September 17, 2003
The Chronicles stopped last March for a couple of reasons; I felt I had nothing new to share, I was afraid to speak of some of the ugliness that was going on and my interest on chronicling had faded. Also, I didn’t want to be public anymore, I wanted my privacy back.
I spent the summer going through changes – personally and professional – and came out with a new sense of who I was as a person and a writer. The time-off from sharing, from wondering if what I was doing was useful, from speculation, was wonderful. It was a messy summer in some regards and completely beautiful in others.
Now I find myself at a new level with writing and creativity. No longer that of someone trying to break into the industry, of trying to get established, of trying to figure out if I really am a writer or not but instead I’m someone who, with so much work, determination and lots of tea, made a creative dream real. I’m now working on maintaining a creative career and lifestyle, of starting new projects and being in charge of my writing instead of at others whims. It feels really good to feel confident, and to feel like I’ve earned that confidence over a two-year journey.
With all the new changes and discoveries, I debated if I should once again share information. I didn’t want to do so unless I was sure that what I shared would be useful and new instead of the same old same old. I decided that because of all the changes, that it’s time to come back.
One of the reasons was some things I went through this summer I didn’t know were so common because no one ever talks about it – not even industry friends. I decided I am going to risk talking about things that are messy, scary and sometimes disturbing because I believe there is value to it. Like good things, they’re important because they’re part of the journey. If we all realise that they all happen, maybe we won’t be so scared when they hit us.
Oct. 09, 2002
The first review listed is from the LA Times, the second from the NY Times and right after that is my review, listed right along with the big guys.
Even though my review hasn’t been published anywhere yet, the fact that the it was liked enough to be listed beside top travel writers is enough for me at this point – it’s a start. It gets my name out there, it gets people to my site, it gets my articles read. That’s how it’s done, I’m finding, bit by bit.
I’m laying the foundation slowly, but surely as I begin to build my career as a travel writer. Now, if I can only muster up some energy to finish those other six articles.
March 19, 2002
It is raining like mad, the wind is howling through my flat and my feet haven’t been warm all day. But that doesn’t seem to matter because I’ve spent the morning working and just began to sink myself into SARK’s new book, Prosperity Pie.
I have to admit to being particularly giddy over page 194. Because on page 194, next to names and websites that I have long admired, is my little URL, sitting quietly there in the book.
A part of me feels like I need to start creating more right away to live up to having my url there, but another part of me can’t stop smiling at the discovery while trying to make the moment last forever.
Dec. 22, 2001
There will be no updates to the site, no day entries or portfolio’s launching until January. It will be quiet around here as I take time out and go away for the Holidays.
Before I do, I wanted to break from the regular “journal entries” and say a quick Thank You to each and every one of you. Yes, even you, the first time visitor.
In April 2001 I took a dream, some webspace, and a leap of faith and here I am. A writer that is surrounded by countless means of support, wonderful friends, and a dream that’s become a reality.
All your emails and your sharing of stories and experiences has affected me in ways you’ll never know. So from the bottom of my heart, I thank you for letting me feel so lucky.
If I could have one wish for you this holiday season, it would be that whatever is in your heart to do, you begin it. That any dream you have becomes a reality in 2002. Because it can.
Dec. 17, 2001
I’ve had in my mind, a huge project. A project that involved lots of work, effort and being brave.
It was to create a website that showcased other women who were on the same path as myself because I have received so many emails from people who have said how grateful they were to find someone else trying to find their way. I wanted to share with them that I’m not the only one out there – there is a lot of us out there.
About 5 months ago I created the domain name for it. I started to tinker around with creating the website. But nothing ever really got done – despite the fact I truly believed in this. No matter how much I talked about it or thought about it, nothing ever developed into something real. It always remained just an idea.
When I kicked my arse the other day, I finally got it all done. I realised I was holding back on beginning and finishing the project because I was so afraid of it failing, or people not wanting to participate in it, or the audience not wanting to see it. But the other day I just realised that if I can do it, I need to do it. I have to try, even if it fails.
I ended up working like mad for a couple of days creating the Visit the Site – Another Girl at Play!website, figuring out whom to contact and gathering email addresses. Once I had done that there was only one thing left to do – write a proposal, contact other people and invite them to participate.
To me, that was the scariest thing ever. It was one thing for me to just know about it and be OK with it, but it was a whole other bag to let others know about it.
But I did it. I wrote up the proposal and sent it off to people I thought would be perfect.
When I hit the “send” button and the email went on it’s way, I felt both excited and scared. Excited because I was finally doing something rather than just keeping it locked away in my mind and scared because I could get a lot of rejection. When something stays in your mind, only you can reject it and that’s a lot easier to control. Making it real takes courage, I know. You have to be able to get rejected and say, “Ok, that just didn’t work out. Next!”
So with that attitude, rather than sit and focus on that site and what could happen, I decided I had to just release it and let what happens with it happen. There were other projects I needed to work on and moving forward is always a good direction.
Then as I was working on other things, the emails started to come in. Slowly but surely, people were saying yes! People were telling me they were excited. People saying they’d love to participate and knew of someone else. A buzz started to happen and the fear started to slowly melt away.
Of course, there is still a lot of work to be done on the site, but it looks like it will happen.
Oct. 06, 2001
It came today.
After months of waiting, my first published article in a magazine arrived at my doorstop in a big manila envelope.
I had butterflies in my stomach and my toes were twitching. All I wanted to do was open it and look and it and feel proud but I was too scared, so I just held the package for a few moments first.
While I held it I started to criticise it. “What if it’s stupid?” “What if they picked an ugly picture of me?” “What if it’s changed completely?” “What if the magazine is lame?” “What if what if what if?” The more negative feelings I started to have, the more afraid I became of opening it.
Then I realised I didn’t write it to become afraid of it, so I tore that envelope open.
I turned to the first page and under “Columns” was me. Under “Writers” was me. And on the second page, the first column, was me. There was me on one whole page.
And underneath my (nice) picture, it said, “Writer Alex” It didn’t say, “wanna be writer.” It didn’t say, “part time writer.” It didn’t say “not very good writer,” but it said, “Writer.” Plain and simple.
Looking at my words and my picture in this magazine was one of the strangest, yet most exciting experiences I’ve ever had. The words that I had thought of and the message that I was trying to say, got out there. Not only that, it had really affected people as well.
Long before I got the magazine, other subscribers had. And they wrote me to tell me how much they appreciated what I said. My words meant something to them. My words got a few people off their arse. My words did more than just sit on the page – they came alive.
This experience, the first publishing experience, has been so completely amazing.
It didn’t make me rich, it didn’t give me the Nobel Prize, and it didn’t make me famous. All it did was make me feel proud. And you know, that’s really all that matters.
Elsewhere