Discomfort is Self-Care for Writers
Or Why You Might Want to Shuffle Off to Buffalo with Me Next Fall
Discomfort is Self-Care for Writers
Dear Writers,
I changed the name of this newsletter without even asking you. Bad Melissa. It’s now called StoryCellar, still with the same news and opportunities you’re used to, but with some upcoming author/journalist interviews and guest post features in upcoming months.
First of all, a shout-out to my former writing student and current colleague Diane Gottlieb; the anthology she edited—Awakenings: Stories of Bodies & Consciousness—just won the 2024 IndieReader Discovery Award!
And now, please sit back and make yourself uncomfortable. Because I’m convinced that when we, as writers, embrace discomfort, we open ourselves up to a wealth of storytelling material. Let me explain.
I am not a dancer. When I was 12, my stepmother chastised me in front of 20 other women in pastel leggings and leotards for failing to learn the choreography in her aerobics classes, and I internalized the idea that I have no rhythm or grace. But in February, my daughter—who takes 12 dance classes a week—suggested I enroll in tap lessons at her studio.
I said yes for two reasons. First, I grew up watching my grandfather’s tap dancing in old MGM musicals including the Judy Garland vehicle Meet Me in St. Louis. He taught me to tap dance in my grandmother’s kitchen while wearing his bedroom slippers. I loved that man. Second, the tap teacher at the studio has long been one of my heroes—funny and sassy, smart and inspiring. I wanted to bask in her presence each week.
But people, I suffered. For five months, I crammed my runner’s spreading tootsies into tap shoes, pleading with my ankles to loosen up enough to flap-ball-change and shuffle off to Buffalo. The goal: a four-minute performance with a dozen other girls and women at the theater in front of hundreds of people while wearing the required costume: a turquoise satin and sequined pantsuit with a matching jacket.
Stretching backstage before the show, surrounded by gorgeous young dancers who’d perfected their pirouettes and backflips and hip-hop pops and locks, I thought I might die of fright. I’d practiced the choreography 200 times. I woke up with our tap song thumping in my head. I fell asleep practicing tap turns in my head.
I knew that beyond the theater curtain sat my friends and neighbors, my writing students, people who’d read my books, and I felt deeply uncomfortable. But I made myself step away from my discomfort and examine my middle-aged body bent over backstage in a toe touch, sweating buckets in the turquoise satin jacket I’d accidentally put on inside-out. And I laughed.
“If I remember the choreography on stage in front of three hundred people, it’s a personal essay,” I whispered, tearing off the jacket. “If I forget the choreography, well, that’s a different personal essay.”
Either way, the uncomfortable—and ultimately triumphant--experience sets me apart from other writers. It’ll entertain editors and readers, especially if I’m candid about what was at stake for me both physically and emotionally.
I’m intrigued by the juxtaposition of self-care and discomfort. For writers, might they be the same thing? We constantly put ourselves in situations that invite conflict . . . even fear. I think of my journalist friend Mary who reports from the frontlines of climate marches, my friend Miriam who digs deep into her darkest memories to pen incredible flash nonfiction, my author friend Tom who regularly invites both physical and emotional discomfort in his backcountry pursuit of newts and lizards and snakes.
There’s something to be said for self-care, for mani-pedis and gentle yoga classes and lavender body scrubs. But as I headed home after my tap dancing performance last Saturday with a throbbing headache and shrieking leg muscles, I felt as refreshed as if I’d just sat in a hot tub under the stars for an hour. I’d tried something scary. I had a blister on my heel and a rip in my satin jacket. Someone had stepped on my big toe during our chorus line, and the poor thing felt flattened.
Happily, the next morning, I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down to write a new story.
What I’m Publishing
After a decade of excuses, I’m thrilled to release a 13-lesson online course on “How to Write Personal Essays for Magazines and Newspapers.” It’s thirteen short videos and handouts packed with book recommendations, short assignments, essay writing tips, and links to dozens of published personal essays by a diverse roster of writers.
For the month of July, I’m offering the entire course for just $60. After that, I need to raise the price significantly.
To access the first two lessons for free, go to this link: Personal Essay Writing Class — Melissa Hart . Click the lock symbol to the left of Chapter 2, Lesson 3. That will take you to this link: Melissa Hart
I’m also offering two one-lesson courses: the first is “How to Sell Personal Essays to Newspapers and Magazines,” and the other is “How to Use Personal Essays to Promote Your Books.”
And remember, subscribers to this newsletter get a different short writing/publishing lesson and handout for free, every month!
What I’m Publishing
Wow, I adored getting to interview this badass firefighter, Christy Behm, for this McCall Life article titled “Keeping Watch” about the people who staff firetowers in Idaho. She was a firetower lookout for a summer with her infant, and again the next year while she was pregnant and with a toddler.
I also loved learning all about Oregon’s accessibility features along the coast and inland while reporting on “Beaches for All: How the Oregon Coast Became Accessible to Everyone” for PRB+.
And if you missed it, here’s my short personal essay “What a Quail Taught Me about Grief by Joining a Flock of Turkeys” from the Los Angeles Times.
Where I’ll Be Soon
July 12, 2024—I’m teaching—yes, teaching—at the Oregon Country Fair, specifically on the Spoken Word stage. I’ll lead a writing exercise for kids and explain how and where they can start publishing their work.
August 29th-Sept. 1st, 2024—I’m thrilled to be partnering with Chanticleer Inn in Ashland, Oregon to teach a four-day workshop on personal essay writing. We’ll share writing and meals and a play at Oregon Shakespeare Festival . . . it’s going to be a lovely, inspiring long weekend full of new, exciting friendships and writing!
Want me to keynote and/or teach at your conference, school, library, or decades-old hippie fair? I’d be thrilled! See my website for information on what I teach or ask me to teach something else!
A Few Cool Resources for Writers
· What to Ask Your Beta Readers | Jane Friedman and How to Sort Through Beta Reader Feedback (substack.com) are both useful and thought-provoking articles on how best to navigate feedback from those lovely people who agree to read and critique your work.
· For all of you novelists who—like me—are playing the long game while working on a manuscript that will take several years, here’s a smart and inspiring essay by Emma Pattee titled “No, My Book isn’t Out Yet.”
· My MFA students and I have been talking about the power of “word sprints” to break through writers’ block and complete a rough draft. I’ve been sprinting twice a week at the local track to improve my fitness and running speed; writing sprints are basically the same practice. Pick a time or a distance (i.e., word count) and GO! Here’s a website to help you do just that: Word Sprints .
· Love books? Love bread? I discovered Hannah Giffin’s marvelous Substack “Good Book/Good Bread” a few weeks ago; the author and I have the same taste in books, and I want to bake all the breads she’s paired with her favorite titles in this newsletter
Conferences, Residencies, Fellowships, & Calls for Submissions
· My agent once suggested gently that I never write a sex scene again after a failed attempt in a YA fiction manuscript. If you’re better at the sexy stuff than I am, check out the digital class “Hot and Heavy: Writing Love and Sex Poems that Will Actually Get Published and Have Readers Begging for More” from The Forever Workshop.
· Check out the Diverse Writers $500 grant and Diverse Worlds $500 grant from the Speculative Writers Workshop; deadline is July 31st.
· The Nonfiction Authors Association is looking for speakers to teach online workshops; their founder, Stephanie Chandler, is brilliant. Teaching for NFAA gives you a ton of visibility, as well!
· The Killer Nashville Writers Conference is coming up; I’ve heard such good things about this event devoted to crime and thriller literature. There’s still time to register here.
· My Oregon colleagues, don’t forget to apply for an Oregon Literary Fellowship. The deadline is August 2, 2024.
· I’m just finishing up an article on the “sandwich generation” as it pertains to family members caring for others with Down syndrome for Dame Magazine. I adore this feminist publication. Here are their most recent submission guidelines.
Okay, that’s all for now. Let me know if you want me to include any writing resources in my August issue, and I’ll do so!
Much gratitude,
Melissa
P.S. This is a photo of me and my husband Jonathan on Black Butte in Central Oregon. It’s the first mountain we’re hiking up this summer as part of the Six Pack of Peaks!
Always love your spin on life, just what i needed this morning as I'm rehabbing hip replacement. But I gotta tell you it's hell on my long game!
Melissa! Thanks so much for the shout out! I always love your newsletters, so being included in this one--with a picture!--is a great honor!!! XO