Somewhere around 2004 I joined a teen writers’ group in Ojai run by my now-friend Deb Norton. The rules of the group were simple: those who arrived on time got a bowl of sugary cereal of their choosing, and if we hit our self-determined goals from session to session we’d get a visit to the Prize Box.
The Prize Box, as far as I recall, was just…a cardboard box. But it was full of candy, novelty Japanese erasers, custom mix CDs, and Pilot Varsity fountain pens. Goofy shit. But it worked.
As I mentioned in my last Seacritters update post, I’ve been thinking a lot about motivation in this last quarter of the book. For many years I managed my freelance schedule by drawing these little “WHERE’S THE MONEY, BELLWOOD?” diagrams in my sketchbook.
They amused me, and helped me track down money when it was due. But there’s something telling in the facial expressions I always chose. Juggling this many jobs was draining. In my heart of hearts, I wanted to be moving from a place of joy rather than reacting in fear. Even now, when my workload is less scattered and my financial situation less precarious, I still find myself reacting more to the threat of the stick than the promise of the carrot. How do I orient toward joy?
I’ve struggled with setting (and actually implementing) rewards. When I made a NO Punchcard at a moment when I was trying to be more protective of my time, I successfully filled out all the squares, but totally stalled out when it was time to pick a prize. The accomplishment was (kind of) its own reward. Or I just couldn’t think of anything to celebrate with.
Celebration is a crucial part of motivation! It helps my animal brain acknowledge that I’ve overcome an obstacle, accomplished a goal, or moved in the direction of my values. WHY IS IT SO HARD TO THINK OF REWARDS?
This seems obvious, but I only recently thought of making myself a slightly different mind map in the ol’ sketchbook.
Okay, so some of these feel a bit too close to “satisfying chores” rather than “decadent indulgences” (that handlebar tape is REALLY GROSS, THO), and picking a prize also means grappling with the ways we’re pressured to use consumption as a reward. BUT IT’S A STEP IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION.
Having a closing party for the 100 Demon Dialogues Kickstarter was such a lovely and life-affirming thing. We crammed a bunch of people into the patio of a Portland bar and had a joint countdown for the final few seconds of the campaign. I’m pretty sure I live-streamed it on Kickstarter. There was cake. There were balloons. When I think about the memory of that night in my body, I feel joy.
The Prize Box worked because it was full of good pens and rad mix CDs, but it was also something that existed within a community. My peers would cheer when I got to visit the box. I think that was actually more important than any novelty eraser. So in the interest of involving my community a bit more in choosing a reward, I’m putting this to a vote over on Patreon.
I got to have an extensive chat with Manu Moreale a couple months ago for his People & Blogs series, which is a lovely project showcasing folks writing online and maintaining their own sites. It was a fun opportunity to examine my own blogging practice as a historical artifact (oh god, my first travel blog from 2007 is still online), financial expenditure (writing here costs me $35 a month?), and philosophical calling card (“From a branding perspective, it sometimes feels like a disaster. But I think that’s okay! A blog isn’t a billboard, it’s a garden. It can be a space for everything.”).
I’m also reproducing the following section in full because I do think everyone should know about these quality humans:
Time for some recommendations: any blog you think is worth checking out? And also, who do you think I should be interviewing next?
I have a huge creative peer crush on fellow cartoonist-with-blog Reimena Yee (Especially this sprawling portrait of her work and influences.)
Mandy Brown’s blog, A Working Library, makes me add books to my to-read list faster than anything else—and it’s lovely to look at
Reading Rob Wychert’s ongoing log of his site redesign makes me wish I knew more about building websites
Anna Iltnere is an absolute icon who’s been stewarding a growing library of sea-related books out of her home in Latvia for years
Sumana Harihareswara’s clarity and pragmatism are bracing, but also deeply human
