wide child’s pose. Can’t afford classes or a studio membership? Find a free guided class on YouTube (there are hundreds). Don’t have an hour to give to your practice? Just do 10 minutes. Can’t touch your toes? Touch your knees. 

It sounds cheesy and evangelical and unrealistic, but I've come to believe that yoga really doesn't ask anything of you except showing up. And I'm grateful for what I found as I showed up this past year. I don't think I'll stop. 

On Shakespeare

I did it. 

Two years ago, I made a goal that by my 35th birthday, I will have read, watched, or participated in all 37 of Shakespeare's plays.

I turn 35 tomorrow, and I finished the 37th play today.

I have some thoughts on Shakespeare in general to share, but first, a quick tour through the plays at a glance! (A handful of these have some disputed authorship, or shared authorship, but this list is the one that came up most often when I was researching the Shakespeare canon.)

Antony and Cleopatra
Read with some friends at the "Sigh Away Sundays" club in 2018
SUMMARY: Classic story of obsessive love, with a classic death by asp bite for our heroine.

Coriolanus
Watched the 2011 film
SUMMARY: OMG so much war, with one badass mama tries to convince her son to stop doing so much war.

Hamlet
Watched lots of films and productions, read lots of times
SUMMARY: Hamlet can't decide whether or not to kill his uncle (or himself?).

Julius Caesar
Read during undergrad at BYU-Idaho
SUMMARY: Ancient Greek story of ambition and betrayal.

King Lear
Read during undergrad at BYU-Idaho
SUMMARY: Which of the three daughters loves their father, the king? Who knows, he'll go mad.

Macbeth
Watched a handful of productions, played a Witch in a production at BYU-Idaho in 2009
SUMMARY: Witches and ambition and battles and Scotland!

Othello
Read in high school, played Bianca in a production in Salt Lake City in 2018
SUMMARY: Racism and rumors cause PROBLEMS.

Romeo and Juliet
Read lots and lots, seen a few productions
SUMMARY: Young teenagers from feuding families fall "in love" and everything goes terribly.

Timon of Athens
Watched the 2017 Stratford Festival production online
SUMMARY: Money can't buy you friendship.

Titus Andronicus
Watched the 2017 Royal Shakespeare Company production online
SUMMARY: Romans (and Goths) are bloody and cut off hands and heads in revenge.

All's Well That Ends Well
Watched the 2013 Shakespeare By The Sea production
SUMMARY: The ole bedroom bait-and-switch will cure marital displeasure.

As You Like It
Watched the 2017 Shakespeare's Globe production online
SUMMARY: Rosalind dresses as a boy and falls in love with Orlando the poet in the forest.

Comedy of Errors
Played a servant in a production at BYU-Idaho in 2004
SUMMARY: Twins cause hilarity and chaos.

Cymbeline
Watched the 2016 Royal Shakespeare Company production online
SUMMARY: War, mistaken identities, wagers on virtue.

Love's Labour's Lost
Watched the 2014 Royal Shakespeare Company production online
SUMMARY: Studying is more important than women. Right? RIGHT?!

Measure for Measure
Read during undergrad at BYU-Idaho
SUMMARY: Corruption vs purity, morality and mercy in Venice! Starring Angelo the creepy lecherous priest!

Merry Wives of Windsor
Watched the RSC 2018 production online
SUMMARY: Falstaff tries to seduce two different women, but together they outsmart him multiple times.

Merchant of Venice
Read during undergrad at BYU-Idaho
SUMMARY: Antonio owes Shylock a pound of flesh.

Midsummer Night's Dream
Played Mustardseed in a production at South Medford High School, watched
SUMMARY: Fairies and lovers and actors in the woods!

Much Ado about Nothing
Watched the film in high school
SUMMARY: Benedick and Beatrice are secretly IN LOVE, and rumors both cause problems and solve them.

Winter's Tale
Watched the Shakespeare By The Sea 2018 production
SUMMARY: A king freaks out over the virtue of his wife, and Hermione is a living statue.

Two Gentlemen of Verona
Watched the 2014 Royal Shakespeare Company production online
SUMMARY: Male friendship rivalry in romantic Italy.

Twelfth Night
Watched the 1996 film
SUMMARY: Twins cause romance and hilarity.

Troilus and Cressida
Watched the 2018 Royal Shakespeare Company production online (post-apocalyptic!)
SUMMARY: Greeks and Trojans (Helen and Achilles and all them) freak out about war and lechery.

The Tempest
Watched a production in high school, played Caliban and designed sound for a children's production at BYU-Idaho, played Gonzalo in a production at BYU-Idaho
SUMMARY: Prospero is magical and rules an island. His former betrayers show up and things happen.

Taming of the Shrew
Watched multiple productions and films
SUMMARY: Petruchio "tames" the headstrong Kate and marries her so that her younger sister can get married.

Pericles
Watched the 1984 BBC film
SUMMARY: Pericles guesses a riddle about incest and then goes on a lot of adventures that involve shipwrecks.

Henry IV, Part I
Watched the 2014 Royal Shakespeare Company production online
SUMMARY: Hal is Prince of Wales but mostly wants to hang with Falstaff.

Henry IV, Part II
Watched the 2014 Royal Shakespeare Company production online
SUMMARY: More of Hal hanging with Falstaff, and more of Falstaff and his gang in general.

Henry V
Watched the 2014 Royal Shakespeare Company production online
SUMMARY: Hal is now officially royal and beats France in a battle on St Crispin's Day, even though the odds are against him.

Henry VI, Part I
Watched the 2013 Globe Theatre production, performed on the battlefield of Barnet in the rain
SUMMARY: Joan of Arc fights for France, and people wear red and white roses to show their varying allegiances.

Henry VI, Part II
Watched the 2013 Globe Theatre production, performed on the battlefield of Barnet
SUMMARY: Women and commoners all seek to take over.

Henry VI, Part III
Watched the 2013 Globe Theatre production, performed on the battlefield of Barnet
SUMMARY: Bloody revenge and we meet Richard III.

Henry VIII
Watched the 1979 BBC film adaptation.
SUMMARY: Everything was the corrupt Catholic Church's fault and Queen Elizabeth and her dad are actually awesome.

King John
Watched the 2015 Stratford Festival production online
SUMMARY: France vs. England, starring a witty bastard

Richard II
Watched the 2013 Royal Shakespeare Company production online (starring David Tennant as Richard)
SUMMARY: Spending money on Irish wars leads to the rebellion of nobles, especially when they think the king is weak.

Richard III
Watched the 1995 film
SUMMARY: Tyrant with back problems.

BONUS: Two Noble Kinsmen
Watched a production by Grassroots Shakespeare Company in Salt Lake City, 2018
SUMMARY: Brothers in jail fall in love with the same woman.

And here’s what I’ve learned:


Shakespeare is AMAZING.

I know that his talent as a writer gets talked about so much that it’s a cliché, but really, truly, his writing is incredible. The language, the wit, the character development. Dude could freaking WRITE. Gimme those dirty puns and those inspiring speeches and that quick banter and those rambling soliloquies. I am here for all of it. Shakespeare activates this part of my heart and soul and brain that nothing else can, and I don’t know how to describe it except to say that it’s bliss and satisfaction and delight.

I am a big fan of the Royal Shakespeare Company

I watched a good portion of these plays on DigitalTheatre.com, where the Royal Shakespeare Company has made recordings available for a small fee. And it was WORTH it. I watched a few other productions online, from Shakespeare By The Sea and The Stratford Festival and The Globe and the BBC, but by far, my favorite productions were always the RSC’s. The costumes and lights and sets and ACTING and concepts and just all of it. (The exception was the ending of the RSC’s Love’s Labors Lost, which I thought was not well justified or developed.)

There are some common themes in Shakespeare’s plays

I think because I was consuming Shakespeare so frequently, especially during the last year or so, I began to see come common themes. The most notable of which is this: When men freak out about the “chastity” of the women they love because they listen only to other men about it, all hell breaks loose. In fact it’s a major plot point in at least 7 of Shakespeare’s plays: Othello, Cymbeline, The Merry Wives of Windsor, Much Ado About Nothing*, The Winter’s Tale, Two Gentlemen of Verona, and Troilus and Cressida.

I know that misunderstandings about sex are good for high-stakes theatre, both comedic and dramatic, and it’s something that would resonate with Elizabethan audiences. But I also like to think that Shakespeare was trying to tell us something.

Other notable themes include gender-f*ckery/queerness, the dangers of ambition, duality/opposites, appearances vs. reality, and revenge.

The histories are actually pretty awesome

I’ve always struggled getting into the histories. I haven’t even really tried that hard because I was like “royalty is boring” but it turns out I was mostly wrong. I am especially a huge fan of the Henry V story (Henry IV, Part 1; Henry IV, Part 2; and Henry V). The RSC produced all three plays with the same cast and concept, and I fell in love with our boy Harry and Falstaff is delightful, and that St Crispin’s Day speech really did make me cry.

I could spend the rest of my life studying, reading, watching, performing, and talking about Shakespeare and still make new discoveries

That’s part of why Shakespeare has lasted so long. His texts are so rich with meaning and so layered, and there are so many possible interpretations of his work and I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of it.



I’m almost tempted to re-do this entire challenge every ten years or so. In the meantime,

If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended—
That you have but slumbered here
While these visions did appear.

(exits, pursued by a bear)









* The word “nothing” in the title of “Much Ado About Nothing” has a triple meaning. 1. Regular definition, AKA absence of something. 2. The word “nothing” has an Elizabethan pronunciation of “noting,” as in “noticing.” 3. IT’S ALSO A SLANG EUPHEMISM FOR VAGINA. This play is literally called “A Whole Lot of Freaking Out Over Rumors/Noticing/Pussy.”

Breathe

“I need another short breather,” I say. 

 

Patrick stops a few steps ahead of me. “No worries,” he says. “We’re in no rush.” 

We’re standing in the shade, halfway through the first ¼ mile of this hike, which has a 600-foot elevation gain. I lean forward and put my hands on my knees as my lungs struggle to gulp enough air. 

“Don’t let me forget my inhaler ever again,” I say. 

 I’ve only had my inhaler for a few months, so I never remember to bring it anywhere. I got it after I realized that my lungs were consistently tight after going on walks in spring. My lungs often felt tight in spring in general. But this time, my lungs felt tight in early spring when I was going on daily walks in an effort to stave off the madness of quarantine. (The albuterol prescription also helped alleviate my anxiety about having COVID-19. If the inhaler helped, it meant I was negative for the disease?) 

“Okay,” I say, once my lungs stop burning. “I’m ready.” We walk slowly, setting a deliberate pace. I glance around at the aspens, the rocks, the wildflowers. I take a sip of water. My head has begun to ache. Not enough oxygen. Not enough hydration. 

I put one foot in front of the other. I’ll probably be a little sore tomorrow. If I had marched yesterday, I would be sore today too. But yesterday, we stayed in the car, honking the horn, blasting Childish Gambino’s “This Is America,” participating in a drive-by protest of police brutality. 

I wish there was a phrase other than “drive-by.” 

My muscles and bones and lungs and heart carry me up the mountain. They’re carrying a lot for me nowadays. 

How it felt to dance in the blinding heat, a few hundred of us in the streets, dance-dancing for the revolution, blocks away from the District Attorney’s office. How it felt to lay on the hot pavement in front of the governor’s mansion, face-down, gravel pressing into my knees, for eight minutes and forty-six seconds. The burn in my feet and knees as we walked up the long hill to the Capitol building. I forgot my inhaler that day, too. 

Patrick and I pace ourselves, a slow and steady climb to the lake. When we get there, the light glints off the water, and the grass is wet and cool at its edges. The sky is blue blue blue, the leaves on the aspens twirling in the breeze. 

It feels good to be outside. I temporarily took Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter off my phone yesterday. I’ve recently found myself caught in an endless cycle of bad mental health, which I try to alleviate with social media, but social media makes it worse. So I’m doing a “fast” for a few days, even though I’m always judgmental when other people do that. Just have some f***ing self-control, I always think. Or, If you think social media sucks that much, I think you just have crappy friends. 

But I also apparently lack self-control. And it’s not that social media sucks, or that I have crappy friends. It’s that I mostly have passionate, empathetic, and compassionate friends who are constantly fighting for justice and equity and it’s beautiful and also somehow exhausting, and then I have a few friends who keep doing theatre and having social gatherings without masks and it is NOT beautiful and it is definitely exhausting. (The pandemic is not over, my friends. You are endangering everyone around you and prolonging hardship for yourself and your entire community, my friends.) 

And I’m exhausted by strangers stopping me to discuss how “not all police are bad” because they see the sign on my car. I’m exhausted by people telling me that Black Lives Matter is a terrorist organization. I’m exhausted by editing my resume for every remote job posting that I find on ZipRecruiter. I’m exhausted by not being able to breathe when I walk up a mountain. I’m exhausted by calling the DA’s office every day to ask that the life sentence charges be dropped against protestors. I’m exhausted by the steady and relentless heat of this corner of the planet, and by the wildfires that blur the skies for days on end, and by my dwindling savings account. 

So I’m taking a break. I’m taking a break, knowing that my whiteness is part of what allows me to take a break. But I'll be back to do the good work eventually. I just need a few moments. 

A few moments to just breathe.

So much past inside my present

PART I: TEN YEARS

I’ve been seeing people posting a cool little summary of the past decade on social media. And it occurred to me that I’ve had a pretty full decade, and I feel really happy looking back on it. I have a handful of socially celebrated “achievements” on this list—school and career things. But I’ve also accomplished a lot of things that were personal goals, or things that I’ve dreamt of for years. And many of them don’t come with particular rewards or accolades. But I love that I did them. So in my long decade summary, I’m including both the things that were a big deal in general (whether accomplishments or just experiences), and the things that were a big deal just to me. So here are the things I accomplished from 2009 – 2019.

Moved back to Rexburg after living and working in California.
Did improv comedy with Comic Frenzy at BYU-Idaho.
Performed an original song at Acoustic Café at BYU-Idaho.
Got married.
Got a Bachelor’s Degree.
Taught English as adjunct faculty at the university level.
Finally got an iPhone.
Visited Honduras, El Salvador, Mexico, Italy, Greece, and Turkey.
Met Mike McCready and attended 2 Pearl Jam concerts.
Moved to Utah.
Got a talent agent.
Worked in public education.
Worked with Stephen Soderberg and Michael Cerberus on an HBO mini series.
Worked with Rob Reiner and Cary Elwes (FIRST TEENAGE CELEBRITY CRUSH) on a film.
Got divorced, and survived the trauma and heartbreak of it.
Got a Master’s degree, which included writing a 143-page thesis.
Lived in seven different places.
Got paid to act.
Played a romantic lead in a comedy.
Performed in 26 full-length theatre productions.
Sound designed 8 full-length theatre productions.
Auditioned over 135 times.
Joined the Improvables Improv Comedy team in Centerville.
Had a speaking role in a Lifetime horror film.
Did 3 commercials.
Did 2 industrials.
Worked as background on 12 film/television projects.
Watched a ton of live theatre, both in New York and in Utah.
Became a company member at An Other Theater Company.
Opened an Etsy shop of subversive cross stitches, which made a little over $1,600 in its first year.
Wrote 655 blog entries.
Upped my dose of antidepressants from 50 mg to 100 mg
Spent 3 days in a psychiatric hospital.
Started working with a therapist to unpack and work through past traumas, and build a toolbox to help me through current and future challenges.
Became an aunt (x4!)
Began a “Sister Blog Challenge.”
Got my first tattoo.
Had a major faith transition.
Worked in a law office.
Worked as a simulation patient at a university medical program.
Started a long-term relationship, post-divorce.
Began training as an intimacy choreographer.
Started directing my first full-length theatrical production.
Got called back for my #1 bucket list dream role of Miss Hannigan in “Annie” (which callback I bombed because I was WAAAYYY in my head and also because I hiked a volcano in Hawai’i, took a red-eye flight back to Utah, showered and changed at home, then drove to Orem and attempted to do the callback with very little sleep or preparation and it was probably the worst callback I’ve ever done in my life).
Started learning how to read tarot cards.
Went on as an understudy for a theatrical performance.

That’s a pretty damn awesome decade.

PART II: FOUR YEARS

I was thinking about how my life has changed since early 2017. I’ve had the occasional sensation of “being on the wrong timeline.” It feels like the end of 2016 sent our universe spinning off into some unfamiliar dimension. But I also feel like I’ve been “leveling up” since being thrown off course. And I feel like each year has a particular theme.

2017: Survival
This was the year of just getting through it. A morally dubious and incredibly un-qualified man was in the highest office of the United States. My marriage of almost seven years was ending. The whole world seemed upside down. So I had to just sort of hibernate for a lot of it. I embraced the self-induced coma. I worked and studied and rehearsed and performed and slept and cried and art journaled and watched a helluva lot of TV.

2018: Distraction
I did like, six overlapping theatre projects during 2018. I didn’t need to be in survival mode quite as much anymore, but I wasn’t quite ready to just be still. I wasn’t quite ready to “do the work” outside of my therapist’s office. Some of the distraction was to avoid feeling and working through things, but some of it was just circumstantial. A new romance is generally pretty distracting, in a good way.

2019: Incubation
This past year, I’ve felt like there are all these little seeds that have been just waiting, growing, getting stronger, getting ready to burst into the light. Things with careers and relationships and friendships and just…life in general. I’ve been preparing, consciously and unconsciously, to take some steps towards some of my mountains.

So I think 2020 will be the year of building. I think it will be when some of these seeds sprout, and some of them may wither and some of them may grow roots. But we’ll see.

I'm excited to see.

Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy: A Short Film

FADE IN:

INT. COFFEE SHOP – DAY

A WOMAN in her thirties sits at a table, a half-eaten croissant on a plate next to her. She is staring blankly at the laptop screen in front of her. Sitting next to her is a man in his twenties, leaning on the woman’s shoulder. This is BB.

BB

So, what are you going to write?

(The woman ignores him and places her fingers over the keyboard.)

BB

(poking her arm) Oooh ooh you could suck at screenwriting again!

WOMAN

Ssshhh.

BB

Or you could suck at poetry. You haven’t tried writing a poem in a while.

(BB begins chewing on the Woman’s arm, speaking as he bites her. The woman attempts to type, trying to ignore BB.)

BB

You used to be such a prolific poet. (with a dramatic sigh) Truly. You used to write poetry all the time. Remember the days when you would have at least a dozen drafts of poems on your computer? At any given time? (BB starts poking the woman in addition to biting her.) Can you even really call yourself a poet if you haven’t written a poem in months? How often do you have to write poetry to call yourself a poet?

WOMAN

(pushing BB away) I’m trying to work.

BB

On what?

WOMAN

I’m…writing.

BB

(imitating her) “I’m…uh…writing.” “I’m uh…BIG PAUSE…writing.” Why the big pause, sister?

WOMAN

You’re distracting me.

BB

La la la.

WOMAN

I’m writing an essay.

BB

Oh, like Lena Dunham? She’s an essayist. What are you writing about?

WOMAN

The confusion of dating in your twenties.

BB

Oh. (sympathetically—breaking the bad news) I think Lena Dunham already wrote about that. And kind of…better? Like she was better at it? Than you?

(The Woman sighs)

WOMAN

(almost a rote recitation, a mantra) I don’t have to be Lena Dunham. I can have my own perspective. It doesn’t matter if someone else already wrote about something. The thing that’s unique is my voice.

(BB shrugs and puts his hands in the air, as if to say “your funeral.” The Woman types in silence for a few minutes, while BB attempts to entertain himself. But BB’s attention span is short. He watches the laptop screen, and can’t keep quiet.)

BB

I thought you said this was about dating in your twenties.

WOMAN

It is.

BB

Then why are you writing about being a teenager?

WOMAN

I’m setting things up. You don’t understand what the events in my twenties mean unless you have the teenage stories.

BB

But won’t people not understand the teenage stories unless they have the childhood stories?

(The Woman glares at BB, then glares at her laptop screen. Then she deletes everything. Time to start over.)

BB

Ooh ooh ooh! Get it girl, I love that attitude. You write that play! I just love it. You suck at playwrighting SO BAD, and you just do it anyway. You don’t even give a damn. You just do it. (thoughtfully) You know, it’s funny. You love theatre so much. You’ve dedicated so much of your life to it. It’s so funny that you can’t write a good play. Like, at all. Isn’t that funny? You’ve spent those 10,000 hours gaining all this expertise and you’re still shit at writing plays.

WOMAN

I’m ignoring you.

BB

(snuggling the woman aggressively) That’s okay. I’ll just be here.

(BB distractions gradually build—pulling her hair, licking her face, chewing on her arms, flicking her fingers, trying to close the laptop. BB is a toddler demanding attention. The Woman does her best to ignore BB’s distractions and tries to type, but it becomes increasingly difficult.)

BB

I don’t even know what you’re trying to write, but I can tell you right now, it’s not going to be as good as some of the other stuff you’ve written. But it SHOULD be. You really have no excuse. You should be improving all the time.

WOMAN

Be quiet.

BB

Every thing you write you should be better than the best thing you’ve ever written. That’s how growth happens, right?! What else is a $70,000 graduate degree in writing for? You know how to do this now, so there’s no way you can get away with failing.

WOMAN

Shut up!

BB

Write, girl! You’ve got to be the best! Hey, maybe if you write something good, your parents and teachers and friends will wish they were as good as you are.

(The Woman tries to cover her ears, but BB is prying her hands away so he can keep assaulting her with words)

WOMAN

Shut up!

BB

Keep trying harder. Write. Be the best writer. Be the best and no one will leave you. Your boyfriend doesn’t want to be with a failure. Your bosses don’t want you to suck. If you aren’t good at things, what reason do people have to love you? Be the best and no one will leave you. Be the best and no one will leave you. Be the best and no one will leave you. Be the best and no one will leave you.

(The Woman is reaching her breaking point, and BB’s assault reaches a fever pitch as he repeats:)

BB

Be the best and no one will leave you. Be the best and no one will leave you. Be the best and no one will leave you. Be the best and no one will leave you.

WOMAN

Hey!

(BB is startled out of his monologue. The Woman looks at BB for a long moment. He returns her gaze.)

WOMAN

Hey. We’re going to be okay.

BB

But what if someone leaves you?

(The Woman gives a small smile, then turns back to her laptop. BB makes a few attempts to distract her, but every time he does, the woman gives him a small gesture of affection—a pat, a squeeze, an acknowledgement.)

(And then she keeps typing.)

THE END

1667: What I've Learned from Six Years of NaNoWriMo

(What the hell is NaNoWriMo?! Click here.)

Most of these lessons apply specifically to writers, but there's probably something in here for everyone. I hope so, at least.

First of all, I don't like writing novels. That's an important thing I've learned. I love writing, but I'm not particularly good at writing novels, and also I don't particularly enjoy it. How the hell do people get to be good at writing novels?! I feel like I'm decent at poetry and creative non-fiction because I do it ALL THE TIME. Do novelists just write novels ALL THE TIME?! Anyway, novels are not my strong suit. I'm not a completely horrendous novelist, but I also don't enjoy it enough to practice at this point in my life/writing career. I value NaNoWriMo because I don't think I would have learned that about myself if I hadn't written three full manuscripts, and started three others.

Second of all, that daily word count goal is key. If I fall behind for even one day, I struggle to catch up. Fall behind for two days and I’m doomed. For some, this attitude is disastrous in the event that they fall behind. For me, it motivates me to not fall behind.

Third, 1,667 words are easier to write than 50,000. 50,000 words over 30 days is 1,667 words per day. And that’s totally manageable if you make the time for it. If you can set aside an hour per day, even in increments, you can totally write 1,667 words a day. If that still feels like too many, write 834 words twice a day.

Fourth, you can do hard things. This is a little trite, but the first year that I completed a NaNoWriMo novel, my greatest sense was one of exhausted accomplishment. I wrote a NOVEL. And as clichéd as it sounds, it was a good reminder to carry into other areas of my life. Need to build some shelves? You totally can, because you wrote a novel. Not sure how to play this role? You’ll figure it out, because you wrote a novel. Wanna go to grad school? You totally can, because YOU WROTE A NOVEL.

Fifth, there’s a difference between writer’s block and writer’s fatigue. Writer’s fatigue is when you know what to write, and you just don’t feel like writing it. In those times, the best solution is to take a break. Given the need to meet a daily word count, that break may not be longer than a few hours. But take the break and do something different for a minute. Writer’s block is when you don’t know what to write. Or worse yet, you think you could probably come up with something but you can’t hear any inspiration over the sound of your own inner critic.

Sixth, there will always be an inner critic. There will probably be multiple inner critics. These are the voices who scream from the corners that you don’t know what you’re doing and that all your writing is rubbish and that you should probably give up because nothing you write is original or even interesting and it’s definitely not good. Fortunately, those critics are almost always liars. Unfortunately, the best way to shut them up is to do the very thing they’re telling you not to, which is just to write. (If you're looking for some encouragement, I HIGHLY recommend looking through the archive of NaNoWriMo Pep Talks, wherein published writers give advice and encouragement. The pep talks written by John Green and Dave Eggers are two personal favorites.)

Seventh, just write. Write the memoir or the novel or the poem or the screenplay or the stage play or the radio drama or the narrative journalism or all of the above. The point of NaNoWriMo is to write the thing you’ve always been meaning to write but haven’t gotten around to yet. It’s to help you create a disciplined writing habit. It’s to help you get the words onto the page. Because you can take 50,000 words of a terrible novel and make a good novel out of them. (The way to write a good story is to write a bad story and then fix it.) You can’t take 50,000 words of nothing and make them into a good novel.

Eighth, you’re not a garbage human if you decide to resign from NaNoWriMo. This is especially true if you’re working two jobs, performing in one play, rehearsing for another, preparing an audition for a third, spending more than two hours per day commuting, and discovering that you don’t, in fact, enjoy writing novels. If NaNoWriMo isn’t making you a better or more disciplined writer, isn’t helping you meet your goals, and is in fact taking away from your ability to do well at meeting other goals, then you don’t have to do it. You may feel guilty for a day or two, but ultimately, feel much more at home continuing a blog challenge with your sister and writing poetry and the occasional essay. (When I say “you” in this section, I mean myself. I’m talking about myself.)

The last thing I've learned is that if you embark on this month-long folly, setting up a profile on the NaNoWriMo website is actually a really helpful tool. The pep talks and badges and forums are awesome. I highly recommend it. Both setting up a profile and doing NaNoWriMo.

(photo via)

Upon Reflection of 33 Years

What was the best part of this last year? 
Meeting and starting to date Patrick.

What was the hardest part of this last year? 
There was a period of time in January/February that was really hard, for a lot of reasons.

What are you looking forward to in the coming year? 
Continuing to get to know Patrick, theatrical and other acting projects, continuing to learn and grow.

What do you want to work on during this next year? 
Finding greater balance between kindness towards others and kindness towards myself.

The Simple Life, Part One (Philosophy)

I really like organizing stuff. The physical arranging of objects pleases me. Efficiency pleases me. I’ve been talking about organization with a few people lately, so I decided to do a "How I Keep My Stuff Organized" blog. But as I was outlining, the blog entry sort of…grew. I actually have a lot to say about WHY I have the relationship I do with my belongings, and that those ideas are an important foundation for HOW I interact with my belongings. So I’ve split the original blog entry idea into two parts: the philosophical and the practical.

I consider myself a “minimalist.” There’s a huge range of what this means—for some people, it means owning almost nothing. For me, it means only owning that which I truly need and which truly has value for me. (I have a decent amount of possessions--far more than a lot of people on earth, but probably less than a lot of other people in my age and income bracket.) My favorite definition of minimalism comes from author and minimalist Joshua Becker, who says that minimalism is “the intentional promotion of the things we most value and the removal of everything that distracts us from it." It's about intentionality, not deprivation. It's not getting rid of things you need, it's evaluating what you actually need and actually don't and adjusting accordingly.

I’ve got a few sources of inspiration here. I grew up with three siblings and not much room. That sort of forces you to thin out your possessions. I moved a lot in my twenties, and that was easier when I didn’t have too much stuff. But my minimalist lifestyle goes beyond just my past experiences. Years ago, I watched a documentary series called “Beyond Survival With Les Stroud,” and it was one of those things that had a really profound effect on me. I've come to believe that happiness can be found with very few possessions.

There are other factors, too. I also read that ridiculous “Magical Tidying Up” book by Marie Kondo. (Which I highly recommend, even though most people don't tidy up to this extreme.) I did a ton of research about human impact on the environment, and ways that individuals can affect positive change. I’ve been inspired by the tiny house movement, and full-time RV living.

I also feel like I have to get a disclaimer out of the way right now. And that is that I don’t quite know how to talk about minimalism without sounding kind of insufferable. For one thing, there's an element of privilege here...minimalism can be one of those "trendy things rich white people like." But mostly, I worry that I come across as sounding superior. "My lifestyle is better" kind of vibe. I know that a minimalist lifestyle is better for me, but I can't presume to know what's best for everyone. I do think it's worth trying, or looking into. So with that said, here's:

WHY I MINIMALIST

To Help Alleviate Anxiety
There’s this psychological effect that clutter can have on a person. I think this is true for a lot of people, but I know for SURE it’s true for me, most of the time. (This is less true for me with other people’s clutter. Somehow.) Having things tidy makes me feel empowered and confident, and the easiest way to keep things tidy is to not keep a lot of things.

To Reduce My Environmental Footprint
Minimalist living helps preserve environmental resources in a few ways. Smaller living spaces take less energy to heat and cool. Anytime you buy something new (which you probably don’t need), that new thing took resources to manufacture and transport, and it will take resources to dispose of. (And when you have fewer things, you’re less likely to accidentally buy duplicates of things.) I also have this theory that the only reason we have stuff is that we have room for it. If we were to give ourselves less room for it, we'd find we could live without the stuff.

To Live Deliberately
This is sort of hard to explain, but this is a really big thing for me. When I have less “stuff,” it means that I have a deliberate relationship with everything I own. It also means I spend less time cleaning up clutter or looking for things, giving me more time to do things that are more meaningful to me.

To Keep Me (And My Budget) Focused On Other Things I Care About
I suppose this has a lot to do with living deliberately. But to be more specific, minimalism keeps me from being distracted. Instead of spending money on more “stuff,” I can spend money on things that are more meaningful to me. Instead of spending hours picking up clutter, I can read or paint or write or spend time with friends. Minimalism just takes way less tedious “work” to maintain.


I’m not sure exactly how naturally I lean towards minimalism...if I'd have ended up living this way without thinking about it. At this point, I know that it’s a deliberate lifestyle choice I have made for myself. I do not want a large house. I don't want a lot of “toys.” I want to surround myself with things that are useful and/or meaningful, and get rid of everything else.

I’m not going to tell you that you should get rid of everything you own. (I am going to tell you that you can get rid of a lot more than you think you can, though.) After all, the easiest way to organize your stuff is to get rid of most of it. I promise that most of you don’t need more than one suitcase, or that many pairs of socks, or that much silverware. I promise you can live without many of the things you "can't live without."

In the next entry, I’ll get into the practical side of how to organize stuff (and get rid of a lot of it). In the meantime, check out these pinterest ideas for inspiration.

Goals, a belated report

Those of you who know me well and/or follow this blog, know that I'm a goal and list oriented person. I've been doing this thing for the past few years, where instead of New Year's resolutions, I make goals at my birthday. This "31 Things" report is well overdue, but I was sort of preoccupied with other things until now. So here it is.

Okay, look. So this was the year I got divorced. I was just in survival mode for a lot of this year, so I'm going to cut myself some slack. 

As of September 9, 2017:

1 complete
2 incomplete

1. Read 1 script per month 
I want to write more scripts, and I'm a big believer that you should read the types of things you want to write. And I know there are thousands (TENS OF THOUSANDS) of amazing scripts out there that I just haven't gotten to yet. I want to have read 12 new scripts by the time I'm 32. They can be TV episodes, screenplays, plays, etc.
INCOMPLETE (10/12)

September 
X-Files: Season 3, Episode 3 "D.P.O." by Howard Gordon
The Nerd by Larry Shue

October 
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time by Simon Stephens (adapted from the book by Mark Haddon)
Trifles by Susan Glaspell
The Stronger by August Strindberg

November
Okay, so I didn't quite read one entire script this month. But it was because I was busy memorizing one, writing another, and workshopping a dozen more. So I'm gonna still count that, because I was surrounded by scripts all month. 

December
Uhhhhh...

January
To Kill A Mockingbird by Christopher Sergel, based on the novel by Harper Lee

February
Uhhhhh...

March
Uhhhhh...

April
Punxsutawney by Larry West
The Heart of Robin Hood by David Farr

May
Uhhhhh...

June
A Bundle of Trouble by Ruth Hale

July
Uhhhhh...

August
The Red Bike by Caridad Svitch

September

Uhhhhh...

2. Write a spec script
I have zero intention of publishing or sending out said spec script. I consider it purely an exercise in writing. It's a good way to start--it's kind of like fan fiction. The characters, world, and format already exist...I'm just creating a different story. I'm bowling with the gutter bumpers up, so to speak. I'm thinking "The X-Files"? I'll keep you posted.
INCOMPLETE

3. Complete 1 painting
I've had this on my list before, and I've had a few different ideas for paintings floating around in my head lately. I think I'd like to make one of them a reality this year.
DONE! A few times, actually. Painting of an anatomical heart, a big pink jellyfish, an abstract painting about wonder. 

And as for my new goals...

Something a little different this time around! Because the next chapter of my life is fairly uncertain, I'm going to work on one big goal over the next two years. Here it is: by the time I turn 35, on September 8, 2020, the goal is to have read, watched, or participated in all 37 of Shakespeare's plays. (Note: I'm not starting from the beginning--I'm counting the ones I'm already familiar with

Progress: 

12/37 

as of June 18, 2018

All's Well That Ends Well

As You Like It

Comedy of Errors


DONE! Played a servant in a production at BYU-Idaho

Love's Labour's Lost

Measure for Measure


Merchant of Venice


DONE! Read during undergrad at BYU-Idaho

Merry Wives of Windsor


Midsummer Night's Dream


DONE! Played Mustardseed in a production at South Medford High School

Much Ado about Nothing

DONE! Watched the film in high school

Taming of the Shrew


DONE! Watched multiple productions and films

Tempest


DONE! Watched a production in high school, played Caliban and designed sound for a children's production at BYU-Idaho, played Gonzalo in a production at BYU-Idaho

Twelfth Night

DONE! Watched the film

Two Gentlemen of Verona

Winter's Tale

Henry IV, Part I


Henry IV, Part II


Henry V

Henry VI, Part I

Henry VI, Part II


Henry VI, Part III


Henry VIII


King John


Pericles


Richard II


Richard III

Antony and Cleopatra

Coriolanus


Cymbeline

Hamlet


DONE! Watched lots of films and productions, read lots of times

Julius Caesar

King Lear

Macbeth


DONE! Watched a handful of productions, played a Witch in a production at BYU-Idaho

Othello


DONE! Read in high school, played Bianca in a production in Salt Lake City

Romeo and Juliet

DONE! Read lots and lots, seen a few productions

Timon of Athens

Titus Andronicus


DONE! Watched a film version

Troilus and Cressida

Hammers and Other Tools of the Trade

I just turned in my very last assignment for my MFA. And it felt like the kind of thing I should post elsewhere, too. 

I’ve got two big passions: writing and acting. (And also Netflix documentaries.) As I try to scratch out this last assignment for this class—my last assignment for my entire MFA—I keep thinking about how much the two have in common. And how much they have in common with painting or being a musician or any other branch of the arts. They all share the same DNA, and there are all these fundamental similarities. So I’ll say “writing” for the rest of this piece, but I really mean “art in general.”

Good writing takes vulnerability and courage and honesty. I had a director once say “what comes from the heart goes to the heart.” It doesn’t matter if it’s fiction or not. It won’t resonate if it’s not “true.”

Good writing takes a whole toolbox of skills. And you won’t use every tool in your toolbox for every thing you write. Some pieces need a hammer, and trying to use a tape measure would be counterproductive. Half of learning how to write is gathering tools, and the other half is learning how to pick the right tool for the job.

You can write for two reasons. One, because you are compelled by some muse. Two, in order to pay the bills. Ideally, you can do both at once. But not always. Sometimes you may write things you’re not passionate about so that you can pay the bills. And sometimes you write things you’re passionate about just because the muse speaks to you, and you eat mac and cheese for a few weeks until your next check comes in. But I think perhaps, the longer you stubbornly do both of those things, the more likely it is that you’ll be able to do both at the same time.

Becoming a published writer takes a kind of shameless and obnoxious self-promotion, and it sometimes feels icky. But it doesn't have to be icky. Don't think of it as selling yourself, but rather as sharing something you care about (your work) with others.

Finally, there will be days when it comes easily, when you brush up against that column of light, or if you’re really lucky, you’ll stand right in the middle of it. And there will be days when you’re tired and frustrated and stuck and the muse is silent. But keep writing anyway. Just sit down and do the work. Writing isn’t all inspired. But if you learn to swing a hammer, the muse will sometimes grab your hand and tell you where to aim.

photo via

The myth of progress

Listen, children. I've had a revelation. And I want to share it here.

I've been working on being a "professional actress" for a little over two years. In those two years, I've had some incredible opportunities. (This is going to sound very Gilderoy Lockhart-ish of me, so I apologize, but there's a point to this, so stick with me...) I've been on sets with Rob Reiner and Cary Elwes, I've acted opposite Michael Cerveris under the direction of Steven Soderbergh, I've done one local commercial, and I'm currently in rehearsal for my sixth stage production since moving to Utah. Which is all so so so amazing.

But there have been (and continue to be) plenty of "no's" along the way. And there's something particularly painful about "no's" that come after having success. You start to think awful things like, "I've played a lead in a Hale West Valley show, and now I'm ensemble?!" Isn't that awful? It's awful. It doesn't feel good. It isn't good. It's snobby and prideful and self-serving. So then you swing to the opposite and start thinking things like, "Those times I was cast were just a fluke. I'm not actually good. I'll never actually 'make it.' I truly deeply suck." Which also doesn't feel good. Both of those philosophies distract from doing the actual work of acting.

So here's my realization. I've been thinking of acting in this "linear progress" kind of way. Something kind of like this:

(Don't judge my hasty clip art illustration.)

And it makes total sense that I would think that way. There are plenty of forces at work to put this idea in my head. Darwin, for one. This is the subject of a Master's thesis, so I won't go into details, but there's this weird idea that people seemed to take from the theory of evolution, and that is that everyone and everything is working towards becoming more "advanced." And it's all tangled up with fairly recent ideas of imperialism, too...that some societies are more civilized than others, and that they can bring civilization to the primitive peoples of the world.

Not only is Darwin and imperialism at work, but all of the mythos of the American dream centers on the same idea of progress, of slowly rising to the top, out of your own hard work. And this is how most other industries work. You slowly get promoted until you're at the top. If you don't get to the top, well then, you didn't deserve to be there, or you didn't want to be there.

But for acting (or a lot of other industries, actually), I don't think it's quite an accurate way of looking at things. And I don't think it's quite as healthy a way of looking at things, either. There are a few accurate things about it, but I think it's mostly problematic. It allows for both pride ("I'm at the top!") and self-loathing ("I'm at the bottom!"), and it creates a world in which we set people up as "better" than others. It oversimplifies things, and ignores all of the other factors that go into casting. It doesn't leave much room for complexity. It also doesn't actually reflect reality. You don't move steadily up that green arrow. But when we think of acting in this way, we're filled with resentment when we feel we've moved "down." Because "that's not how it's supposed to work! I'm supposed to work hard, get better, keep getting bigger and better roles, and then I'll make it!"

So, maybe it's better to look at progress in acting in a more "cyclical" way. Something like this:

(More clip art action.)

If you think of acting this way, there's less feeling of "I'm not making progress." There's less resentment when you get a smaller role than you think you "deserved" or when you don't get cast. You take the incredible opportunities that come to you without thinking they're owed to you. You can't think of yourself as above someone else on some march of progress to the "top" when they're just across from you, or next to you. And if you keep your own acting goals in the center, then everything you do can be seen as moving towards that somehow.

Fame and fortune and success are strange, often impermanent things. John Travolta was nominated for two Academy Awards. He also made multiple talking baby movies...between Oscar nominations. If you think of acting progress in that linear way, those are steps backwards and jumps forwards...the momentum is exhausting.

Of course, it can also be exhausting to move around the circle above, too. Especially if you spend a lot of time in the "not being cast" portion of it. That's hard. And the only thing you can do is be patient and keep trying. I have a friend who recently moved to New York to pursue acting. She said that when she's talked to people, they all say, "You've got to work steadily at this for ten years. If you can stick with this for ten years, you can make this your full-time job." But most people only give it a year or so. A year isn't long enough. You've got to keep yelling "F*** you, Matt Damon!" until you're where you want to be.

There's also the very real possibility that doing this relentlessly for ten years will take too great a toll on you. It could be that the exhaustion of moving around that circle of progress is greater than the reward. It's a scary thing to realize--that you might need to take a step back, adjust your goals. There are two kinds of dread when it comes to doing that: the dread that you're giving up too easily, or the dread that comes from giving up a dream you've held onto for so long, even if it doesn't fit you any more. What will people think? Who will you be if you don't hold this dream? But you will suffer less if you listen to your own intuition, try not to give a damn about what other people think, and make the choices that will make you happy and whole.

I'm still trying to shift my own paradigm here. But this change in thinking has already helped me find peace, helped me live in the moment, helped me do better work onstage and be a better person offstage. I hope it can do the same for you.

A resignation

Liz Chapman
123 Address Place
Salt Lake City, UT 11111

Sunday, November 6, 2016

National Novel Writing Month
123 The Internet Blvd.
The Internet, The World 00000

Dear Sir or Madam:

This letter is to regretfully inform you that I have chosen to tender my resignation from this year's NaNoWriMo. Please know that it is very likely that I will participate in future years, and that your organization still has my full and enthusiastic support.

I am very grateful for the inspiration and guidance you have given me in past years. I first participated in NaNoWriMo in 2012, with a manuscript I did not complete that year, but which has since been finished, and which never would have existed without your group. I have completed a novel every November since then, and now have three full novel manuscripts. Through my participation in NaNoWriMo, I have learned discipline, how to overcome writer's block, the value of writing continually in order to improve, and have gained enormous confidence in my ability to create work. I am eternally grateful to your organization for all of the things you have given me.

In order that you may have a deeper understanding of my resignation, allow me to present my reasons:

I am currently pursuing my MFA in Creative Writing from an online university program. This semester, I am taking a class in ekphrastic poetry and a playwrighting class. Both of these courses demand that I complete weekly writing assignments, and in a few weeks, I will begin work on a full-length play manuscript. To add a 50,000-word novel to my to-do list gives me a sense of diluting my creativity...it forces me to focus on breadth instead of depth. I am not able to give any of my writing projects my full attention, especially with other demands like working as an actress and keeping a day job. Normally, I would reject "I'm spread too thin" as an excuse. I feel you must make writing a priority in order to be good at it. But with my MFA program, it's ALREADY a priority. It doesn't make sense to add a secondary writing priority. Doing so makes me less able to do meaningful work in either place.

This MFA program forces me to write regularly, which is one of the great strengths of NaNoWriMo. If that need is being met through homework assignments, I don't have as strong of a need to participate in writing a novel during November.

For me, NaNoWriMo is also a yearly reminder of the value of just creating, and that I am capable of writing, despite frustration or fatigue. But after 3 years, it's a lesson I feel I carry with me more permanently. I have less of a need for that reminder this year, though I'm sure the time will come when I need it again.

I have been worried that my resignation will be a disappointment to friends who have watched me on my yearly NaNoWriMo journey. I even set up a support group on Facebook for those who are participating this year. I regret stepping away from my novel, and worry about what it will mean for those friends who I began with. But ultimately, I knew this resignation was the best choice for me. I will still be available to offer moral support to my fellow WriMos, and I look forward to finishing my novel in the future. This resignation was not a decision made out of fatigue or frustration with my story or a lack of confidence. It was a thoughtful decision based on what my long-term and short-term goals are, and whether or not NaNoWriMo this year was helping me meet those goals.

Thank you for everything you do. You have inspired and continue to inspire generations of writers. I look forward to working with you again in the future.

Sincerely,

Liz Chapman