THE CREATIVE EDGE, now on Substack
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Come on over and check out my new blog, THE CREATIVE EDGE!
I’ve been working behind the scenes for years on a project I’ve called jokingly Type, Drink, Loathe.
Type, Drink, Loathe has been a part of my lexicon for more than a decade. It is the former title of a writing book that started in my Murderati days. Yes, I’m debating writing a book about writing. About creativity. About the realities of publishing and my journey through the writing life.
Back then, TDL was a flip, cute title that examined the three sections of my writing life: Type = Writing. Drink = Creativity and Spirituality. Loathe = The Business of Publishing. But so much has changed over the past decade. The industry. My work, my approach, my process. My personal life.
And it has such negative connotations—as was pointed out by a smart friend recently. I am not a negative person, at all.
That joking title simply doesn’t fit anymore. Especially Loathe. Primarily because there is nothing I loathe about my job. I have a complicated relationship with social media and marketing, yes, but if I actually loathed it, I wouldn’t do it. Full stop. The rest of it? I kind of love. I enjoy working with my teams to find the best paths to get books out of my head and into your hands. I love being surrounded by the creativity that goes into modern marketing. I love the art, and the audio, and the planning, and the plotting.
And when I say a complicated relationship, it’s mostly because I am an introvert. Letting people in has always been difficult for me. So opening my heart and soul on the internet to people I don’t know intimately? Yes, that’s challenging.
But being challenged is different than loathing something.
For the middle, Drink: My creativity and spirituality are not driven by substances. It was a joke play on a Hemingway ethos—done by 12, drunk by 3—but I don’t know anyone who actually does that outside of vacation. I certainly don’t. Dealing with the after-effects of Long Covid, I barely drink at all anymore. As such, external forces do not drive my gifts, nor the gifts of any writer I know.
The opening moniker, Type, still works, because, obviously, writing is what I spend the majority of my time doing, but without the other facets, the whole thing falls apart.
TDL, though, has been entrenched in my world for so long that the idea of rebranding freaked me out. Then I listened to the awesome interview between Tim Ferris and James Clear. They were discussing how Clear titled his mega-bestseller Atomic Habits. He was going through the process of the usual formula if X then Y, and how deviations with juxtaposed concepts were more his speed. He used a huge favorite of mine, Deep Work by Cal Newport. Atomic Habits. Deep Work.
It came as suddenly as a meteor streaking across a darkened sky.
Galactic Creativity
That would be a super cool title for a book, right?
A few months ago, I was talking to a dear friend, who is my sounding board on all things, about this very project in addition to several others I was contemplating and working on. I was spinning a lot of plates, juggling two pen names in diametrically opposed genres, alongside a new release, a new novel underway, and multiple short stories. We were trying to figure out how I could basically stop time and do everything, which obviously isn’t possible. But she said something that stuck with me.
“Your creativity is galactic.”
I wrote that down. I posted it next to my desk. I thought about it, a lot. I took it as a compliment, even though it was said in a frame of “Slow down. Take a breath. You can’t do everything, nor should you. Your creativity is galactic. But...”
It’s been a great thought to meditate on, and I decided I wanted it front and center. It is both a reminder that I can’t do everything and that nothing is holding me back but me. It defines me in many ways, defines my writing life. I love what I do, and I want to do it with joy and excitement and gratitude. I have a hundred stories to tell, and good storytelling— capturing the essence on the page, turning it into a novel that readers will enjoy—that’s marathon-level work. It isn’t a sprint. It takes regular deep work on a daily basis to accrue the words. Day after day.
What she was telling me is: There’s time. It’s not like the galaxy was created overnight.
But it didn’t feel right as the name of a writing book. A personal ethos, yes. But for the project, I am moving forward with a different title.
And it’s available now on Substack. I’m going to be working on all aspects of the writing life, non-fiction essays as well as some early look at my fiction—that last will be for paid subscribers only. I’m also doing audio posts for the sight-impaired, so if you’d rather listen, you can do so there.
Fun times, friends! I hope you’ll give it a go!
