J. D. Edwin

The recent addition to my list of creative self-help books is Finding Flow by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (try saying that 3 times fast).

Flow is a concept I’ve heard of in the creative community but never quite understood. The book explores the concept of “flow,” where you’re completely absorbed in what you’re doing, leading to a deep sense of satisfaction.

Csikszentmihalyi, a well-known psychologist, breaks down complex ideas into easy-to-understand language. He shares real-life stories to show how anyone can experience this state of flow by engaging in activities that challenge them in a positive way.

The best thing about Finding Flow, at least for me, is the book’s practicality. The author gives advice on how to integrate flow into everyday life, whether through work, relationships, or creative pursuits. It’s a guide for anyone looking to add more meaning and fulfillment to their daily experiences, which I can’t imagine any of us aren’t trying to do.

Finding Flow is a great read for both those interested in psychology and anyone simply seeking a more satisfying life. Csikszentmihalyi’s engaging writing style and relatable examples make it a valuable resource for personal growth and reflection. It is an absolutely worthy read.

Even if you do trip over the author’s name a few times.

I have a tendency to rush.

This is actually an understatement. If you said that to my closest friends, they’d laugh and say you have no idea. I can make a new hobby into a routine then into a stressor in the blink of an eye.

When I first learned to crochet, I completed 20 projects in the first 3 weeks. Last year I tried dabbling in painting again after a break of several years, and before I knew it, my dining room was filled with paintings. I don’t do things by halves, and I don’t slow down. So it’s probably no one’s surprise that when I burn out, I also burn out hard.

For me, Slow by Brooke McAlary came at just the right time. The book is part memoir and part practical, providing insight into the benefits of slowing down and how to do it. It is not about simply living slow everyday, but to know when to speed up and when to slow down. Not everything has to be done at breakneck speed, and more isn’t always better. The ebbs and flows of life are natural, and identifying what is important and deserving of your attention is far healthier than charging at things full speed indiscriminately.

Truly slowing down, however, is more difficult than I expected. There are days when I’m able to stop, reflect, and approach the tasks in front of me with intention, and then there are days when I’m flailing about like a cartoon with six arms, trying to do everything at once without pausing to eat or breathe. I count it as a win, however, that the frantic days are fewer in number than a year prior. Even slowing down is a, well, slow process.

Slow is a short and easy read. I’ve recommended it to several friends already. Anyone can benefit from a dose of slow and intentional in my opinion. And if you find yourself going a little too fast, take a breath, sit somewhere comfortable, and read Slow.

I started this year with a plan – I was going to finish the first book in my cozy fantasy series (Love, Death, and Other Things I’m Bad At), start working on query letters with my old publishing team’s help, draft book 2, and try to keep up with other creative projects on the side if I had the time.

And of course, keep working my day job and keep my children alive, as expected.

Well, tell the universe your plans and watch it laugh, right? In February I unexpected began my querying process early when the opportunity to pitch to literary agents live presented itself. Instead of concentrating on book 2, I found myself attending live events and sitting in pitch meetings.

Then April started with a bang when the company I’ve been working at for the last 3 and a half years was acquired. What this means remains to be seen, but the future is suddenly a little murkier than before.

Finally, I found my way back to painting and through a series of unexpected events, my paintings are now on display for sale in a lovely little art studio.

And so I find myself entering the second quarter of the year with completely different plans than I started out with. I have no idea what the rest of this year will look like, but there’s also a twinge of excitement in change and unpredictability. So cheers to spring and all the new beginnings.

We’re at it again!

If you’ve been around for a while, you might remember my friend Dr. Deborah Lukovich. Deborah and I have collaborated numerous times in the past and in fact, I am in the process of beta-reading her memoir as we speak. This past week, I had the opportunity to speak on her podcast Dose of Depth for the third time and we discussed the undeniable presence of vulnerability in the life of a creative:

If you responded to my newsletter regarding vulnerability, you might hear me reference your email in the podcast.

I had a completely different post planned, but something else struck me unexpectedly this week – one of the greatest names in the Japanese manga community, Akira Torikyama, has passed away.

Even if you didn’t know his name, you probably knew his work. He was most well-known for creating the Dragon Ball series, a piece of work that helped shape modern storytelling.

I actually grew up on the lesser-known works of Toriyama, particularly Dr. Slump, which accompanied me through most of my childhood. Toriyama was an admitted “pantser” when it came to his stories, having mentioned more than once that he rarely plans more than a chapter ahead. This explains why Dragon Ball, his most famous work, is a chaotic mess in terms of consistency and backstories, but at the same time, he free-wheeling approach to character development and worldbuilding injected endless fun into his stories and always left readers coming back for more.

Toriyama passed without completing his latest Dragon Ball series. As a life-long fan, I know there are many like me who will miss his presence and hope his work can be carried on.

Two things got me thinking about the vulnerability of being a creative recently. One was getting the chance to reconnect with a friend and fellow author, Dr. Deborah Lukovich, this past week, when we talked candidly, among other things, about how shame and vulnerability relates to the creative life. The other was reading the popular book Daring Greatly, by Brene Brown.

You see, being a creative is in itself a vulnerable act. 

You must first have the courage to admit to yourself that you want to create, then have the bravery to actually bring it to fruition. Finally, the shamelessness to put it out into the world, where you might be ridiculed, judged, questioned, and/or being told “so-and-so already did that”.

I am grateful for the uncertainty.

Because uncertainty and the chance to be vulnerable are privileges. We can’t predict how our creativity will manifest, and without embracing uncertainty, the alternative is to not create at all, and that is never an option.

So I take a moment to appreciate uncertainty, and go on creating.

Are you familiar with Comic Sans? 

The font has been a subject of both admiration and disdain. Created in 1994, it has sparked endless debates in design circles and beyond. Loved by some for its playful charm and readability, loathed by others for its overuse and perceived lack of professionalism, Comic Sans occupies a unique place in the typographic landscape.

Most of us know Comic Sans as the font of memes.

And perhaps it is this association with silly pop culture that makes it hard for us to take Comic Sans seriously. Can you imagine writing a book in Comic Sans? Ridiculous!

But not so fast. After struggling to gain momentum on a new book recently, I tried the unimaginable – writing in Comic Sans. The result was miraculous. Its silly, easy-going appearance removed a significant amount of stress from the drafting process. Have you heard the saying “a first draft only needs to exist”? When written in Comic Sans, it’s hard to take anything I write seriously aside from getting it on digital paper:

I have to say, there’s something to be said for writing a book in a font that looks like an eight year old’s diary. As writers, we take ourselves too seriously. I would say I feel silly using it, but I also wrote 25,000 words in 12 days with minimal effort, so you tell me what’s silly or not. For professionalism, Comic Sans rates -1, but for ease of use, I give it 9/10 highly recommend.

Almost every reader has that one book that starts off the new year for them. That book that sets a hopeful and positive tone for January 1. For me, the book for 2024 is I Didn’t Do the Thing Today, by Madelein Dore.

It might seem a little odd to start off the year with a book bearing such a name. But far from the laziness and slacker lifestyle the title seems to suggest, I Didn’t Do the Thing Today is actually a most positive and useful book on productivity and the truth behind what really gets things done.

When the pandemic began in 2020, I found myself, like many, inundated with worry and anxiety. To cope, I wrote. Then I wrote some more. I wrote 4 books in 3 years, a number of articles, plus many short stories. I eventually signed a publishing contract and taught classes on writing and productivity. It all sounds amazing on paper, when in truth I was running myself ragged trying to build my author career on top of a full time job and two young children. The to-do list was growing fast and even worse, I was the one adding to it nonstop. Finally, after a massive burnout, I found myself reevaluating how I went about my days, and it was during this time that I stumbled onto this book.

Unlike many other books on productivity, I Didn’t Do the Thing Today takes productivity off its pedestal and examines productivity guilt (which I was suffering a generous amount of) with a close eye. It calls out the unrealistic urge to plan flawless, perfect routines (something I was becoming quite obsessed with) and encourages the reader to embrace the ebb and flow that comes with each day as normal and natural. 

As I read this book, I felt myself relaxing, taking a deep breath, and re-examining my life and priorities. After a few frantic years of putting productivity ahead of everything, I was ready to reset. This year, I hope to live for joy and fulfillment instead of burying myself in an endless to-do list. If you are looking to do the same, pick up I Didn’t Do the Thing Today. I promise you won’t regret it.

Despite my best efforts to go to bed by 11pm, the fireworks kept me up quite late. So here’s to big cups of coffee to kick off 2024. Middle age is rough.

I used to be quite the stickler for New Year’s resolutions. I would make lists, pick theme words, try to buddy up with friends to stay on track, and make big speeches about what I was going to accomplish that year. But year after year, those expectations fell short, since life didn’t tend to lend it self to keeping up rigid year-long resolutions.

So I am taking a different approach this year. Perhaps it’s because I’m older and (hopefully) wiser as my 40th birthday approaches this year, but I feel like I’m looking at life a little differently.

This year will simply be about space – making more space for what matters, and less space for what does not. What matters in life might change from moment to moment, and rather forcing life to fit my resolutions, I intend to adjust and go with the flow for once. 2024 will be a year of flexibility, intentionality, and perfect imperfection. 

How are you approaching this new year? Lend me your wisdom.

Happy Holidays, dear readers!

This is the final newsletter of 2023. Seems a bit cliché to say what a long, strange journey it’s been, but that’s truly what it felt like to me. This year has held some of the highest highs and lowest lows I’ve ever experienced, and I wouldn’t change it one bit.

In this past week, I had the privilege to be interviewed by the very talented team behind the Writer Syndrome podcast (the episode releases today!). I got to talk about my writing and publishing endeavors over the last few years, which felt like the the perfect way to wrap up not only this year, but the whole adventure of writing and putting out my trilogy as well.

And speaking of my trilogy, Headspace has passed 200 ratings on Amazon! I couldn’t be prouder or more grateful for this milestone, and I have all of you to thank for it.

So as I close another year with you, dear readers, I hope your holidays be filled with warmth and abundance. And may 2024 bring new hope and joy in its wake.