When I am doing good and honest work on something that is meaningful to me, it’s much easier to drown out the voices (both internal and external) that tell me I still need more, more, more. To wit: when I was drawing and writing my forthcoming graphic memoir (preorder now!), I had very little desire to shop. It’s like being a producer made me less interested in being a consumer somehow.
But now, in this in-between time, when I haven’t gotten a foothold on a new project and am feeling adrift, I find myself seeking out all sorts of ridiculous things to covet. The latest one is this Marni runway jacket that costs nearly as much as I make in a month at my day job.
The jacket reminds me that, no matter how calm and wise I’ve become—no matter how much I appreciate what I already have in life and no matter how much I acknowledge my privilege—the feeling of “not enough” is always right there, ready to mess with any perspective I’ve gained. Of course, you could blame it on the capitalist machine that feeds us lies about how “more” will make us feel complete. But I also want to own the fact that, deep down, sometimes I’m a seething mass of want. It’s not always, so I guess there’s that, but it is definitely a part of who I am.
The seething mass is why I am also very susceptible to envy of all sorts, and why I’m currently suffering from a raging case of professional envy. Actually, it’s two cases of professional envy, one major and one minor, which is kind of like having a cold sore and your period at the same time—which is also currently happening, so please join me in feeling very, very sorry for me.
The major case began with the launch of a new graphic memoir that covers a lot of the same territory as my book: a fraught mother-daughter relationship, the struggles of being a child of immigrants, the Chinese Cultural Revolution etc. etc. Only that graphic memoir sold at auction while mine had no interest from any Big 5 publishers. And it was blurbed by an acclaimed author who declined to blurb my book. And the book’s creator was profiled in the New York Times and featured on the NPR Book of the Day podcast. She is now currently on the second leg of a national tour of 30+ cities where she has been “in conversation” with the likes of Jenny Odell and Hua Hsu.
It’s a great book, truly, and the author is a lovely person who has worked hard on both her story and its promotion. She deserves all the acclaim she’s getting, and I have absolutely nothing against her. But that didn’t stop me from spiralling for days, worried that her success somehow means there will be nothing left for me when my own book comes out in September.
At its root, my professional envy comes from that same feeling of “not enough.” But what, exactly, would be enough? I mean, there will always be someone who makes more money and gets more recognition than me, just as there will always be a super-unattainable item of clothing out there for me to obsess over. Would getting the things I think I want calm the seething mass? Doubtful.
I’m reminded of this quote from Heather Havrilesky’s essay collection, What If This Were Enough?: “
Many of us learn to construct a clear and precise vision of what we want, but we’re never taught how to enjoy what we actually have. There will always be more victories to strive for, more strangers to charm, more images to collect and pin to our vision boards. It’s hard to want what we have; it’s far easier to want everything in the world.”
There is no real cure for my condition — much like a cold sore, it’ll flare up in ugly ways from time to time — but I do know that drawing is as close to a cure as it gets for me. And Maurice Sendak was right when he said, “It’s sublime to go into another room and make pictures. It’s magic time, where all your weaknesses of character, the blemishes of your personality, whatever else torments you, fades away, just doesn’t matter.”
Writing about it helps, too.
I feel a bit better now, so I’m not even going to tell you about the other, minor, case of professional envy, except to say that LAUREN GROFF and CARMEN MARIA MACHADO both blurbed a book by a Calgary-based memoirist who is NOT ME.
😭😭
:) Teresa
ps. I haven’t forgotten about Gaza, and I hope you haven’t either. If possible, please help Hanan, a friend of my friend Rachel.
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Thank you so much for saying these things. Yes to being between projects and feeling unmoored—part of my process early in a project is noticing what’s around and that can often lead to wanting things because if I own it … somehow the writing gets done. ???? 😆
And also professional jealousy. We don’t talk about this enough, and it’s so layered and conflicted. Excited for a colleague’s success while sad that some elements of one’s own success are “lesser,” ugh.
Your remedy being the page does hold up for me, too. What can I do now about my books, how can I put energy into creating new work. Vs how can I acquire something shiny.
Thank you; I very much needed to read this today.
Growing up, my parents always told us to “watch the doughnut, not the hole”! I instilled the same homily in my daughter and now send it out to you. I’ve always been a glass-half-full gal and maybe this was the cause 🤷🏼♀️ On the other hand, I think ‘want’ is what motivates me to go after those things/traits I envy in other people!