Today marks the start of a multi-week series about author motivation. Welcome. Prepare to feel called out, defensive, laid bare, but ultimately revived. We’ll have ourselves a good old-fashioned hero’s journey.
Something made you want to be an independent author. The glorious thing about the newness of this industry is that there are no people in it who are only here by inertia or tradition. There’s no, “I’m an indie author because my father and grandfather were before me.” No “This indie press has been in my family for five generations, and now it’s my responsibility to take the mantle and keep the legacy alive.”
Something motivated you to do this in the first place, something that I believe to be pure, straight from the source, and a product of your having brushed up against your life’s true purpose, perhaps by accident. From that moment on, you were cursed lucky enough to recognize a passion, one you could do without the help of anyone else, that no one could keep you from, even if they wanted to.
Not everyone discovers a great passion, but you have. That’s excellent.
So, you began writing stories. It was pure fun for a while, then reality slapped you across the face.
I get it. I really do.
There are innumerable ways how this career and industry can do you wrong, how it can chew you up and spit you out, your soul shredded, little birdies flying circles around your head.
Spin the wheel to pick an unexpected obstacle! Maybe it’s lack of money, lack of support, too much outside responsibility, not enough time, health issues, technical issues, legal issues, social issues, a death in the family, an unexpected world war.
And still, that little voice inside you says, “But… I still want to write! I love it!”
Perhaps over the years you feel less and less justified in listening to this voice. “It’s not all about what you want,” you tell it, quoting something you were told repeatedly as a child. “It’s about what’s practical.”
Then you stop listening to that voice. You shush it at first, then one day you realize it’s been months since you heard from it. Totally unrelated, your life is falling apart and your mental health is spiraling. RANDOM.
Unfortunately, that small voice saying, “I want to write!” is your soul (whatever that word means to you). Whoops! Probably didn’t want to crush that into oblivion.
Don’t worry, though, because the soul can always return with enough coaxing, assurance, and respect, and keeping it silenced this is not an outcome I’ll allow any of you to accept. I’ll be your creative domme and make you call me “Daddy” if I must, but we’re not going down the road to soul murder.
Instead, I’m going to help you rediscover that motivation that made you want to write in the first place. That internal motivation is the arsenal of the soul or the “true self,” the army that fights back when the encroaching foes of the world act in opposition.
In the coming weeks, we’re going to redefine “practical.” Practical isn’t suppressing your creative urge. Practical isn’t staying in a job you hate because it makes you rich. Practical isn’t erasing your needs to keep the peace or please others. And yet, we all commit these atrocities against ourselves in the name of “practicality” from time to time.
As we discuss the 9 types of core motivations in the coming weeks, my hope is that you’ll see how each type brings a necessary piece to the puzzle of humanity and how living into our natural self and fanning the flames of our soul’s desire to write rather than snuffing them out is, in fact, the most practical approach to living.
If you don’t want to miss an installment of this series on motivation, be sure to whitelist contact@ffs.media by adding it as a contact. And if you know of someone who might enjoy this series (alternate motive: you’ll have someone to discuss it with), they can sign up to my list and skip the onboarding sequence by going to www.ffs.media/readnow.
Stay tuned, because next week, we’re going to talk more about internal and external motivation followed by the nine types of motivations that come together to create a healthy world.
Happy writing,
Claire