BIG and OVERWHELMING

I'm finishing final edits to my memoir before resubmitting to publishers and agents. What a haul. It's like birthing a baby---but takes longer than nine months, I tell ya! It's easy to lose your perspective, to lose the point of it all. Is it worth it? How do we keep our perspective? It's hard to keep a commitment to a long term creative project when there is so much daily life that gets in the way.

Can you identify? Have you ever lost or almost lost the will to finish a creative project?

For me, in order to continue, it's about breaking it down into little chunks. Palatable bites, if you will:

The idea of publishing my book is too big. Who has time for that!? But finishing the latest edits on the first part....thats sorta doable. Making a list of current agents I'm interested in? Sure, I can do that. That actually sounds like fun! But it has to be in small bite size chunks or else forget about it.

That's probably true of anything in life.  Bite size chunks so you don't choke.

I would love it if you would share your successes/tricks to keeping committed to a long term creative project in the comments below.

Leap into the Chaos

I'm writing again. Sigh. Yes, finally back at the book.

And I'm in a difficult spot. My editor wants order and outlines and some form of chronology, and while I agree with her in some ways and realize its purpose, I need to trust my gut and write the book I want to write. The challenge is how to keep what I know but be open to what she suggests. There are things I don't know about this book, but there are just as many things that I do. So the only way I know to do this comes from my improv training: just jump and listen to myself.

I'm not gonna lie to you. It ain't easy. I waited four months out of fear to do it at all! It is overwhelming to literally throw your book up in the air and see where the pages land. Is a new order preferable and cleaner? Was the old way, my instinctual way...better? Is there a way to combine both?

It is chaotic and I was/am scared to jump into the chaos. I mean...it might not work(!) but what choice is there? I haven't done all this work writing this book to just leave it on my hard drive gathering dust. No. I need to jump into the chaos and see what clarity I can find once the dust settles.

Where in your life do you need to jump into the chaos? Where in your life will it benefit you to throw it all up in the air and see what lands where? Is it easy? Um, no. But necessary? Maybe...

I'll let you know what I discover.

Share your thoughts below. Would love to interact with you. Love this quote from my man Deepak:

Heads up!

So I was sitting at Starbucks last week working on editing my memoir when I started to text my friend Michael. We texted for probably fifteen minutes off and on about minutia and silliness, nothing important. I was just working and occasionally texting him. He lives nearby the Starbucks, so at one point, bored and searching for distraction, I invited him to join me at the coffee superpower.

He asked me if I just arrived there. I replied I hadn't, that in fact I had been sitting here for over two hours. Turns out, ten minutes prior, while he was texting me, he was at the very same Starbucks himself, ordering a drink right across from the table at which I was sitting. We were texting each other while standing less than ten feet from the other! How did neither of us ever look up? How did we miss the moment to observe surroundings and consequently each other? What a silly miss. We laughed it off, but it made me think. What else am I missing when I don't look up? When else am I buried in something when an opportunity for connection, the one I was actually seeking, is right in front of me?

Food for thought: Look up.

Running Into Your Past...

As many of you know, I have worked a great deal with Iraqi refugees --  trying to create awareness and change for these millions of displaced people. While in New York, I have done this through working with The List Project, selling paintings and writing various articles, a play, a book with Veterans Book Project and most recently, a memoir.

After touring the play for 2 years and finishing the book, I have taken a bit of a step back from advocating for Iraqis. I needed a breath, some space. I made a move across the country. I'm even doing a Christmas show for Pete's sake!

But one day, after climbing up the 3000 stairs of the elevated Chicago "El" train platform, I make fleeting eye contact with a man. I smile and turn away to look at the train map of Chicago (...still being new here and all) when suddenly I sense the man next to me.

"Excuse me," he says in broken English. I recognize the accent. Come on, really Chicago?

He shows me a piece of paper with directions written on it in English and sure enough, Arabic.

"Chicago?" he asks, pointing to his paper. Still not super fluent in the Chicago public transportation system, I look at the map with him, locating the Chicago stop in Chicago, both of us strangers in a foreign land.

"Yes, 11 stops from here" I offer at last, trying desperately to remember my numbers in Arabic before realizing I only learned 1-10 anyways.

"OK," he responds. "Sorry. I speak Arabic. No so English. I Iraqi." Of course you are. What else would you be? I smile.

"Asaalam al-aikum" I greet him, grateful to remember the phrase.

"Ahhhh!" He is clearly happy to partially recognize his own language. "You? Arabic?" he asks, confused.

"I only speak a little. Shway-shway," I answer.

"Ahh, shway-shway. Little! Yes! Very good!"

Once onboard the train, I try to explain that I advocate for Iraqi refugees, that I do plays and books to tell stories like his. Forget about it! Neither his English, nor my Arabic could help us through that attempted communication! He goes on to tell me that he and his wife and three children just settled in Chicago two months ago. They fled Iraq, spent a year in Lebanon until fleeing to Damascus for three years, waiting for resettlement.

"At end, Damascus very bad, no good, very bad," he adds with both hands gesturing no, as well. His face changes when he speaks of those years.

"But you are all safe?" I ask, needing to act out "safe" and let's be honest--- "you all". Why can I remember no other Arabic!?! What is the word for "you"!?

"Yes. Now. Ensh'Allah." There's one! Ensh'Allah, yes. Ensh'Allah: God-willing, they are now safe.

It's not easy, this transition to a new country, new city, new people, new culture, new language. It never is. Being a refugee has to be one of the hardest things there is --- especially one from Iraq, with all our prejudices and stereotypes in this country. I can see it on his face. But I also see the joy on his face meeting me...a possible friend, someone in some strange way familiar, or at least kind. I think it is no accident that I was to meet this man today. I think I needed it and I think he did too.

"Thank you," he says to me before he gets off at the 11th stop. "You very nice."

"Afwan," I respond. His eyebrows raise in recognition of my attempt at his language. "Yes! Afwan. You welcome. Very good!"

"Ma'asallama!" I shout out to him waving goodbye, now in full glory mode with my Arabic.

After I settled back in my seat, I smiled once again: my first Iraqi friend in Chicago; first of many, no doubt.

Finding Your Voice

I've been teaching a class lately called, "Finding your Voice, Writing Your Story". I've taught it in several cities across the U.S. I try to help writers do just that: find their voice and write their story. We all have a voice. We all have a story. Sometimes we have forgotten that fact or ignored it or have been shamed out of our voice or are afraid of what it means to write our story. (What if someone reads it!? What if they think differently about us?)

A friend of mine recently "lost" his voice -- couldn't talk for over a month. It made me think: What does it mean to lose our voice? What does it mean to find our voice? My friend hated not having his voice. He felt he had lost a part of himself. Indeed, he had! But many of us don't even recognize that we have also lost ours.

In one of my classes, a student referred to your writing voice as the "who of who you are". I love it. I love helping people find the "who of who they are" in improv, writing or in regular old life. And I think the "who of who you are" comes from writing from your gut, from all of you, not censoring, but allowing the truth of who you are to emerge and be present, to write as you think and speak, not as you think you should, to write you. 

That's your voice. That's your "who". You're not trying to write like anyone else. You are just being yourself -- the only "who" you can be.

Blogger Madisyn Taylor in Daily Om writes, "Everyone wants to be heard and know that they matter. Reading your story to others meets the human need to be heard. Writing your story helps validate your life. We all want to know that what we have to say matters."

Speak. Speak "who" you are.

Be the Expert

I've been writing a lot lately: edits of my book, new improv articles for policymic, posts for this blog, tweets. The list goes on and on. It's funny. In the last year, I have been primarily a writer. I have never been primarily a writer. I have always been an actor/writer/teacher or just an actor/teacher or just an actor, but never just a writer. Man, I write! And I seem to be writing a lot. I already know what my next 2 books will be about! I'm a writer!

12 years ago, somebody told me I wasn't a writer. They told me I was great on stage, but wasn't that strong of a writer. I believed them and gave up. Better I just act and let the writers write. Well, it turns out I can write. I just didn't have the skills, trust, tools, confidence, or fill in the blank.

Now I confidently call myself a writer. Writers write. That's how they are defined. I write, therefore I am a writer. So my question for you is: what skill/passion/desire do you want to call yourself, but are too afraid?

In improv, its called, be the expert. Say you are that person and you will take steps that make you more of that person. By declaring yourself to be that person, saying yes to it, you actually become it. It actually works because you think, speak and act from what that person would do and say. Try it. Be the expert...and in time you will be.

Write the Book

So I'm writing a memoir. Maybe you knew. It's about falling in love with an Iraqi refugee in the middle of war, revolution and an arranged marriage. Sigh.

Last year, I decided I was only going to write it if I found a publisher. I wrote sample chapters and a book proposal and decided that was enough. Let someone ask (read: pay) me to finish it.

I said as much to my friend Alec. He said bull. Finish the book. I said no! It's too much work. He said finish the book. I said but, but, I want an agent. I want a publisher. He said finish the book and then its yours and you have this thing and you did something instead of talking about it. Finish the book.

So I did. I finished the book. And you know what? He was right. Now I have this thing and I'm talking to agents and publishers and maybe something will happen that route or maybe I'll self-publish. But I have a book. I wrote a book.

What are you not finishing? What are you waiting for in your life? What are you not saying YES to? Saying YES always leads to something else. It always leads to what's next. It may not be perfect and may not be the answer, but it's something and it will lead you to something else. And saying YES to yourself is always good!

An acquaintance friend of mine fell out of touch two years back, but recently reached out to me. She apologized for her absence and explained it by disclosing she was diagnosed with a terminal illness. Terminal.

Life is indescribably short. Write the book.

Want to Write Your Story?

Interested in finding your voice, writing your story? Here's a way to start. Try to answer these questions as truthfully and detail-oriented as possible. Then see what doors or windows (or crawl spaces!) it opens for you. Jump! Tell your truth. Post one you'd like to share in the comments section below!

1.      “It all started when…”

2.      “If I could start over...”

3.      “The last time my whole family gathered for a holiday...”

4.      “This is what I learned from my mother...”

5.      “In our family…”

6.      “This is a story my father told me…”

7.    “If my name were_______. I could…”

8.    “Summers growing up, I would...”

 

Power of Truth... or Karen and the Frog

I recently taught a writing retreat. It was called "Finding Your Voice, Writing Your Story". I had no idea what to expect. Would people have stories? Be willing to find them? Be open to share them? Who knew!

There involves a great deal of bravery in story telling. You're telling your story! Sometimes that ain't easy. When was the last time you bared your soul to a group of virtual strangers, let alone a loved one?  But I believe there is value in this because:

a. maybe it's a good story that needs to be shared widely
b. maybe it helps others if you speak your truth
c. maybe it helps you to heal/recover/start again

That's been my experience in storytelling. I have written 2 plays and 2 books all based on my life. Yup! I write allllll about my life: the good, the bad and the ugly. Why? Because I can't imagine processing some of the events in my life without it. And I think there's power in a story well-told.

Mexican poet and author Rosario Castellanos said, “Writing has been a way of explaining to myself the things I do not understand” Can I hear a what-what? Agreed, Rosario. Agreed!

A woman in my retreat lost her daughter, Karen, about thirty years ago and to this day has yet to truly speak about it with her family, including her other living daughter. It seems they have all buried it under the proverbial family rug --- too painful, even after all these years. So in she comes in to my retreat and drops this story bomb. She then followed it up by saying that said she had no intention of writing about it. Hint, hint. But less than 36 hours later, she wrote a story about a frog who hung out in a garden with a beautiful girl named Karen. Bingo. She opened the vault. She started to write about her daughter. Brought me and our whole group to tears. More stories came. She was on a roll. By the end of the session, she was considering sharing her writing with her other daughter in hopes of opening up a conversation about their shared loss all those years ago. She told me the retreat changed her life.

This is the power of brave storytelling --- the power of writing your story and speaking your truth.

Everyone has a story. What's your story?