Lillian Cohen-Moore
23. 04. 2012

Yet again, that bit of advice from someone I love dearly keeps me going.

April has been one of those weird, frustrating months for me; I’ve spent 11 days of the month so far absent from where I’m holed up these days. I’m trying to honestly evaluate some push goals for the end of the month and if it’s possible to travel one last time this month around them. One of those is the anthology I signed on with, which has been clipping along like a three alarm fire. All the stories are in, and the last bit of text I need to drop in (everyone’s bios) comes in this week, Heaven willing. For every weird wrench we’ve hit, we’ve taken a few deep breaths and continued going forward, fixing issues along the way. Jennifer is one of the only reasons I’ve survived this project without caving in from stress. She’s probably the best anthology crash course I could have ever asked for, and it’s been keeping me on the ball and asking questions, usually the right ones, to get through this as an editor.

There’s the invisible support network cabal as well—Ryan, Minerva, Rich, Nate, Logan—who have supplied a lot of advice, love, support, and problem solving. They also all uniformly call me on my shit, which I think is one of the most valuable things a friend can do.

There’s the normal, monthly deadlines that had to get satisfied this month— an interview with the band The Mongrel Jews, a shop talk with Daniel Solis about his work with layout— that got handled. The band interview was my first with a musical act, and I’m really proud of the photos. It was freezing and I spent a lot of time standing on bar furniture or kneeling in mud to get them. I’m still wading through an avalanche of interested professionals who responded to my call looking for women to interview for an article series on women in the games industry.

Everything this month, the travel, seeing people, working, has all been exhausting and lovely.

The thing I’m excited and terrified of is that even with my normal monthly work, a number of projects are reaching completition. I’ll still a see a lot of stuff cross my desk, but the things I’m co-writing, the things I’m doing solo, I’ve been sneaking them in bits and bites.  And when they’re done, I have to show them to the world. Fiction’s not the same as journalism, for me, it is probably twice as terrifying but just as much of a rush. So while I’m finishing up this anthology and tying up loose ends on other things, there’s a lot of writing for me to do. And there’s things that have made me struggle with that.

J, my friend who took of to work the summer in Alaska, has been working through the same ‘behind the scenes’ issues in her art as I have been. College turned out to be a wash for us in terms of full time prospects after. We’ve both been under-employed and struggling, and all we can do is continue walking forward, because that’s how we’re going to make progress, and come out on the other side. We can’t say yes to opportunities if we don’t keep going on to meet them. So she’s in Alaska this summer, looking for her opportunities. And I’m here in the village, making mine.

One response to “continue walking”

  1. Jess Banks says:

    One of my favorite quotes of all time comes from Winston Churchill: “If you’re going through Hell, keep going.” It’s so hard to see progress from the inside of the tornado, but you’re cutting quite a swath. Keep it up, darling. :)