Perfectionism is hindering you.

If you're anything like me and have high standards for your work, then you'll know just how hindering perfectionism can be. This is especially true in the creative process. When your head is crowded with imaginary critics that judge every word and line you write down, there is an overwhelming dread that if you don't get it right, your effort will go to waste. It should not surprise you when I say that this is 70 percent of the reason why publishing my story has taken this long. These are just the chapter level drafts __post__ -manuscript Draft 2.1. And let it be known there are like 3+ other versions of __The Golden Thread__ somewhere in my computer. I edited the Prologue so many times over that I overworked it to a point that it didn't sound good, and then I had to go back and re-edit from the previous "working, but rough" point. I'll be honest, I'll probably go back at some point further along the way and re-craft the sentences when I'm not struggling with so much brain fog. In the end, the best thing to do was just leave it. Writing an illustrated webnovel has been key for freeing me from some of that perfectionism. When I say there's prose and illustrations, it might seem like I'm giving myself more work, but hear me out: two things... 1. The fact there are few people doing this makes me feel like there are no rules I need to worry over. I can make up what an illustrated webnovel looks like for me. 2. With webcomics, the context switching that never fully switches and always hovers over a gray line, is like _death_ to me. Those panel lists are neverending–but you're also writing. I can't stand that (but those who can are my heroes). With an illustrated webnovel, there is a time for writing, there is a time for reading to analyze what can or should be illustrated, and there is a time for drawing. My brain needs to do one thing for a week, and then it can switch for another week. It's never boring and each of these tasks has a defined end point. > One of the most important things I've had to learn about perfectionism is that the strictness of your brain is subjective. People can't see or experience things as you do, because you have a very unique language, taste, and experience of the world. One of the most important things I've had to learn about perfectionism is that the strictness of your brain is subjective. People can't see or experience things as you do, because you have a very unique language, taste, and experience of the world. A correctly placed line, unless it has a functional purpose (like leading the eye) won't make your viewer's experience better. If you're writing something that's meant to be read fast, not savored–that sentence you spent 10 months crafting? People will likely skim over it in less than a second. Now, there is something to say about craft and passion, but true craft won't come from self-deprecation and the dusty, half-read books you have sitting in your bookshelf, it will come from devotion. This is why, rather than perfectionism, you should choose devotion. > Rather than perfectionism, choose devotion. Negative reinforcement helps no one. Instead of spending countless hours criticizing my work harshly in a hopeless attempt to propel my skill, I'm choosing to practice devotion to my illustrated webnovel project by obsessing over my characters and my world. Each day, my website feels more like a distinct world where my characters live and breathe. If you'd like to read more about my webnovel, you can do so here.

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[TGT] 1. Dearth

< main > >> Uncle Lusio had been gone for three days. Elpis skillfully worked the old lead rope into a thief’s knot, securing Cloud to the fence outside the stable—the male steed had been born prematurely, but what he didn’t have in size he carried in attitude. Out of all the villagers who helped keep the stables in Cuey, Elpis was the only one who had yet to receive a kick or a bite, and thus the only one who still held some fondness for the horse. He doused his sponge in the bucket and turned to scrub two weeks’ worth of grime from the horse’s coat. In the distance, he expected to see his uncle returning to Cuey. But the golden hills stood solitary, rippling like the surface of a pond broken by a pebble. After a grueling day working in the fields, Elpis and the rest of the village wardens had only recovered a wagon of stunted, graying wheat. All but four of them had gone home to their families. They lingered under the nearby oak tree with Kailani, hoping to rest before returning to their posts at each of Cuey’s gates. “What about Ilysa?” asked Echo. Nearly thirty years their senior, Echo was the eldest of the group, yet it was also his age that often led him to say whatever was on his mind, not caring what others might think or whom he was speaking to—there were exceptions, of course, but Kailani wasn’t one of them, even being the son of Lusio, the village chief. “She’s pretty, just not my type,” Kailani responded, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, what is your type, then? You need a wife.” “I just don’t know how to choose.” Echo smacked Kailani in the back and gave him a proud smile. “Seems like every girl in the village is after you, Kailani.” The comment got a laugh out of two of the others. “That’s not what I—” “Maybe he can have concubines, like the Emperor,” Echo joked. The laughs were less enthusiastic this time. “I guess I really can’t help it,” Kailani lied. “Why choose one when I can choose all?” Despite being cousins, Elpis and Kailani were practically raised as brothers, and as far as Elpis could recall, Kailani had only ever had one crush, and that passed quickly after he learned she wanted to join the Scorcan army. Still, the comment got a chuckle out of the wardens, which is what he must have been aiming for. “If you break every young lady’s heart, our village is doomed,” Echo teased. “None of the women will talk to the rest of us.” Elpis grabbed a brush and set to work on the mats in Cloud’s tail, hoping to tune out the rest of the conversation. Rue, the youngest of the group, wandered off to the gate, likely looking for an exit from the conversation. At his youthful age of sixteen, Rue didn’t quite fit in with the older wardens. He seemed to enjoy their company but rarely participated in their banter. “What about you, Elpis? You’re still young and not so bad looking.” Echo frowned at Elpis. “Maybe you can dress normally, though.” Dust had stained Elpis’ pale pants and blue waistcloth, nearly concealing the proud banner of old Cuey, but it wasn't the dirt Echo was concerned about. Elpis was the only one in the village who still wore this specific design—everyone else wore the Scorcan-approved purple waistcloth. Echo wasn’t wrong. Just last night as Elpis was heading back to his quarters, he overheard his neighbors from down the street calling him a “ghost” after he walked by. He didn’t pay attention to those comments anymore, but he was aware people were bothered by his choice of attire. Elpis switched his attention back to the horse. “Were we expecting the Imperial Army?” asked Rue. It was strange to hear him speak, and even stranger for him to change the topic so suddenly. Everyone turned to look at Rue and followed his gaze past the west gate. On the road leading to Iris, a cluster of figures was making ground fast. They were hard to make out, but there was no mistaking the garish gold flag that cleaved through the darkening sky—it could only be the Scorcans, perhaps a dozen of them. Kailani shot Elpis a look: _you can’t be here_. Elpis directed Cloud towards the stable. His pulse thrummed in his ears as he guided the horse into the westmost stall, hoping Cloud wouldn’t make a fuss. But when Elpis went to remove the halter, Cloud reared its head out of Elpis’ reach. “Calm down,” Elpis cooed. When he reached for the halter again, Cloud threatened to bite him. Elpis went to tie the lead to the stall instead. It would be better than leaving it loose where Cloud could get tangled. The sound of approaching hooves got louder as he looped the rope once around the stall’s gate and then... And then? He clicked his tongue as his fingers fumbled with the knot. Why couldn’t he remember the steps? Cloud turned around, yanking the rope right out of Elpis’ hands. There was no time to fix this. The Scorcans were right outside the gate now. ### This post is for subscribers only Become a member to get access to all content Subscribe now

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Fear of Being Seen

When I was very young, I tied the idea of being a role model to femininity and to parenthood. I've never been the ideal feminine nor have I ever wanted to be. I don't hate femininity–I just wanted to be the most genuine version of myself, the one that existed somewhere in a rainbow of genders, the one that didn't feel that I was cosplaying gender to feel accepted. But in a culture of machismo, extrem _ist_ performances of gender are created, and the parts that are not feminine _enough_ become the loudest to people who only experience or accept the extremist performances. Among the _not enough_ was the understanding that I never wanted to have children because the idea of having another human growing _inside of my body_ is a bit like body horror to me. And thus, this developed into the belief that becoming a role model was terrifying and something I simply couldn't be. I felt the first pangs of my fear hit me super hard when a couple of artist friends expressed that they saw me as a role model. The role, in that moment, was chosen for me, and no amount of suggestions that I was kind of an idiot and it was sooo much better if we all saw each other as _equals_ convinced them. Somehow, this coupled with my perfectionism (more on that some other time) snowballed into art block. Years after this conversation, I was still unable to draw. I would doodle here and there, but was mostly unable to keep it up. Weeks would go by between drawings, sometimes months. ## Sign up for Fiery Mail Be the first to see new sketches, illustration, stories & ideas. Subscribe Email sent! Check your inbox to complete your signup. No spam. Unsubscribe anytime. On a hot summer day, weighted down by the guilt that I shouldn't buy any more books because I have enough of them that I haven't read, I pick up a book from the back of a store in Massachusetts: _The Creative Act_ by Rick Rubin. The mere fact this was art social media's favorite book made it feel like a grifty self help book for a really long time. But once I started reading it, I was sent back in time and place to Art Theory (art philosophy, not design theory), one of my favorite college classes ever. It reminded me what the role of the artist is: to exist as a human, wrong or right as we may be. Sharing our work creates new reads, new versions of that work. No one experiences art the same way just as no one experiences us the same way; we are mirrors of society. By nature, our role does not put us on a pedestal, it puts us on the pillory. > We aren't creating to produce or sell material products. The act of creation is an attempt to enter a mysterious realm. A longing to transcend. What we create allows us to share glimpses of an inner landscape, one that is beyond our understanding. Art is our portal to the unseen world. > Without the spiritual component, the artist works with a crucial disadvantage.[...] (Rick Rubin, The Creative Act) I can't recall exactly where I first heard this, but this whole thing brought to mind that, "The process will always be yours, but the final work is the audience's." This finally helped me face my fear of being seen. At the beginning of the year I had set out looking for discipline, but the problem had been _too_ much discipline, too much desire for order and control of my work. I wanted my work to be ultra-polished, that it speak the right words and give the right answers to my audience, that it be so polished that it couldn't possibly _be_ ignorant because someone out there was seeing me as a role model. I realize now that that is not something I have much say in because, damn, that's a grandiose task for one person who _just makes_ drawings, isn't it? I believe than when my friends told me I was their role model, that they weren't seeing _me_ , exactly; I believe they were looking at my artwork, at me, and saw qualities that _they_ already have and admire: drive, creativity, talent, passion, love for their work – whatever it is they saw, it was theirs, not mine to begin with, and it was there for them to accept it and appreciate themselves once they felt ready to face that truth. I'm grateful I was able to be a mirror for them and I hope, that in the future, I will be able to react in a less fearful and defensive way when I'm put on the pillory.

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Sketch Collection #2

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TGT Poster/Book Cover/Illustration

I challenged myself to create an illustration that could work as a standalone horizontal illustration, a poster, a square icon, a web banner, and a wraparound book cover. It was tricky to find a composition that worked as _everything_ , while still maintaining the language necessary for said project. I think I did alright. (✿◡‿◡) What do you think? Sparkling rain falls over a pond, breaking the blue-tinted surface of the water. Here, two characters hold hands as they observe each other. Subscribe to my newsletter to get free artwork, essays, and announcements, sent straight to your inbox. Don't miss a thing! Members who pay a small contribution get more of everything, plus early access to new chapters of The Golden Thread. Subscribe This is how I imagine the illustration as a book cover, with the title __The Golden Thread__ on the front and spine, plus a summary of the story on the back. A poster similar to the front book cover.

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Sketch Collection #1

You can see my first sketch collection below if you joined my newsletter. More collections like this one are on the way for Gold subscribers. I will be sharing smaller collections for Free members as well, so there's something for everyone who subscribes! Upgrade ### This post is for subscribers only Become a member to get access to all content Subscribe now

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My Website Is Changing! (And This Newsletter)

"Whoa! Things look weird around here. What's up with that?" If you thought that, you'd be correct. I'm currently in the process of switching my website and, thus my newsletter, to Ghost. Settings and copy are still being fiddled around with, but if you've been dying to support me, now I'm giving you the tools to do so. One of the most exciting things for me about artist behind-the-scenes, is seeing how they progress and develop their skill. In my case, you can see how I relearn how to draw, change my mindset, and fall back in love with my longest passion, art, after a long hiatus. You'll get to see studies like these, and read notes about how I'm progressing, what's helping and what's not, and see my characters kissing each other. (✿◡‿◡) A little background: It's been a rough few years for artists. Globally, there have been lots of changes that have created difficulties for creatives like myself: increased shipping prices, restrictive laws meant to do good things but that were not thought of all the way through, etc. I don't want to be all doom and gloom, but it's very stressful to be an emerging artist and have a business that requires sending items via mail right now. Add to that that I'm pretty homebound without inconveniencing other people and, voila! But all hope is not lost: I'm switching to offering digital content. If your inbox is anything like mine, it's full of junk. I want to help change that! During the past few years, I've been on a journey to get back into drawing after struggling with burnout and my mental health. It has taken me a long time to get to this point, so I'm very happy to say that I'm finally starting to see the fruits of my labor. I've started drawing again and I will soon start publishing my webnovel! If you have been subscribed to my newsletter, you have already been graduated to my free tier. If not, subscribe to this newsletter/publication and you'll receive art & updates from me directly to your inbox so you never miss a thing! If you want to see _more_ posts more often, then you can subscribe to the Gold tier for $7/month or $50/year (save 41%). In the Gold tier, you'll get to see way more sketches, more of my thoughts and behind-the-scenes stuff _and_ you'll be among the first to read my illustrated webnovel _The Golden Thread_ , an LGBTQ+ romance fantasy story about deep bonds and rebellion. Chapters will be published in a serialized fashion, as is standard for webnovels, beginning as soon as next Friday. Take a peek at the blurb to see if it interests you: > **Love through lifetimes.** > As the sole survivor of Cuey during the Night of Terror, Elpis has lived hiding his existence from the oppressive Scorcan Empire and watching the expansion of the Fray—a rot inside the invisible sacred Thread that gives Karanans their magic and connects them to each other and to the land. When his uncle, the village chief, falls ill with a deadly disease, Elpis follows an insurgent all the way to the secret Crimson Guard stronghold in Moonflower Mountain looking for a medicine forbidden by Scorcan law due to its magical nature. > Now Elpis will enter a world where Thread magic is not just accepted, it is necessary for the survival of the group. Despite lacking this magic, Elpis piques the attention of Rytar, the mysterious leader of the Crimson Guard, entangling their fates in a way that threatens to shift the balance of the Thread and the destiny of Karana. Whatever option you decide is best for you, you'll still get to enjoy my artwork and some of my thoughts from time to time, and I'll be very grateful and excited that you'll get to join me along this journey.

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Sketch Collection #1

Artist sharing sketches, illustration, stories & ideas.

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