An Ode to HEA

May 17th, 2017. 

I've been a cast member at Walt Disney World for two weeks. A new fireworks show called Happily Ever After has just premiered in the Magic Kingdom, replacing the long-running and widely beloved Wishes. I park myself in front of the train station overlooking Main Street for two hours to get the perfect view.

I fall in love with this show the first time I watch it, and by the time it ends, I'm crying.

(This is the first time, but it won't be the last.)

August 2nd, 2017.

I finished my last shift yesterday, and I'm moving out of my apartment tomorrow. Without realizing, my entire summer has suddenly been reduced to three days. I'm not ready to say goodbye.

I slip onto Main Street minutes before the show starts, angling myself between toddler-stacked shoulders to get a decent view. Towards the end of the show, right before the iconic Tinker Bell fly-over, the build-up to the big finale, the narrator says his usual line: And now, our journey comes to an end. 

I've never given much thought to the phrasing before, but in this moment, reality hits, and I start crying.

(I frantically wipe my tears as I make a beeline for Tomorrowland down the guest overflow path.)

August 5th, 2017.

Tomorrow morning, a flight will leave Orlando at 8am, and I'll be on it. Even still, I stay at the parks straight past closing--one last hurrah before the magic comes to an end.

The show is delayed because of lightning. For a moment, I'm terrified I won't get to see it one last time. But the show goes on.

I cry, and then I hug my friends and I cry some more.

(I'll cry so many times tonight that I'll lose count.)

September 15th, 2019.

I'm no longer a cast member, but just a regular guest on a regular vacation. It's my second last day here, and a ticketed event has forced me to watch the show a day earlier than planned. I always cry during the show, but tonight I cry a little harder, for seemingly no reason at all.

I don't know it yet, but this will be my last trip before a global pandemic shutters the gates on my favourite place and strands me some 3,000 km away.

(I don't know it yet, but this will be my last time watching my favourite show.)

September 29th, 2021.

Today, Happily Ever After will go on one last time, making way for a brand-new, 50th anniversary spectacular. After tonight, my favourite show will close permanently, and I will not get a chance to say goodbye.

I know it's silly. It's just a pyrotechnics show, one I've seen so many times that I can recite the track by heart, can cue the fireworks as they appear. I've seen it a million times from a million different angles. But this show and I, we have history together, and I know I'm not the only one.

I've always been acutely aware of endings. When I know one is coming, I always turn back for one last look, try to memorize everything and the way it all feels. If this were any other year, I'd have already gotten on a plane. I'd have already crammed myself onto a crowded Main Street, would've already cried my eyes out, and that would've been my ending.

But as we all know, this is not any other year.

So, as silly as it is, I'm sad. I'm sad to see my favourite show go, sad that I didn't know the last time I watched it would be The Last Time, sad that I won't get to see it again and soak in every minute, to be in the moment and memorize it all. I'm sad I won't get to say goodbye the way I want to, the way I always thought I might.

So tonight, at 9pm eastern, I'll hit play on a YouTube video that I've already seen a hundred times. I'll wear my Minnie ears, and I'll say goodbye whatever way I can.

(And yes, I'll most certainly cry.)

August 5th, 2017. Me, post-fireworks.

And so, our journey comes to an end,

But yours continues on.

Grab hold of your dreams and make them come true,

For you are the key to unlocking your own magic.

Now go. Let your dreams guide you.

Reach out and find your...Happily Ever After.

Don't Write Every Day

I’m going to give you what I suspect is the most controversial piece of writing advice I will ever give:

Don’t write every day. (Or, perhaps more appropriately, you don’t have to write every day.) 

This goes against the vast majority of popular writing advice, which often advocates for schedules, discipline, and seeking out inspiration rather than waiting for it to come to you. Already I can hear the throngs of writers in their outrage: “You won’t finish anything if you don’t write every day!”  they cry. “If I only sat down to write when I was in the mood, I’d never get anything done!” 

But of course, these writers are missing two key points: 

1) The point of advice is to take what you need and leave the rest. (Ie: nobody is forcing you to take this advice if you don’t like it.)
2) Productivity is not the sole purpose of writing. 

So I maintain my stance: you don’t have to write every day. You don’t need a schedule. You don’t need a daily or weekly or monthly progress goal to meet. You are allowed to simply write whenever you feel like it, or jump from project to project, whether you’ve finished it or not.  

The key thing to remember is that writing is a choice, not a chore. And if it starts feeling like a chore, you need to pull back and let yourself choose when to start up again. You aren’t doing yourself any favours by forcing yourself to do it—just let it be fun. 

I get that this advice sits on top of a very slippery slope. Consistency is key to improvement and progress. And considering that many writers (myself included) dream of turning their craft into a career, a part of that will eventually mean incorporating a certain level of discipline into your writing routine.  

The problem is, at least when it comes to fiction, there is no secret job board, no 9-to-5 position we can just go out and apply for. Our writing starts on the side, during lunch breaks and on weekends. It doesn’t pay the bills, so in the meantime, we need to keep a day job. And a day job will inevitably decrease the amount of free time we have to spend on anything, including writing. 

Writing is not my day job. I have a different job—a full-time, 40-hour-a-week job. I want writing to be my job, but I don’t want writing to be my second job. I don’t want a second job at all. I put in my hours, I get my cheque. I don’t want to spend all my free time stressing about another chore, I want to spend time doing whatever I want. Sometimes, that may be writing. I may spend all evening writing. Other times, I may spend all evening playing video games, watching movies, or reading a book. Some people live for The Hustle; I am not one of those people. 

“Hobby” isn’t a bad word. You can let writing be a hobby, something you do when you’re in the mood. It doesn’t have to be a career that you’re actively pursuing all of the time. It can also be both—as your goals or life circumstances change, so too should your approach to writing. You should be changing your writing habits to fit your lifestyle, not the other way around. 

The fact that “write every day” is so prevalent as advice is the very reason I feel the need to advocate for the opposite. My goal is to be your validation, the voice to reaffirm that the way you’re doing things—so long as it works for you—is good enough. 

I don’t stress about writing every day. I set an alarm for a reminder, but if I’m busy, or tired, or just not in the mood, I’m not gonna worry about it. Will it take me longer to reach my ultimate goal? Yeah, obviously. But I’d rather take the extra time and enjoy myself than put myself under undue stress during the process. And if I can enjoy the process, isn’t that the better option? 

Say it with me, kids: writing is a choice, not a chore. Let yourself have some fun. 

Until later,

-Justyne