on my bike
The manuscript for my YA memoir, “Still Stace” is DONE. I can’t believe the metamorphosis this story has undergone since my very first pitch (and I am so grateful for my editor!)
The version I originally pitched in Feb 2019 (which got me my agent) was about 1200 words. I envisioned it as a picture book. Now, as a YA illustrated memoir, it’s over 43,000 words! I never planned to write so much, or so honestly, about reconciling my sexuality and my faith – but I am so grateful for this opportunity.
Now that the writing is done, the hard part begins. THE. DRAWING. It’s one thing to write about tough and vulnerable experiences – now I gotta draw them. This weekend I sat down to start my roughs for the first chapters, and felt the familiar spiral of doubt hit me. How can I do this? Am I good enough to do this? …I can’t do this.
I got stuck. This happens to me when I am working on something I feel a lot of importance behind. The only recipe that works to get unstuck, is:
1 – get outside, preferably on my bike, stare at the mountains, sweat, lip sync some amazing music
2 – come home and create a piece of art with no expectations or judgement
Here’s what I created to get unstuck. And it worked – I drew most of yesterday and got the first section of roughs done! (Sometimes it’s a combination of letting go, and just being kinder with ourselves.)
This series of images came from listening to the lyrics of “Be Alright” by @dantebowe and @amandalindseycook. I have found great encouragement from it, I hope you connect with it too!
I believe I encountered a UFO whilst riding my bike last night.
I have drawn this photo-realistic evidence as proof – see my arm in the foreground to see how close I came to the creature. Please forward to your nearest FBI or X-Files agent asap!
Unrelated note: People are funny things, hey?
(PLEASE NOTE: If Gillian Anderson wants to speak about this, please send her to me directly. *swoon*)
Pausing along the Maple Ridge / Pitt Meadows Dyke trails to breathe in the mountain fog.
Right now, this is my church.
On my bike, sweating down these trails, God and I have it out.
Almost every day.
My most visceral aches.
My wildest dreams.
My tender hopes.
My loud celebrations and my quiet grief.
My beautiful questions, my untamed excitement, and my honest heartbreak.
Something about this mountain air, it’s healing.
We can do this.
We can do hard things.
I hope you’re hanging in there, friends.
And I hope you are finding your church too. ❤️🌈 🚲