I am Very Loud (BEDS 010)

I do not know what an inside voice is. When I raise my voice, I don't even know that I'm doing it. I'm not mad or irritated, just...excited.

I mean, don't get me wrong--I do complain about things. A lot. And when I get worked up, I get really, really loud. But I also get loud when I get excited about something--when my favourite TV show comes back, for example, or when the book I just read is exceptionally devastating. When I find an interest, a cause, literally anything that holds my interest for more than two seconds...I get excited.

And when I get excited, I get...well, loud. It's a thing. It happens.

It's something about myself that I never really noticed, to be honest, until the last couple years. People started commenting on it--not negatively, per say. Just pointing it out. It's not really something I can change, either, because it's not something that I realize I'm doing. I mean, I probably could change it, if I tried hard enough. If I really wanted to.

But I don't really want to.

I get loud when I get excited, and it just so happens that I get excited a lot. I consider myself a very passionate person, and one of the ways I express my passion for something is by talking a lot about it. I discuss, I ramble, I gush, I fangirl...loudly. It's not always the most appropriate way to express myself, but...¯\_(ツ)_/¯. It is what it is.

It's funny to think about sometimes, because I used to be--and in some cases, still am--very quiet. I'll sit on the sidelines of a conversation and observe. I'll sit in the back of the class and take in the discussion without participating. I'm shy and reserved...until the topic of Disney comes up, because then I'm loud and obnoxious and probably unbearable.

I'm...complicated. But I'm cool with that.


Until later,

- Justyne

You Do You, Boo (A Discussion About Internal Motivation)

Last year, I did a small series of blog posts in which I discussed the variety of ways to motivate yourself externally. It was a nice little series. I enjoyed writing it. But what happens when all those frills stop working?

Remember....who....you are....

(Inserting gifs in here because it's 2016 and that's the Thing To Do.)

The most common advice I hear from anyone, in terms of work and career, is to do what you love. A no-brainer, right? It would seem so; hell, I preach that advice every day. But what happens when you don't even know what that means anymore? What happens when you sit down one day, doing The Thing You Love, only to start thinking that you maybe don't love it as much as you thought?

You have a freak out, for starters. You start to panic a bit. You start to question whether you're on the right path, whether this thing truly is The Thing You Love. Then you bury your troubles under hours and hours of Sims and try not to think about it.

(Not like I would know or anything....)

What makes something The Thing You Love? What magical quality does it posess that allows it to turn from just a hobby into...more? It's not an easy thing to pinpoint, really, because there's not just one way for it to get to that point. We all live different lives, we all choose to put our passion in different things for different reasons. There's no road map to figure out what The Thing You Love should really be. 

All you can really do...is do you. You do you, boo!

I don't know when I started saying this. Probably as a joke, to be honest--something to say indifferently, as a go-ahead to a suggestion, when the process doesn't affect the outcome, or the outcome doesn't affect me at all. "Go for it--you do you, Boo."

Then, last month, a friend of mine uploaded a post on her own blog, and made reference to this saying that I've suddenly adopted as my own. All at once, I realized that this saying wasn't really a joke at all--it had become advice. Real advice. Good advice, that I had never really thought to follow.

I started writing when I was around nine. It's been a part of my life for a very long time, and for all that time I never struggled with my future life plans. I wanted to do this, I was working hard for it, and I knew I was good. (Most of the time, anyway.) I always knew what I wanted to do...until suddenly, I didn't. (Y'all already know that story; it eventually lead to the creation of this blog.)

I joke about procrastination a lot. I've always done it, but over time it's gotten worse. Shouldn't this be easy? Shouldn't I have enough passion to push myself out of whatever rut I find myself in and just do it?

It wasn't that I didn't want to. I did. It's that I was lacking the energy, the time, the motivation. Every time I felt that rush, that flurry of words that poured out of me, I grabbed it desperately. I didn't want to let it go, to drift back into the void of other people's stories, all of which were starting to do nothing but remind me that mine wasn't out there.

But every time, I let go. I had to, because of responsibilities and commitments and a zillion other things that I wanted nothing to do with. I started to resent my job because of it, because I felt that every moment not spent towards The Thing I Loved was just a waste of time. I threw every creative project that wouldn't bring me a step closer to publication under the rug. 

Eventually, I threw The Thing I Loved under the rug, too. I didn't think I could do it anymore--every time I sat down to start, I got too distracted with other things. I got too frustrated with the fact that I wasn't anywhere near where I wanted to be at this point in my life--and I felt like a failure.

I stopped blogging because of it--for months.

Here's something that not everybody tells you: you're not always going to love The Thing You Love. You're not always going to love your dream job. No matter what it is, there are going to be days when you want absolutely nothing to do with it. There are going to be days when you want to do literally anything else, anything to avoid The Thing You Love. But that doesn't mean you just give it up--it doesn't mean that you've lost it, it doesn't mean that you need to throw in the towel and start looking for another way to occupy your time. That's why I wrote those initial posts, why I spent so long focusing on external motivators--because in dire times, they can save your ass. You need every ounce of inspiration you can muster.

But if you don't have the internal motivation to back it up, you're not going to get very far.

I don't know much, but this is what I do know: I love creating things. I love telling stories. I love pouring my heart and soul into something, and turning it into an experience for someone else. I love that. I always will, even sometimes I wish I could skip the hard part and skip straight to holding the finished product in my hands. The passion remains, through all the procrastination.

All you have to do is start. That's how you figure it out. You push past the hard bit, you grab hold of every ounce of motivation you can, and you use it to fuel the launch.

Because once you reach the stars, there's nothing holding you back.

You do you, guys.

- Justyne

When I Grow Up

When I was little--like six or seven--I wanted to be an artist. While that sounds very broad, I had a specific idea in my head. To seven-year-old me, being an artist meant drawing and making crafts. Do you remember the show Art Attack? Think of the guy who hosted that--he was my inspiration.

That idea was short-lived, though, because one day I came to the realization that I actually wasn't very good at art, period. Which, when you stop to think about it, is a very bleak thing for a seven-year-old to realize. Nevertheless, I gave up my childhood dream of being an artist, and decided that I would have to pick something else--which I did. A couple years later, I discovered my love of writing and storytelling, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Except it really isn't. At least, not the whole history.

Around the time I started high school, I started to re-develop my interest in visual arts. I took inspiration from Japanese comics and from video games and Disney movies. I filled up one sketchbook, then two, then three. I started developping comic concepts and ideas and, suddenly, all of my stories started to take on a visual form. Soon enough, my writing fell to the backburner as I dedicated my time to this new craft.

I didn't doubt my writing. Surprisingly, that's the one thing about my self that I've always been confident about. I just saw a new world that I had never properly explored, a new skill that needed practice and development. I saw a whole new world of stories that I could create and express better through pictures than I could through words alone.

I was still confident about my skills as a writer, sure, but what of my future? Could I do both? Could I write my novels, while creating comics at the same time? Could I make equal content on both sides, or would I have to choose? Already it was looking like I would--I was already struggling to juggle both of them.

And still, my eyes drifted. I noticed the up-and-coming YouTubers, with their vlogs and mini series and comedy sketches. My initial university searches had me looking at film programs, because God, wouldn't that be cool? I started seeing animation in a whole new light; I developed an appreciation for it, and admired people who taught themselves and learned the craft completely on their own.

All at once, I didn't just have one dream, one fantasy of being a novelist; I had dozens. I pictured myself at Disney's studios, slaving away at their next feature film. I pictured myself making YouTube videos, filming and editing them, all by myself. I want to write short stories, collections of micro fiction, children's books. I want to make web comics nad graphic novels and try my hand at writing a movie script. I want to do all of it, and more.

When people ask me what I want to do with my life--or "what I want to be when I grow up"--my answer is, automatically, to write. That's not a lie--I do want to write. But I want to do more than that, too.

I don't just want to write--I want to tell stories, in any media I can. I want to create stuff, all day long, for the rest of my life. I don't want to be defined by just oen thing, one skillset. I want to be able to make all sorts of things, and let my stories reach all sorts of people.

Seven-year-old me had it right all along--I want to be an artist.

For so long, I struggled to find My Thing. I tried to narrow my life down, to find that one skill or passion that I could follow for the rest of my life. But you can't narrow your life down to just one thing. There will always be other shiney hobbies and skills and worlds calling out to you, begging to be explored. That's what I'm doing now; I'm making the things I want to make, right now, in any way I can.

Because that is what I want to be when I grow up.


Until later,

- Justyne

Letters to Myself - 17 (BEDS #18)

Apologies for being absent the last few days--I got sick and haven't been feeling well. Now that I'm back, though, the challenge continues!

~~

Dear 17-year-old self,

I wish I could tell you not to take English. I wish I could tell you to focus on something, anything else. I wish I could tell you that the misery that ensued from enrolling in that program was not worth it...but it was.

You met a really, really awesome person from taking that class. You met lots of really, really awesome people from attending university completely. So yes, the class sucks, and yes, you may hate it. But even so, I do not regret it one bit. If I had not taken that class, I would not have been at that school, and that year remains one of my favourites. That place remains one of my favourites.

Instead, I will tell you this: don't stress over your future.

You might panic, sometimes. You might feel like you're lost, and have no idea where you're supposed to be headed. You might feel like you have no idea what you're supposed to do with the rest of your life.

I'm here to slap you upside the head (figuratively speaking), because you do know these things. You've known them since you were nine years old--why should they change now that you're reaching "adulthood"?

(Speaking of which, I feel like I should mention that, at least by age 20, you will never feel like an adult. By age 20, you will feel more like a five year old than you did when you were actually five years old. I have embraced it, and you should, too.)

My point is, you know where your passion lies. Don't doubt it. Whenever you feel stressed or worried about the future, take a breath and start writing.

Lord knows how much we would have gotten done if we had.

Love,

20-year-old Justyne

An Epiphany of Sorts

Stop checking your calendars, I realize that it's not Friday. Consider this a bonus post for not forming an angry mob and chasing me away from the internet yet. I appreciate you for putting up with my lack of blogging skills.

So buckle up, readers. This post is gonna be long.

I've been in sort of a slump lately. And by "lately," I really mean the last two or three years or so.

I've been writing less. I've been stressing lots. About The Future (dun dun dun), mostly. I realize I'm only in my first year of university, but I just haven't figured out what I want to do with my life yet. (And before you mention writing, just calm your hormones for a second. I'll get to that shortly.) Nothing in university has really caught my attention thus far. Every time I think I've figured it out--English teacher, copy editor, homeless hobo in a magical flying cardboard box--I go and change my mind. (Although I'm still hoping that magical cardboard box thing will work out, that would be pretty freaking awesome.) 

I'm also frustrated. Very frustrated. Mostly with myself.

I had a lengthy conversation with my dad on the phone last night, mostly talking about The Future (dun dun dun). The main topic of discussion was whether or not I should take the year off from university next year (see the reasons above). His main concern was that I would end up playing Sims all the time, instead of doing something productive.

I'm not saying that this isn't true. In fact, this is probably the most likely of any scenario I could possibly come up with.

But that's what really frustrates me.

When did I get so lazy? Seriously! I've always procrastinated, but never this bad. I used to write literally all the time. I used to do productive things in my free time--something that often seems like a foreign concept to me now. When did all of this change?

So I started thinking. I've spent most of today thinking, to be honest. I thought back to when I spent all of my time writing. I thought about how it felt to write--how I felt then, and how I feel now in comparison, when I'm hardly writing at all.

I still love writing. That much hasn't changed. I love writing as much as I did when I was nine years old and first started putting words to paper.

But that's not the real issue here.

So I thought about what's different. I thought about when it changed--when I stopped writing so much, and, most importantly, I thought about why.

Because that, my dear readers, is the million dollar question.

So after all these hours of thinking--in the shower, in my bed, on the couch while watching television--I think I've figured it out. My problem, you see, is that I've been thinking too "realistically."

And that is a problem that can apply to everybody--not just writers.

I was confident when I was a kid. I thought that there was nothing that I couldn't do. I was so sure that I would be published before I even graduated high school; that I would become a famous author, that everyone would read and love my writing. I was so sure that everything would work out.

I lost sight of that. I started doubting myself. I started doubting my abilities as a writer. I got too caught up in the money aspect:

"Writing isn't the easiest industry to enter." 

"You can't make a living off of it right away." 

"You need a back-up plan."

I'm not saying that these things aren't true. What I'm saying is that I got so caught up in these things--in my so-called "back-up plan"--that it became my only plan. I forgot about writing altogether.

I don't want that.

This is why I've been in a slump--why I keep changing my mind, flipping directions, unsure of every little decision I make.

Newsflash: no industry is easy to enter. No job is easy to get. There is no career on this planet in which you can walk on up and say, "I want this job" and the employer replies with, "lol okay."

It just doesn't work that way. There's work involved. There are degrees to earn, resumes to build, experience to...well, experience.

Writing is the same way.

A back-up plan is just that--a back-up plan. Something you turn to when your original plan doesn't work out. My problem is that I was so consumed with my back-up plan--with the negative "what-if's"--that I lost sight of what I truly wanted. I've been focusing all of my time and money and worries into a career that my heart's just not in. I gave up on writing; written it off as impossible before I even gave it a chance.

I can't even begin to describe how wrong that is.

I am capable. I've written a 50k+ novel in 30 days. I spent months writing a 200+ page novel when I was in the 8th grade. I had an entire freaking book series planned out when I was 9 years old. People enjoy reading my work, and I enjoy writing it. That is what truly matters.

I need to take back that confidence I had when I was a kid. I need to re-focus my attention on what I want--what I've always wanted. I need to believe that I can do this--because I can. I know I can.

And so can you.

Who knows, maybe I'm just delusional. Maybe it's the optimist in me. But no matter what I end up doing next year--taking a year off and staying at home, travelling the world, becoming a homeless hobo with a magical box (seriously, though, somebody hook me up with that)--I'll be writing. I'll be doing what I love.

So to all of you high school students out there, being pressured to choose what you want to do for the rest of your life--don't worry about it. Take your time. University will always be there, if you need it. Focus on what you love.

Because here's the secret: if you love your work, it doesn't seem like work. My dad taught me that.

(Actually, no, I knew that way before he told me on the phone last night. But he tried, I'll give him that.)

The future doesn't seem so scary now, does it?

Maybe this will inspire you. Maybe it won't. But if you only take one thing away from this post, let it be this:

It should never be, "What if I can't?" It should always, always be, "I can. And I will."

Thanks for your time, guys.

Until later,

- Justyne