Once again, it was my friend, Krystallia, who alerted me to the awesome creativity of Melissa Ng (pronounced “Eng”), creator of Lumecluster–“where dreamers find courage.”
When I saw Melissa’s amazing designs, I knew I had to share.
But when I read her post, 2018 Year in Review: On almost giving up, I decided to do more than share her tale. I’d like to share mine, too.
Introducing Melissa
Melissa Ng is the creative genius behind the Dreamer theme and style. She created Lumecluster.com to be a place where Dreamers can find the courage to push the boundaries of their imagination and overcome their fears and insecurities.
As a New York-based self-taught artist who started 3D printing in 2014, she combined a background in media and public relations with her experience as a small-business owner to create art.
Within less than a year in the 3D printing arena, Melissa won the Adobe & Shapeways 3D Printing Design Competition with her very first 3D print, helped design the aesthetics on a gorgeous 3D printed prosthetic leg, and created masks for a JiHAE music video starring The Walking Dead’s Norman Reedus among many other great distinctions.
Melissa…
Given all that success–and her stunning designs–I was shocked when the very first post I read on her blog was the one where she confesses she almost gave up last year. In her own words:
“in 2018, I felt more fragile than ever despite the empowering armor I was striving to create…because I was utterly burnt out.
Since 2014 (along with another company my sisters and I have been running since 2010), I have been working seven days a week without taking vacations. My “breaks” included meals and sleeping. I even deprived myself of fun activities because I thought I didn’t deserve them if I didn’t feel like I accomplished enough. And if I did take time off to do something else, it needed to be productive and useful in some way. I know…this is an unhealthy lifestyle that can really destroy creativity. So, why did I do it?
Because I felt guilty.
Guilty for creating “carefree” art when other people were doing “real work.”
Guilty for finding some joy in creating things that the people around me thought was “useless.”
Guilty for pursuing something I loved when other people “didn’t have that luxury.”
Yes, that’s what some of the people in my real life in New York were telling me. And yes, it hurts so much more than some nasty online comment because they are coming from people I personally knew.”
…and me
Melissa then goes on to explain how a support network helped her overcome these negative feelings (you should read her full post, if only for the gorgeous photos). And she reaches the point where her words rang only too familiar:
“[A friend] encouraged me to build a better support system before I really harmed my mental and physical health… and before I started hating the very work I loved.”
This part made me do a double take. Since 2013, when I published my first book, I’ve been trying to build an author career. Along the way, I’ve had you, the readers of this blog, support me. However, I, too, found myself in need of further support. And I, too, found 2018 my most exhausting year todate. Despite several successes, not least of signing a contract with Patakis to publish my children’s books, I was burnt out.
On burning out
I’ve alluded to this in the past but I don’t normally mention how bad it was at times. The joy writing used to give me was largely gone, buried under a pile of sheer exhaustion. In the end, it came down to a simple choice: between keeping the family fed and happy, and holding on to my dream of a creative career. Burning the midnight oil every single night was taking too large a toll on all of us. It was time to acknowledge the simple fact that I’m no longer in my twenties: I can only do so much in a day. I needed to reclaim my weekends and afternoons, spend more quality time with the family, and increase my income.
So, it saddens me to admit that I haven’t done much writing since 2017. I’ve started half a dozen projects but never have the time to make any real progress with them.
For a while, I’d start the day with the best of intentions: write for an hour or so, then work on other stuff. But every morning, “real life” would barge in, making a mockery of my plans. I now write whenever I get some (elusive) free time, one chapter (or short story) at a time. And I’ve stopped berating myself for that. I can only do so much, and I don’t need to prove anything to anyone.
This last part is particularly important to me. Somehow, I managed to keep my guilt at bay. I’m doing the best I can–and that’s all anyone can ask of me (or anyone).
After all, it’s a Catch 22, isn’t it? Until my books can earn enough to let me focus on them, I can’t do so. But unless I do so, my books can’t earn enough. Maybe someday I’ll be able to both focus fulltime on my books and have enough free time to enjoy my family. To do a lot of things I can only dream of at the moment.
Maybe that moment will come sooner. Or it may come later. Or it may not come at all.
I’ve learned to be okay with that and to reign in my impatience. Had I not done so, I, too, would have ended up hating my writing. And that’s the last thing I want.
But I also want to acknowledge that I wouldn’t have made it this far without your support. So, I wish to say a big ‘thank you’ to all of you, and to everyone who has supported me in this journey. Or, as Melissa eloquently puts it:
Yes, we are all in the arena actively fighting for our own paths in life, claiming victories where we can, and recovering from our failures along the way. But it’s a wonderful feeling knowing that there’s the chance to cross paths with others who are looking to build and find even greater adventures together…and maybe help patch up each other’s wounds every now and then.
Thank you for sharing my journey with me. And to anyone struggling out there, remember: you’re not alone!
Nick, this is one of the most touching and honest posts you’ve composed. More of us need to be honest, not just flag waving when we have a tiny victory. I relate to Lorelei Logsdon, “I just want to remove everything from social media and just make things for myself alone, without ever sharing them with anyone.” Having once been lost in the Pacific Ocean, I often think: After a week, who misses us? Who misses our work? The single thing I’ve learned in my life is pity parties are solo events. No one likes to be invited to one. That’s why posts like this are popular. We can relate, but we didn’t have to pitch in to lend hand when a hand up, a kind word or a sincere hug was desperately needed. Here’s wishing all good fortune. Telling you up front: Good fortune takes work.
Thank you, Jackie! I shared it because you’re right: social media present a distorted vision where everyone’s successful but us, for the simple reason that people tend to share their successes and not their failures.
As for a helping hand, you’ve done more than your share with authors in your group, something I try to do as well 🙂
It’s ridiculously difficult to be all things to all people. It’s exhausting and naturally draining on the creative well. But just imagine that well when you’re ready.
Thank you, Lauren! It sure is hard to be creative when exhausted!
I’m sorry to hear you’ve been having a bad time. Being burnt out is something I can most certainly identify with, but I guess we have to fight on in order to live our dreams. It’s brave of you to share the ups as well as the downs of the life of the writer, and we all understand how you feel. Keep the faith, your excellent work belongs out there, and thank you for introducing us to another amazing talent, Melissa. Never give up, burn-out is the artist’s bane. 🙂
I love that thought; burnout being the artist’s name! Thank you, Alli 🙂
I’m sorry you had a rough year, and I hope your support system can continue to grow. I appreciate you being part of mine. I suppose this sort of self-doubt and frustration happens in all art forms. I know when I work for a long time on a project (blood, sweat, and tears…almost) and then get “$$$$$$$$” in a comment, I just want to remove everything from social media and just make things for myself alone, without ever sharing them with anyone. That desire to give it all up is there every day, so every day is a struggle. Art is sharing part of your inner self, your soul, so it puts artists in a vulnerable position. Please don’t ever give up!
Thank you! For everything 🙂
I think 2018 was a bad year all round. For me, it had to do with personal and family reasons, but it was probably the second-worst year of my life to date.
One of the reasons that I never tried to be a writer is clearly explained by your own experience, Nicholas. Once a pleasure becomes a job, it generally ceases to remain a pleasure.
I hope you have a better year in 2019, my friend.
Best wishes, Pete.
Thank you so much, Pete. For everything. I’m sorry it was such a bad year for you. Here’s to a better 2019!