Where's Walden?

Watching the three-part Public Broadcasting Service documentary Henry David Thoreau, I am struck by the fact that in many ways I am searching for my own Walden Pond, in more ways than geographical. It is more about finding community, and seeking accountability, as my years here on Earth dwindle.

Cranberry Pond, western Massachusetts.

There is no way I am even remotely in the same league as Thoreau. I have not even read nearly enough (including Thoreau!), for one thing. It has taken me more than twice the years to make the same observations, and arrive at the same conclusions, as it took Thoreau. In one sense I am embarrassed by that, and on the other I am proud of myself for coming to such realizations at all, in an age of distraction, and of global consumerism of goods and services rather than ideas and other intangibles.

What has shaped my perceptions, goals, and ideals, has been a conglomeration of mentorship, alternative media that I stumbled upon, the persistence of movements like Black Lives Matter, social media accounts and podcasts coming from otherwise suppressed voices in the LGBTQ, neurodivergent, disabled, Indigenous, Black, Hispanic, and other communities, plus my own observations and experiences.

It is becoming apparent that while my wish list for the ideal place to live the remainder of my days is one with a mostly warm, sunny climate, high biodiversity, public transit, diverse demographics, a robust healthcare system, and affordable cost of living, I am forgetting the need for creative inspiration and accountability. What I should be seeking is a community, or communities, of individuals that will demand of me those practices that I have been resisting or neglecting: writing regularly, reading, and collaborating with others. It is high time I become a literary mentor now, not “just” a mentor in entomology.

My partner and I could probably be happy in an even smaller house than our current two-bedroom here in Leavenworth. The likes of Thoreau’s one-room cabin on the shores of Walden Pond may be a bit too challenging, but I found it comforting to learn that he had friends willing to sleep on the floor for extended visits. We’ve all grown to have expectations of guest accommodations that are all about physical comfort, if not luxury, when what we value most is the camaraderie.

Thoreau could walk into Concord at will, which I find ideal, enjoying the literal pedestrian life that I do. I never learned to ride a bicycle, and am generally terrified of driving, at least in circumstances of congestion at speed. I currently walk with relative regularity, on a nearly three-mile route, which to this day is not at all strenuous. It takes me through a park with ballfields that is frequented by birds, squirrels, and at least one Red Fox, along its periphery by a creek. There is a forested park adjacent to the ballfields, but it is being managed for additional active recreation (a new frisbee golf course is intruding into the woods). If I walk in the opposite direction, non-stop, I can be downtown in about forty minutes.

In other aspects of life here, there is a reasonably vibrant graphic artists community, and my partner is active in it. Nothing similar for literary arts, though, or it is flying well under the radar. Youth, and minorities, however you define them, are seldom encountered except as service workers, and in schools. This is overwhelmingly a town of military veterans, current and former prison employees, and retirees who presumably cannot afford to live elsewhere. Yes, I freely admit I may be too judgmental. We do have good local restaurants, and a handful of unique small businesses that everyone appreciates, regardless of our differences.

My partner grew up here in Leavenworth, Kansas, and her parents still live here, too. She quickly adjusted to life here, and I have some misgivings about asking her to leave again, to assimilate to a place where both of us may not have existing friends, or any kind of support system. Still, continuing to live where I feel that I do not have a support system is becoming increasingly intolerable. Not enough of the residents share our values, or at least don’t express them. When you expand to the state level, it gets even worse.

Where, then, is my Walden, my Concord, my Massachusetts, my New England of yore? Where can I explore and once again be filled with wonder and hope, and have the family that has been so elusive for my entire existence?

Firing Blanks, Comic Relief, and Other News

Writers sometimes get into a funk where they churn out bad product. That has been the case for me, recently, and I have aborted or discarded my most recent attempts. Meanwhile, I am still thinking, creating, and dealing with personal matters.

© Skyword.com

When the world is full of bad news and emotional stress, I find that I become annoyed more by the little things, and take out my frustrations on matters of little importance, like television commercials. Conversely, I can be too eager to put in my two cents on something like the Mueller report, for which I have little information to be making any assertions. So there you have two posts that you will not be seeing any time soon.

The "thought cud" I am chewing on now relates to how the structure of economies mirrors that of ecosystems, and those aspects that differ between the two. Also on my mind is the notion that there is no such thing as a naturally occurring pest. That has book potential, would help inch me out of typecasting as a "bug writer," and stimulate some serious conversations about how we treat other species and each other.

On a lighter note, I have registered for another stand-up comedy workshop, this one in Colorado Springs, this summer. It has been almost twenty years since I last tried this, in Tucson. The results can be seen on YouTube:

I now have enough new material that I can pick and choose what works and what does not, and now it will come down to arranging and polishing. Comedy demands excellence in writing, so it is a great exercise for me as a writer, too. I would rather not perform it, but it is worth remembering that if you do not perform your own material, then you are not finishing the job, and it might never see the light of day otherwise. Write for someone else, and you risk that something gets lost in translation.

Income tax preparation is still staring me in the face, too, complicated by the transfer of my late father's estate into my name, the many changes for the worse in the tax code, and a relatively dismal year in earnings. Filing extensions might be my best friend this year.

The greatest recent stress should be a great joy, but it gives me angst instead. We bought a house....in Leavenworth, Kansas. Not the "big house," but I still worry that it will seem like incarceration once we move there, probably in a year or two. My wife's parents live in Leavenworth, and we want to be closer to be able to see them happily into their golden years. This I am fine with. My in-laws are wonderful people. The other factor in our decision is that housing prices in Colorado Springs are increasing exponentially. There is no way that we could afford an upgrade out of our current townhouse in the....neglected, shall we say, part of town.

© Zillow.com
Our new and future house

Leavenworth is church, prisons, and fort, pretty much in that order. Churches form the social foundation of this small town. Prisons are responsible for whatever constitutes their tourist economy. Fort Leavenworth furnishes much of the population and drives the business sector. These are three aspects of life I do not like. Religion is a human institution fraught with the same problems as business and government. Prisons symbolize the mass incarceration of minorities. While I support our troops, I rarely agree with the missions they are deployed to, and almost never with military policy and the wasteful Department of Defense budget.

© Wikipedia.org
Downtown Leavenworth, Kansas

Talk about a sense of misplaced, I fear I would feel completely alone. My wife has spearheaded the house hunt and put in the majority of work in the whole transaction process. I admire and appreciate her resourcefulness and resolve. She is not dragging me kicking and screaming through this, but more like heaving a limp body, heavy with resignation that this is going to be his destiny, like it or not. Ideally, I would rather live in southern California, or maybe one of the Mid-Atlantic states. It isn't the beaches, it is the vibrancy of people, the off-the-scale creative communities that draw my dreams there. It is the progressive nature of politics, the vastly greater appreciation of the natural world.

Now? I just finished sorting insect specimens from Miami for the Yard Futures project. Next up is....Los Angeles. Ah, what might have been.

New Year's Resolutions and Revolutions

Anybody else likely to bid farewell to 2018 with a sentiment akin to "Don't let the door hit you in the arse on your way out?" Me, too. Personally, it has been something of an average year, but in terms of local, national, and global trends, it has been more like a horror movie with no end in sight. Time to reflect and plot ways to better handle stress and deal with our adversaries.

© Unearthedcomics.com and Sara Zimmerman

Is the Past the Past, or...?

Part of the problem entering 2019 is that there will not be a clean break from the problems of 2018. The federal government shutdown is likely to persist, for one thing. Closer to home, the housing development destined to go up on the land I want to see preserved as an open space, just up the street from us, will edge closer to reality. The stream where I found the only population of Filigree Skimmer dragonflies in the entire state of Colorado will be threatened by a Colorado Springs Utilities project to widen the waterway, sometime in late 2019 or maybe 2020. Developers will also press for conversion of the prairie around Jimmy Camp Creek Park and Corral Bluffs Open Space to housing and retail. Continued sprawl.

The portion of the U.S.-Mexico border wall that is already funded will begin construction (or demolition, more properly) beginning at the National Butterfly Center in Mission, Texas, effectively ceding over forty acres of this preserve to Mexico. Many a sleepless night will occur as I ponder whether to engage in direct action protests there if it comes to that.

Leftover Gratitudes

On a brighter note, I will be continuing to identify insect specimens under two contracts I have. I am exceptionally grateful for the work, and find it challenging and stimulating and gratifying in every sense of the word. I also have a new book out that I will be promoting every chance I get, hopefully benefiting entities larger than myself in the process. I have ideas for at least two more books, and need to get cracking on proposals for those that I can shop around to an agent or publishers.

Positively Coping

I have come to excel at procrastination and distraction, and need to correct that, channeling my fearful energies into brighter things. To that end I will take steps to get back to comedy. That may merely take the form of regular attendance at the local comedy club, actually participating in open-mic nights, or even starting a "comedy clinic" for aspiring comedians. Maybe I will start cartooning again, too. That may even be the first thing before the club scene. Point is, I love to laugh and, even better, make other people laugh. My spouse may be growing tired of my brand of humor, so it may be necessary to take it to another audience, just for the sake of our marriage.

Keep On Writin'

The one thing that I do manage to do with a fair degree of consistency is to write. That will not change. What I want to change is where I am writing. I need more eyes on my work. This is not as egotistical as it sounds. The more eyes the more people thinking, whether they agree with me or not. The more people offering sound and constructive criticism so I can better my writing. The more people inspired to share their stories, their ideas, their experiences. Society does not advance if we are silent. The most successful revolutions start by example, one person's resolution shared through in-person demonstration.

Maybe podcasts are in my future. Maybe guest spots on other people's podcasts. Maybe I should investigate the TED talks thing. The basic point is that I need to explore more, get out of my comfort zone. I need to exercise more. I have to quit making excuses and find a yoga class I can get to. Walk twice a day instead of once a day as I am doing currently. Learn to cook something besides a frozen dinner. That reminds me, we have two bottles of wine, one untouched for a year. I keep forgetting about that.

Writers Have a Right to Rant

© Pixabay.com

The best rants are written so well that they do not offend. At least, they do not give an impression of being self-serving, or even bitter. The best rants create an understanding where there was none before. Today, I hope to deliver just such an essay, about what life is like as a writer in the digital age.

First, traditional markets for non-fiction writers are ever dwindling. Magazines are disappearing, their circulation sliding as people turn more and more to online content. The magazines that still exist are relying less and less on freelancers, so there are even fewer prospective clients to approach. One of my favorite, and most dependable, clients was forced last year to limit freelance work to in-state authors only as a result of state congressional mandate (which applied to all government agencies hiring contractors).

Second, if you manage to land an assignment, the time lag between when you deliver and when you are compensated can vary from a few weeks to months, even years. You always aim, as a writer, for clients who "pay on acceptance." That means that once they receive and approve your article, they cut you a check. Many magazines, however, pay "on publication." Editorial calendars typically work several months or more in advance, so even if they love your piece, you will not be paid until it goes to press.

There is no guarantee that even if the editor agreed to entertain your piece, that it will ever see the light of day in the publication. New writers almost invariably have to write "on spec," short for speculation, until they can demonstrate to the editor that they provide quality content and meet deadlines consistently. Good publications will offer a "kill fee," a percentage of the contracted payment amount for the article, if for some reason they cannot use the completed assignment. Really good publications will pay a "finder's fee" for research you do that they want to keep on file and perhaps spread over several articles.

The continuing expectation of free content from yourself, dear reader, feeds into the collective devaluation of all forms of artistic expression, from photography to painting to literature to music....and that is when you are not stealing those images and passages to raise your own profit margin. Hear that, advertising agencies and corporate marketing departments? This is a rampant criminal enterprise flying under the radar. I, myself, have had my entire Bug Eric blog reproduced without my authorization.

Copyright infringement has become so obscene that many writers, photographers, and artists now devote more time to writing Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA) takedown notices to search engine and blog platform providers than they do to producing new material of their choosing. One author I know regularly files suit for infringement; but you have to register your work with the U.S. Copyright Office, at $35 a crack, to be eligible to file lawsuits. She now earns more from lawsuits than she does from new projects.

When you put all these factors together, writing presents itself as an occupation that is disrespected, pays little and rarely with any predictable frequency, and is subject to copyright infringement at any time. Consequently, we have mostly beleaguered, demoralized writers who mutter "what's the use?" to themselves every time they plop down behind their keyboards; and, not surprisingly, few new writers are emerging to take their place.

I don't know what we should expect from a culture and society that has devolved in its ability to spell words correctly, and arrange them in grammatically appropriate ways. That is, when we even use words. Every damn thing is an acronym anymore, with resulting confusion, misunderstanding, and inappropriate assumptions that serve only as fodder for "Damn You, Autocorrect!" Clear communication is vital to the sustainability and advancement of civilization. We devalue writers at our collective peril. They are not out to make a monetary fortune, but they deserve to make a living.

© Myriadeditions.com

How May I Direct Your Call(ing)?

My career could have used a switchboard operator long before now. Heck, maybe it had one and I am such a stubborn cuss that I refused to listen, insisting that she was giving me the wrong number and I already had the right one. Here I am now, well over fifty years old, and just beginning to achieve some clarity.

© Ironagetattoo.com

I grew up as an only child, believing I was destined to become an entomologist, or at least a naturalist. I went to college with that ambition, but by the end of my third year I was beginning to have my doubts. My fourth year I switched majors to "resource recreation management" (I swear that is what they called it), but then I ran out of both ambition and money. I do remember being disillusioned. I had taken up jogging, and one evening at the literal end of the road I gazed over at Mt. Hood in the setting sun and said out loud "How can you reduce that to a soil profile?" The abstraction called for by science was blasphemous to me.

Still, I pursued entomology, and even got some good jobs and great experiences out of it. They did not last, though, in part because I felt that others considered me a walking encyclopedia of insect knowledge and nothing more. Issues stemming from my parents' divorce when I was around eleven had been left largely unresolved, and I did not function well socially nor work (play) well with others. My identity was entomology and I did not know how to assert the fact that I have other facets to my person. I still have that trouble in many ways, making me prone to withdrawal in an effort to punish others for not seeing me as a whole person.

A few years ago I lost an online job that I know I would have been perfect for. The employer even said as much, but chose someone else because I had been volunteering as an entomology expert for the company that they saw as their chief competition. They did not bother asking if I would quit the volunteer gig....nothing. They didn't even call me to say they had selected someone else. I had to find out by e-mailing them. I was so incensed that I slammed my fist on my glass-topped desk and cut myself on its edge.

That was the big sign I should have heeded. I should have stopped pursuing all jobs "bugs" right then. Instead, I continued dialing wrong career numbers.

I thought this spring, with its ridiculously cold, wet weather was finally going to send me over the edge into insanity because I couldn't even find insects as a recreational pursuit, let alone to write about in my other blog. What I found was that I started writing more about other topics on this blog. Amazingly, I am enjoying it. I always have, but I never thought I had enough talent or experience or, mostly, knowledge of other subjects, to pull it off. I am beginning to think otherwise.

Just the other day I put up the following as a Facebook status:

"I am a writer, artist, social critic, husband, and sometimes activist. So, another gentle reminder that if you want the "bug guy," he is over at "Bug Eric" [another Facebook page]. If you want an entire human being, then please stay right here. Thank you. We now return you to your own identity crisis (or clarity)."

One respondent commented that he sensed I was trying to separate my identities on Facebook, and that he had tried that once without much success. "Good luck with that," he said. Well, he is right in one sense, but my motivations go far beyond social media. That post was mostly a self-affirmation, reminding myself that I am more than a career, deeper in character than most people realize, and that I should be proud of all that I am beyond entomology.

Would I trade all my previous successes and failures, hang-ups and busy signals? Of course not. What do I say about this blog? "Timing, on the other hand, is everything." I have to accept that the timing in this case may be this way for a reason I am not yet aware of. Some friends and colleagues and acquaintances will not want to progress with me on my journey from this point forward. That is nothing I have control over. I will never be able to turn my back completely on the wild kingdom of six- and eight-legged animals, nor will I ever turn down requests from people who want my help and are genuinely grateful for it. What is different is that I now know I must take a different fork in my occupation. Most roads we choose are already "well-traveled by," as Robert Frost put it in his classic poem; but, they have not been travelled by you. That, my friends, is what makes all the difference.

My Disdain for "Sense of Place" Explained

A couple weeks ago or so, one of my friends from the internet expressed concern over my disdain for the concept of "sense of place." He is doing dutiful, important work documenting the organisms of his home city on the east coast, and I sincerely admire him for that. He made a good point that I have not adequately explained the title of my entire blog, and so I offer you that in this post, along with a humble apology for not doing so a lot sooner.

The Missouri River at Leavenworth, Kansas

What I object to has nothing to do with any individual person who chooses to live in one particular place and develop a deep relationship with the land, its wildlife and plants, and human neighbors. We need more of that if you ask me, or at least more of the ideals that come from that sense of rootedness, and reverence for a place.

What galls me is the "sense of place" in the context of nature writing. There is an intolerable overemphasis in the literary community on the idea that you cannot write intelligently and responsibly about a place unless you have lived there a very l-o-o-o-ng time, preferably your entire life. This romanticism is baloney. It probably goes back all the way to Thoreau, or even farther. It was a reciprocal concept, too. The land gave inspiration to the writer, and the writer in turn fostered a greater appreciation of the landscape and its ecology. Some of our best contemporary writers still work off that very principal. Aldo Leopold and Wendell Berry in particular come to mind.

Me? I am a semi-nomad. I tolerated the rain of Oregon for my first twenty-seven years, in part because I had little choice. I moved to Cincinnati, Ohio for a job, and while that didn't last, I remained in the Queen City for a total of eleven years before moving to the rural town of Forsyth, Missouri for another job. The job lasted eight months, my stay about a year or so. From there it was off to Tucson, Arizona on pure whim. By the time I was finally making friends and getting to know the area, I met my now spouse and moved here to Colorado Springs to be with her.

Now, because I have lived so many places, does that mean I cannot write about any of them with any sense of familiarity or understanding? Hell, no. In fact, I would argue that you cannot readily write about any place without having another place to compare it to. Travel leads to better understanding of the last place you were. Immersion in a community is certainly recommended, but maybe that is difficult because of the very nature of the place. Tucson is not a welcoming city, for example. People are friendly enough, but mostly superficially. They already have their circle of friends and are not generally prone to expanding it. This is due in part to sheer demographics. There is the geriatric set, and then there is the collegiate set at the University of Arizona. There are also the "snow bird" retirees who migrate to avoid the cold winters of their native states. So, only a few people are "desert rats" who stay year-round, and those folks exist in small, close-knit circles.

I lived in the land of "Taneycomo" (Taney County, Missouri) for a very short time, and had there been sufficient job opportunities I might still be there. However, anyone with the slightest degree of observational skills could have reached the same conclusions about the region that I penned in Orion magazine. It is not that Forsyth and other towns there are "simple" or somehow less worthy of attention and appreciation. It is just the opposite, in fact. Easily overlooked, residents are rightly insulted by stereotypes, and tired of being dismissed.

So, nomadic I may be. I suspect I am less like Thoreau and more like John Steinbeck writing Travels With Charley, but on a much slower pace. It is not the place of anyone in the arts to tell another artist, especially a young one, how to approach their craft, or dictate to them what they can or cannot do. Limitations have no place here. The whole enterprise of art flourishes by the uniqueness of its participants. Write on your own terms, and don't be afraid to call out those who would bind you with expectations and rules (aside from grammar, anyway).

I will leave you with one last personal experience that illustrates how expectations of a new place can be colored by a familiar one. When I arrived in Cincinnati, I was encouraged to visit Mount Airy Forest, second only to my hometown of Portland's Forest Park as the nation's largest and mostly undeveloped city park. Well, in my experience of coniferous forests, I found very few insects and other animals in a forest. When I finally broke down and took a hike through Mount Airy Forest, I obviously found the deciduous woodlands to be far richer in diversity than dark, evergreen forests. Now I long to get back to those woods, or at least travel to them regularly.

How do you define "sense of place?" How do you reconcile your personal lifestyle with the public perception of your locale? Let me know, I am nothing if not open-minded on concepts like this. I would once again like to thank my friend for taking the initiative (and risk) in asking me for a proper story about this topic. Carry on, "Thomas of Baltimore."

Advice to Creative People

I could probably summarize my advice to other creative people in one sentence: "Get comfortable with yourself." What would be the fun in that, though? It takes awhile to grow into that mindset anyway, so here are some thoughts that might help you get there faster.

Value your works

Maybe the first thing you have to appreciate is that what you produce are "works": irreproducible images, passages, and other products of your personal vision, interpretation, and mind. Social media, and the digital age in general, has severely eroded the value that our society once assigned to the arts. Don't stand for that. Demand compensation, within reason of course, that reflects what you put into a given work. Recognize your worth as an artist and human being and don't back down from it.

Don't emulate anyone else

It is very easy to fall into the trap of believing that if you....followed the writing routine of Elmore Leonard, say, you would be much more productive and successful. Balderdash. Not everyone works the same way. A routine that is effective for one person is completely inappropriate for another. Seldom are even two consecutive days the same for my own writing style. If you are producing, then you are doing what works for you. Only if you fail completely to produce, over a long period, do you need to re-think your approach.

Make your art a priority

You do have to make your creative endeavors a priority in your life if you want to be successful. Still, recognize that on some days, even the best at their craft would sooner have a root canal than sit down at the desk, stand at the easel, or whatever. Just the same, remember that healthy eating, exercise, cultivating loving relationships with others, and personal education are also necessary for your productivity. A diversity of activities each day, or at least each week, is key to keeping energized and creative. I make it a point to take a brisk 30-minute walk every day, unless the weather poses a threat to my health.

The myth of the muse

One cannot rely on someone else, or something else for inspiration. "Write (draw, paint, etc) what you know" is a constant refrain from teachers and mentors, but there is good reason for that advice. It is a steady stream feeding your creative self, and it lends uniqueness to your voice. You must believe in your personal perspective, realm of experience, and style of expression. My personal desire to change public attitudes towards insects, spiders, and other "unlovable" creatures drives me daily. What I don't already know I learn; and I infuse my writing and photography with my personal enthusiasm and awe for the natural world.

There is no "writer's block"

If you are passionate about your work, there is no valve on creative flow. It is a constant torrent. What can happen is periodic lack of motivation and/or a lack of focus. Many of us are prone to distraction, maybe even have undiagnosed ADD. Committing to one project, be it an essay, novel, painting, or commissioned sculpture, may seem impossible at times because other projects or life events are clamoring for our attention. That is natural and afflicts everyone regardless of their occupation or career. Accept that this will happen, and take extra care of your physical and mental health when it does.

Don't compare yourself to others

Many times this will be a pitfall, something that consumes you when you are vulnerable to a sudden attack of an inferiority complex. Your measure of success must be your own. You may be prone to jealousy and envy, but most of us are. Use those emotions as motivation, not as an excuse to wallow or give up. Your uniqueness is all you have going for you. Celebrate it.

Get comfortable with turmoil

There is some truth to the "suffering artist" cliché. Passion often comes from personal experiences, circumstances, or world events and issues that you react viscerally to. Channel the rage, anger, hostility, or pain into something that moves others. Personally, I believe my greatest successes are when I express opinions and beliefs that are shared by others, but that those other people never dared broadcast out of fear. What would their friends think? How dare they say that! Be that kind of daredevil.

Don't apologize

This comes on the heels of being fearless. Do not be fearful of changing your mind or attitude when confronted by an opposing point of view that has merit; but don't apologize for expressing yourself in the moment, espousing your own personal interpretations (be they written, drawn, painted, sculpted, sung, etc) of your world. You are not responsible for how others receive your works. Your intent should never be to willfully hurt others, but you are going to cause wounds now and again and you have to accept that as part of the price of the creative process. Forgive yourself when that happens.

Don't live by someone else's standards

Did I say that already? Well, it bears repeating. Here is "A Cartoonist's Advice," by Bill Watterson, the man behind Calvin and Hobbes:

"Creating a life that reflects your values and satisfies your soul is a rare achievement. In a culture that relentlessly promotes avarice and excess as the good life, a person happy doing his own work is usually considered an eccentric, if not a subversive. Ambition is only understood if it’s to rise to the top of some imaginary ladder of success. Someone who takes an undemanding job because it affords him the time to pursue other interests and activities is considered a flake. A person who abandons a career in order to stay home and raise children is considered not to be living up to his potential — as if a job title and salary are the sole measure of human worth.

You’ll be told in a hundred ways, some subtle and some not, to keep climbing, and never be satisfied with where you are, who you are, and what you’re doing. There are a million ways to sell yourself out, and I guarantee you’ll hear about them.

To invent your own life’s meaning is not easy, but it’s still allowed, and I think you’ll be happier for the trouble."

Write your own rules

Whatever you may take from this blog post, there is greater value in what you decide is best for yourself. You will always be your own worst critic, but you have to also be your staunchest advocate. There is no one else capable to making you great. So, pin those self-affirming statements to the wall over your desk, to the frame of your easel, or mirror, or monitor. Experience joy. Make sacrifices. Accept occasional poverty (in the financial sense only). Think. Feel. Live. That is all that art is.

Success and Failure

Earlier this year I reached a decision that might be considered a failure, but my conclusion remains that it was for the best. We are collectively too self-critical, and what I want to do in this post is share how I have learned to re-frame experiences and recapture self-esteem and motivation.

The Project

Back in 2014, I signed a contract to write a field guide to U.S. spiders for an academic publisher. This sounded great at the time, but soon became overwhelming to me. I found it difficult to even begin outlining the book, and I suddenly felt inadequate in my knowledge and organizational skills. My editor was so "hands-off" as to be essentially absent, and I am not a self-motivated individual. I need deadlines. These and other reasons led me to cancel the contract.

I felt most disappointed for those who knew I had this project going and who were looking forward to my "slant" on the subject. I felt I had failed them, much more than failing myself. There is also the problem of paying back the advance. Fortunately, the publisher is being most generous with terms of re-payment. Meanwhile, I have been able to cultivate a couple new clients for smaller projects that are less daunting in scope.

Books I've had a hand in producing

Take Stock

One of the first things I did after this life-altering decision was to lay out all the other books I have had a hand (or at least a finger) in producing. I was surprised at the number, and I even forgot about one book to which I'd contributed an image; and another book to which I contributed a couple chapters but was so expensive I couldn't afford my own copy. This might seem like an exercise in egotism, but not so. It helped me to realize that I have a lot to be proud of already, and that successes can happen again.

Define "Failure"

Another thing I did was to ask myself "is this decision to terminate the contract really a failure?" My spouse might agree that it was, at least financially, but the stress relief alone was worth it to me. Recognizing my limits and my lack of motivation was actually something of a success, though I wish I had realized that sooner. Still, one does not always realize whether a project is a good fit or not until one is immersed in it. There are no "good guys" or "bad guys" in this scenario, just different methods of working. My editor at the university press is a nice man, we just did not have compatible approaches to the project. We parted ways amicably, and it appears I may have found him a much more qualified author to execute the project.

Moving On

Making up for lost income is always a great motivator, but given that my subject niche is so narrow, and markets for it evaporating almost weekly, I have to get really creative. I also have to be persistent, negotiable on payment, and dependable in delivering what I agree to. I may have to self-publish book-length projects from now on because traditional publishers are so reluctant to risk taking on new authors. Fortunately, thanks to advances in technology, and the evolution of social media and crowdfunding, self-publishing is now easier; and the quality of self-published books can equal or even exceed that of the big houses.

Don't Apologize

I advise against apologizing unnecessarily for decisions that might disappoint third parties. You do not owe anyone except yourself (and your family if you have one). You don't even owe friends and consumers an explanation. What you owe yourself is forgiveness, a positive outlook for the future, and a renewed commitment to your own personal goals. Set standards. Decide what you will and will not compromise on with your clients. Treat them fairly, but treat yourself fairly, too. Do not be afraid to say "no," especially if your instincts are sounding alarm bells. You have to protect yourself in a marketplace rife with thieves and immoral degenerates. Do your homework on clients before you approach them, if possible, to avoid the bad eggs.

End of Advice

Whatever your own occupation, vocation, or art, I hope you never feel like a failure. What really matters, of course, is our character. That is what governs all of your relationships, be they professional or personal. Strive to accept who you are, and better those "weaknesses." Some days you'll have setbacks, but how you interpret them determines your success tomorrow. Good luck.