Almost Icarus: What I learned “Writing” an Album With AI Software

This might be my most controversial blog post yet, moreso than any of my posts on religion or politics. Like, I could lose my Artist™ card over this transgression.

You see, I have sinned. I wrote an album using AI software.

Not a song.

Not even an EP.

A whole ass album.

I realize that sounds bad, and it kind of is. Bear with me.

“First you use AI, now you’re saying you have a bear with you. Can we even believe you Jessa??”

I’ve discussed AI in depth on here before, and to be honest I was a skeptic before I met a good friend who introduced me to the software. It was simple enough — you input a prompt (or a full set of lyrics if you’re really fancy), and out pops a song. And the songs it spat out were not robotic or mechanical at all. They sounded extremely realistic, all with breath sounds and guitar string scrapes and lifelike vocals. There was no uncanny valley — that valley had been crossed.

The friend was using the software because they don’t play an instrument, but wanted to write songs, which I mean, I definitely get that. I can’t shame someone for wanting to bring the music in their head to life. That’s what I’ve spent my entire life trying to do myself through songwriting.

But one night, I was bored at work. They say that idle hands are the devil’s playthings, and the little red man was feeling especially feisty I guess. So I downloaded the software myself and plugged in some of my unused lyrics along with prompts that reflected the kind of music I wanted to make. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to generate some ideas to glean. And holy shit was my mind blown. Suddenly I had one, two, five songs that were literally already complete, and according to the licensing policy of the particular software I was using, I could do whatever the hell I wanted with these songs. I could post them, remix them…

Pull it to the side and get all up in them.

I could re-record all of the songs I’d beep-booped and release them myself. It was genius! This was going to streamline songwriting in ways I’d never imagined. Suddenly, I was writing lyrics to see what the software would spit out. It was almost addictive.

But it didn’t come without a cost. I felt a twinge of guilt whenever my girlfriend would mention an anti-AI post. I knew what I was doing was technically cheating, but the dopamine hit from hitting “create” was too strong. My imposter syndrome was getting worse because of it. I’ve been writing music since I was 14 — how the fuck was a computer writing better songs than me? It was almost disheartening. Nothing I tried to come up with on my own compared to the full songs this software came up with in ten seconds.

Not to mention the fact that my taste in music was now borked. I now had all these songs I’d created and curated specifically for my own taste in music, and nothing else compared. I wasn’t getting “hyperfixation” songs like I used to because all I wanted to listen to were my creations on repeat. I needed to squeeze all of the joy I possibly could out of them because nothing else was satisfying.

The songs after I sucked the life out of them.

So here we are now, with me stuck with 12 songs I only half wrote and don’t know what to do with. The conundrum I find myself in is that these are not only good songs, but personal songs. I used some deeply personal lyrics I couldn’t find a melody worthy of in order to make some of these songs. There’s a song about recovering from my rape, there’s a song about how I probably won’t ever get to have a kid, there’s even a song about how I’m willing to go to war to defend my girlfriend from Nazis. I tried rewriting them but nothing sticks like the fucking AI songs. At this point they’re more than songs. They’re demons I need to exorcise.

And the only way I can exorcise them is by re-recording them and releasing them into the world.

I wanted to write this blog post before I post anything from this album just because I don’t feel ethically sound releasing something made with AI without disclosing that detail. I came to love these songs and I hope you do too, despite their origin. They’re still very much my work lyrically, and I’ll do my best to make it musically own as well. It’s unsettling how close some them already sound to songs that came directly from my noggin. “Fire” is a sexy rocker to “Sweet Honey,” and “WTF” could be considered the sequel of “Chrysanthemums.” I’ve been trying to think of some way to frame the release of these songs as a social experiment — will the music I created with AI be more successful than music created entirely by humans — but truthfully, I just want to get these songs out there in some fashion.

This blog post comes with a warning — if you’re a creative type at all, use caution when utilizing AI software, because it will erode your actual skills if you’re not careful. That’s not to say it won’t have any legitimate uses. I can see it being used in music therapy settings with a lot of success, and I’ve heard of nerdy types using it to make songs specific to their D&D campaigns. Hell, I can see it being used to get ideas during a bad writer’s block, so long as you don’t lose your own voice. But therein lies the problem. AI is like fire — it is a tool, but you have to remember, it’s still fucking fire. It’s almost eerily fitting that the software I used contains the word “sun” and one of the songs I made with it was one named “Icarus.” At first I wanted to believe I was Bernie Taupin and the AI was my Elton John, but if I’m honest, I was Icarus and the AI was my sun.

It’s not flying, it’s falling with style.

I don’t harbor any ill will toward the friend that showed me the software or even the software itself. I’m glad the songs I beep-booped into existence exist now, even if I wish the circumstances behind their existence were different. I don’t know if I’ll ever write anything with AI again after this project is properly exorcised. My next project is a concept album that’s almost finished lyric-wise, and I’m so tempted at times to pump them into the software and see what it comes up with, but I’m restraining myself as best as I can. I want to see what I can come up with this time.

I kind of miss the process of creating, and im tempted to make my next project entirely analog for this reason. I miss that hands-on feeling. When I was at my girlfriend’s apartment this weekend, I toyed with her synthesizer and recorded a handful of catchy riffs with my phone. They’re not full songs, but they’re starts. And most importantly, they’re mine.

Technology Marches On: A Musician’s Perspective on AI

This is going to be a controversial post. So hold onto your butts, dear readers.

A few nights ago, Reddit’s r/chapppellroan community was abuzz, and not in a good way. The red-haired pop songstress invited controversy when she asked her fans to create unhinged AI images of her and her cousin.

Also embracing the millennial finger mustache, which I thought we collectively decided to forget about.

The overwhelming response from her fandom was, well, scathing. A lot of fans were disappointed, to say the least.

And they have reason to be. Artificial intelligence is an ethical landmine. I’m not even talking the environmental impact — remember, training a single bot can produce as much CO2 as five cars do in their lifetime. It already has the potential to put visual artists out of work, and honestly, music isn’t far behind. There are already fully AI songs charting. Being wife to a visual artist and a musician myself, you’d think I’d be as strongly against AI technology as Chappell’s fans. And for a long time, you would have been right.

But I’m not anymore. In fact, I think it can be useful — used correctly.

A good musician friend of mine introduced me to a certain software that utilizes AI to create full, complex songs out of, well, whatever you give it. I was hesitant at first, but one night, I was sitting at work bored to death. On a whim, I decided to flesh out some long-abandoned lyrics I’d written and toyed with the software a little. And I was shocked at how well the software could bring my visions to life. It hit me that I could use this technology to break through writer’s block. After all, according to the software’s terms of service, everything you beep-boop is yours to do whatever you want with. I could flesh out entire demos using AI!

And I can repeatedly listen to my own music *like never before!*

Let me be clear — I don’t support simply releasing what the software spits out. I think it’s disingenuous to put something out into the world and claim it’s yours when all you did was punch a few buttons. But I don’t see an issue with using it to glean ideas and visualize what you actually want to create. It’s the same concept for visual artists. Use AI to generate some poses or brainstorm ideas, but at the end of the day, your art is what you create yourself with your chosen medium.

I know it’s really easy for bad actors to use AI for insidious purposes, and I can’t argue that. Sure, making cute realistic neon owl families with AI is innocent enough, but what about Joe Biden and Donald Trump swordfighting with their penises? We have the technology to make a very convincing image of that…atrocity, and publishing it to social media has the potential to damage real people. For that reason, I think there needs to be significantly more legislation surrounding AI (or people are going to develop some really wild ideas about American politics).

Like people believing this man can *actually* shred.

Still, I don’t think AI is an entirely bad thing. It’s a tool like anything else, and every time a new creative tool comes out, people will declare it the enemy of true art. Painter J. M. W. Turner once said “This is the end of Art. I am glad I have had my day.” This quote was spoken in 1839 and is referring to the daguerreotype. But we still have painters to this day. And now that the technology exists, you can’t put the genie back in the lamp. Like it or not, AI will be a huge part of our future. As the Leadership Conference on Civil and Human Rights succinctly put it:

AI has the potential to help our communities, but if [people] aren’t equipped to successfully enter the future of work, they will not reap the benefits.

In other words, now that it exists, it’s a necessary evil, and folks will have to learn how to interact with it one way or another, lest risk being left behind.

I’m not a believer in black and white thinking. I think there are way too many gray areas in our everyday life, and I think the use of AI is one such gray area. There are many ways to use it ethically, and there are just as many ways to misuse it for sinister purposes. At the end of the day, I don’t think Chappell should be cancelled for wanting to experiment with it.

Let’s be real though, is Chappell even *cancelable?*

Use it or don’t, just be excellent to each other. And for the love of God, do not generate that penis-swordfighting image.

(And if you do, please do not show me, thanks.)

Serving Glimmers: How Art and Performance Can Save Lives

I had a realization a while back — one of the reasons I pursued music therapy was because it looked “good.” It seemed like a noble profession, using music to improve people’s lives in a meaningful, measurable way. I’d tell people I was studying music therapy and it was an instant “Ah yes, I can trust her, as she is clearly a good person.” All my boyfriends’ moms loved me for it, and strangers would tell me what I’m doing is so beautiful, so kind. It may just be playing guitar for some kid in a hospital, but to that kid, you’re a hero! And who doesn’t want to be a hero, you know?

I think I have a hero complex, and I think that’s what’s prevented me from jumping headfirst into performance instead. I always wanted to be a hero. I wanted to help people. And if I became a rock star, who would I be helping except my own selfish desires?

The typical perception of pretty much everybody is that performing and the arts are just little “extras.” They’re nothing but fun little distractions, right? No one needs a movie or a comic book or music to live.

QUICK! GET HIM THE LATEST TAYLOR SWIFT ALBUM!

What I’m slowly realizing is that, while we don’t need the arts to live, we absolutely need the arts to really live.

When I moved to Kalamazoo, I searched frantically for work. I would have taken damn near anything, but I wanted to try finding a job involving music. And lo and behold, a trivia company was looking for a music bingo host in my area. And I mean, getting to essentially be part-DJ, part-game show host every night?

I love what I do. It’s a great gig. But for a while, I was feeling like what I did didn’t really matter in the long run. People come into the bar, play music bingo, and leave, going on to live their own lives. I imagine there are probably nurses and firefighters in the audience, and what I do must seem so inconsequential compared to what they deal with every day. And I think those thoughts were starting to wear on me, because I got complaints from one of the bars I work at that I wasn’t “engaging enough.” At first I was angry, because what do you mean I’m not good enough?! But then I realized maybe I’m not giving it my all, and maybe that was because I felt like my job wasn’t important.

So I determined that this show would be my best show yet. I dressed just short of a full drag queen getup, picked some banger categories, and drank enough caffeine to kill a horse. I promised myself I’d socialize the whole time, even if I wanted to sit down. I even moved the chair so I wouldn’t be tempted to just sit down. I was going to give this show my all.

Then, something amazing happened. Sometimes, when you put good vibes out into the universe, the stars align and give you exactly what you need in that moment. What I needed was a glimmer.

Everyone knows what triggers are, but I recently saw that someone coined a term for the opposite phenomenon — glimmers. These are the tiny moments that make life worth living. I experience a glimmer every time I laugh with my wife, or hug my girlfriend, or hear my parents say they’re proud of me. They’re what being alive is all about. They’re little moments of pure joy, which was exactly what I needed.

I walked into the bar to an array of balloons. It was an older couple’s 55th anniversary, and I was going to be hosting music bingo smack dab in the middle of it. Thankfully, the couple was cool about me coming to blast disco at them and even joined in the game, along with many of the other folks in attendance. The older woman who was celebrating her anniversary came up to me and told me that her and her husband’s song was “You’re Still the One” by Shania Twain. And anyone who knows me knows I never miss an opportunity to play Shania Twain.

Tangentially related fact: I was so obsessed with her as a small child, I’d draw pictures of her and not my mom. (Yes, my mom was a little jealous.)

When intermission came, the bar dimmed the lights, leaving only the hanging Christmas lights to illuminate the room. I cued up the song and introduced the couple to the entire bar. Then, everyone gathered around the couple with their phone flashlights. Seeing all of their friends and family surround them in a sea of twinkling lights actually made me tear up a little. The family would remember this moment for the rest of their lives.

A moment I helped make happen.

It’s easy to dismiss entertainment as an opium of the masses, even more so than religion, as Marx famously said. But I’d argue that entertainment is as important as the STEM fields, just in a completely different way. Sure, a particular song may be insignificant to you, but that song could have been the one thing that stopped someone from taking their own life. There’s a reason for this album’s existence. I know people who stay alive because they want to see what happens next in their favorite video game franchise. The arts and media provide those small glimmers that keep people going.

So maybe I will go all-in on being an entertainer and creator. Because someone somewhere needs my music. Someone somewhere needs a fun game night at the local bar. Someone somewhere is reading my writings about mental health and my own personal journey and feels less alone because of it. Artists, writers, musicians, video game developers, game show hosts — they’re all heroes in a unique but important way. Entertainment and art communicate ideas, and more than that, hope.

That’s why I do what I do.

How I Invented Myself (As a Thirteen-Year-Old Girl With a Sketchbook)

First of all, this blog post needs a visual:

This post isn’t just an excuse to share a picture of me looking like an absolute baddie. You see, I made this very weird, very cool realization when I scrolled through recent pics to find this particular one.

That woman in the picture? I invented her.

When I was a kid, I had a lot of original characters. They were kind of my only friends when I didn’t have any to speak of. It’s easy to forget that I was ever uncool, but I very much was for most of my early life. I’ve talked about how I had to eat lunch in the library to avoid being pelted with ranch dressing packets, but that was really the tip of the iceberg. It got a lot worse than that at times. I scarcely remember a day in middle school where I didn’t come home from school crying. So I made up these imaginary people, usually rock stars, who’d be my friends, and on occasion, I’d make one whom I wanted to be.

That was Anne…I can’t remember her last name. It was Greek. She was Greek, as I had a brief Greek mythology phase (every teenage girl has one, I swear) and I’m pretty sure I made her to be the modern incarnation of Aphrodite. But I distinctly remember almost everything else about her. She had long dark hair, wore sort of gothy clothes, including fishnet stockings and gloves, and impossibly high black boots. She was the lead singer and guitarist of a rock band called Valentÿne (the umlaut is v important), and she had a teenaged little sister named Sophie of whom she’d become caregiver. She was an amalgamation of women I looked up to at the time — the Wilson sisters of Heart, other rocker chicks I admired, my own older sister, even. She was very much a wish-fulfillment OC, as I wanted nothing more to be a bad bitch with a soft side who wore cool-ass clothes and had confidence.

And I think I’m finally there. I’m not a rock star by any means, but I have people who follow my music career and love what I do, and that’s enough. I’ve got the looks now — dyeing my hair dark for my 30s was a good move. And in a way, I do feel like I’m the caregiver of a smaller, more innocent me. Sophie was always sort of my “inner child” in a way. I’ve become this character I invented as a little girl, and it’s so cool to see realized.

I keep drawing the Queen of Wands when I ask my tarot decks questions about myself, and I think that’s telling. I’m not superstitious, but I’m a little “-stitious,” so to speak, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence I keep getting this card.

The Queen of Wands represents a fiery, sexy, confident, vivacious woman who knows what she wants and knows how to get it. She is everything I created Anne to be, and I feel like I’m finally seeing those things in myself too.

It took me long enough, but I’m happy with who I am today. In fact, I think that might be a small reason why I’ve had trouble coming up with characters and stories as of late — I’m actually content with who I am and who’s in my life. That’s never happened to me before. It makes me want to hide inside my imagination less. Which is honestly not a good thing for a creative, so I should probably address that sooner rather than later. But in the meantime, I’ll enjoy this contentment.

It’s hard to believe I manifested this version of myself as a lonely 13-year-old girl with a sketchpad and big dreams, but stranger things have happened, ya know? I remember a time when I hated being me, so I feel like I’ve earned this feeling. I hope I continue to evolve into even greater versions of myself as I continue through life, and I’m excited to share that journey with you here.

“Emotional Bloodletting” (Or, Why This Blog Exists in the First Place)

Why do you blog?

Here’s the short answer: so I don’t lose my freakin’ mind.

The long answer is a bit more complicated.

I started this blog back in 2018 (I think). At the time, I was married to someone I wasn’t truly in love with and stuck in a conservative church that increasingly came to represent everything I didn’t want to stand for. I was still fresh out of college with a journalism degree I knew I was never going to use, but I still had the itch to write something. Anything. So my blog, which at the time was titled “I’m sorry I mean it,” simply became me screaming my displeasure with my current life into the void. “I’m sorry I mean it” was a double meaning — “I’m sorry and I mean it,” and “I’m sorry, but I mean what I’m saying.”

Writing has always been a catharsis for me, though, dating back to elementary school. When I was teased mercilessly and ostracized by nearly everyone, I made up characters to serve as “friends” for me. I didn’t have imaginary friends in the traditional sense of the word — I knew these characters were make-believe — but they were real enough to me to fill a void. My long school days were spent daydreaming about these fictional characters, and eventually, their stories spilled onto paper. I’d hurry up and finish my work for the day, then spend the rest of my time fleshing out these characters in stories I dreamed up, usually inspired by whatever I was into at the time. I had a whole series based around three pets trying to get home and the grand adventures they would go on.

My writing is nothing if not derivative, but it’s cool.

That’s part of why I find it harder to write these days. For the first time, I’m genuinely pretty happy. I don’t have to rely on my inner world to satiate my desire for human interaction. I have two amazing partners, a wildly supportive family, and more friends than I know what to do with. But I still love writing to clear my mind on the bad days. It’s how I handle negative emotions, as evidenced by the everything on this blog. If I couldn’t write about my music therapy journey on here, for example, I probably would have lost my mind. The entire experience was so traumatic, I needed to vent about it somehow. Just the act of hitting “publish” on a blog post gives me a sense of relief. As painful as it is to put these emotions down into words, once it’s over, it’s no longer stuck inside me. In a way, it’s emotional bloodletting.

There are other reasons I write too. I realize I have a unique lived experience as a queer polyamorous Christian woman, and I have a platform where I can tell my side of the story. In a world that’s become increasingly hostile to folks breaking the norm, I feel like my words give a voice to a lot of people who aren’t represented in media. I know this from private messages I’ve received. My blog makes people feel seen, and I love it for that reason. My mom always encouraged me to write about socio-political issues — the pen is mightier than the sword, as she would say.

I *know* I’ve made this joke before, but it bears repeating. It’s what Mom would’ve wanted.

Writing, to me, is my biggest catharsis aside from music, and the two often go hand-in-hand. I’ve written some of my best lyrics as a result of emotional turmoil. “Ladies Don’t Start Fights (But They Can Finish Them)” was written about a feud with a former best friend who betrayed my trust. “Queen” was written during a time when my bipolar swung into a deep depression as a way to lift my own spirits. My newest song, “Fake Nice,” is my way of coping with criticism from my partner’s mother, someone whose opinion of me I valued. If I couldn’t write about the things that bother me, I don’t think I would have made it this far in life.

If you’ve been following my blog for any amount of time, I want to personally thank you for being with me through the highs and lows. It hasn’t been an easy few years, and this blog has seen me through some of my worst days. I appreciate the time you’ve taken to read my words and take them to heart. I do this not just for me, but for you, too! This is my way of screaming to the world, “Hey! You’re not alone!” I just want to be a light on someone else’s darkest times. I want people to read this blog and know that they’re in good company, that things will eventually turn out okay with time.

And that’s why I write.

Bloganuary #2: Playtime

We onto day two, alright? So far so good!

Do you play in your daily life? What says “playtime” to you?

I love this prompt because I’m a huge proponent of playtime, whatever that looks like to you. There’s something freeing about being silly and doing things you love in a society that pushes hustle culture and the mentality of “you have to be doing something productive every waking second of the day or else you are wasting your life.” I admit I’m prone to this thinking. For a long time, I didn’t want to play. Or rather, I wanted to, but it felt like a waste of time. What are you accomplishing by simply having fun?

Turns out, quite a bit!

According to Psychology Today, play can be a way for an adult to “reduce stress, promote optimism, and strengthen one’s ability to take on other perspectives.” It’s also a great for socializing, as anyone who’s ever been to a game night with family and friends will tell you. Play is one of my favorite ways to build relationships in my life, and I always end up feeling closer to the people I engage in it with.

Until your mom steals all your stars in Mario Party and she’s suddenly Satan.

As adults, we don’t leave a lot of playtime in our schedule. When we do have free time, it’s usually spent passively consuming media, which isn’t inherently bad, but like food that lacks nutritional value, can be detrimental in high doses. What happened to getting out a big sheet of paper and drawing stuff? Or going outside and playing a sport. Even playing a video game that requires you to use some brain cells is beneficial — research shows that gaming can have a positive effect on memory and attention.

No, I was not wasting my time as a child playing The Sims. I was, uh, working on my cognition.

In my personal life, I try to allot some time every day for play. One of my favorite ways to unwind is art. I’ll be the first to admit I’m not the greatest artist ever (see: my potato-looking oil painting from my most recent blog post), but I find it relaxing and engaging. There’s a certain amount of freedom in doing something just for you. In the past, I’ve attempted to sell my works, but I’ve realized you don’t have to monetize everything you do. It’s okay to do something for fun!

Same with swimming. Back when I lived in Michigan, I had a membership to a gym with a pool, and I’d go every morning just to splash around and doggy paddle from one end of the pool to the other until I got tired. I wasn’t doing it to train for the Olympics or even just to stay in shape. I did it because I just liked it. I liked the feel of the water, the feel of floating, the way being in the pool took me back to an innocent time when I’d splash around in my backyard pool as a child.

And of course, I play video games. I typically enjoy simulation games like Stardew Valley, The Sims, and Animal Crossing, games where I can feel a sense of control over the world and everything that happens in it. People really underestimate the power of imagination! Using our uniquely human ability to create entire worlds is the closest thing we’ll ever experience to being God, and I think in a way, it brings us closer to the Divine, however that looks for you. I love creating characters and telling stories, which has been a human phenomenon for time immemorial. The ability to engage in imaginative play is what makes us, well, us.

These are just a few examples from my life, and I hope they inspire you to find your own form of playtime. How do you “play” as an adult? Feel free to tell me in the comments!

“Perfection is the Enemy of Completion”: My NaNoWriMo Experience So Far

I realize I haven’t been very active on here as of late. That’s for a couple of reasons. First of all, I’ve been busy packing and preparing for the move to Fort Wayne this January, which is rapidly approaching. To be honest, clearing out our apartment and getting together all the things we’ll need for the sixth months of the internship is kind of a full time job. Especially when you’re me and have an ungodly amount of clothes. Like, dragon hoard levels of clothing.

Most importantly, I’ve been working on NaNoWriMo this year. Will I actually finish a novel? Probably not, if I’m being realistic. I restarted my story like five times already and decided to ditch it altogether for an idea I had like a year ago, so there’s that.

I haven’t actually finished a story since elementary school. When I was a kid, I’d come up with stories all the time, and while the teacher was rattling off about long division, I was busy penning the first great children’s book written by an actual child. I was kind of legendary among the staff at my school for my precocious writing abilities. It was one of the few things I was good at, because God knows “obeying social norms” and “paying attention in class” was not among those things.

I still remember the series I sunk my heart and soul into: The Great Adventure. Creative name, I know. And the plot was equally creative — three pets get lost and have to find their way home. No, I definitely didn’t steal the idea from Homeward Bound.

As I got older, the stories I came up with got more complex, and the middle school teachers I had weren’t as keen on me writing during class, so I just kind of…stopped. For a while at least. When I finally picked up the pen again, or rather, booted up the word processor on my family’s shiny new computer for the first time, I found myself unable to get past the first chapter of, well, anything. All of my amazing story ideas were dead on arrival.

I think as I got older, I lost that sense of fun I had when it came to writing. Now that I was in my teens, and eventually twenties and thirties, I held myself to higher standards than I did as a child. Everything had to be perfect. I couldn’t half-ass anything, lest the entire project turn to dog crap. I couldn’t even write a few pages without having to revise everything and eventually rewrite what I had altogether.

For NaNoWriMo this year, I decided to try something different. I have this character from the project I’ve been working on (that I’ll probably never finish) named Tessa, and she’s canonically thirteen years old at the start of the story. I thought to myself, what if I write the story from her perspective? Perhaps writing from the point of view of a literal child will allow me to get into that headspace I had when I was a kid, when I could write anything. There was room for errors because hey, I was a kid. I don’t have to hold myself up to these ridiculous standards because realistically, a thirteen year old’s diary would be a trainwreck of ideas and stream of conscious blathering.

And so far, it’s been working. I’m kind of excited to follow this character through seven years and watch her grow. I plan to adjust my writing as she gets older, which will be a fun experiment in style. I don’t think I’ll finish this project by the end of November, but I’m off to a great start finally creating something, anything.

My girlfriend often tells me perfection is the enemy of completion, and it’s better for something to be published and imperfect than flawless but unpublished. What use are stories if no one ever gets to hear them? For once, I want to finish something I’ve started, and I’m feeling good about this one.

Without further ado, here’s a little snippet of what I’ve been working on:

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Dr. Roberta told me to start keeping a journal to track how I’m feeling every day. She also told me to stop selling my Adderall to the high schoolers. Welp.

My mom bought me this college-ruled notebook from Meijer. It’s got enough pages to last until I’m like, twenty. The front has a bunch of flowers and crap. (Wait, am I allowed to say that?! Crap crap crap CRAP!) I don’t really know what I’m doing as far as writing goes. Do I just write down whatever pops into my big dumb head? Do I address this to anyone? Like, “Dear Diary, this is Tessa Mae Harlow reporting on my boring life.” I don’t even know what to write about. I’m thirteen, I’m not interesting yet.

I’m writing this from the stoop of the old brick house down the street. I usually come here after school to get away from my parents and brother and listen to the cassette tapes my mom passed down to me. That is, if I’m not hanging out with Kit or going to youth group for the evening. The house itself was built in the 20s I think. It’s “has a radiator in the living room” old. Sometimes I sneak through the window when I’m feeling brave and take pictures of the interior. It was probably a pretty place in its prime, but now it’s what you’d call dilapidated. “Dilapidated,” incidentally, was one of the words I had to spell for the spelling bee last year, and the definition is “decayed, deteriorated, or fallen into partial ruin especially through neglect or misuse.” I could spell that, but not “below.” I’m still salty about that.

Yeah, I’m having a lot of fun with this. I’ll keep y’all posted.

Richie Sambora Had a Charizard (And Other Tales From My Childhood)

I’ve been doing a series of healing prompts in my personal journal. The topics are meant to probe into your soul and reveal stuff about you, or something deep like that. Anyways, the first prompt in the journal was “What did you like to do as a child?” And well…

I was a weird kid. I would often read the dictionary and encyclopedia for fun. I remember curling up with my grandma’s Encyclopedia Brittanica collection and reading about whatever interested me at the time (and sex, because of course!). I also liked drawing out ideas for inventions and projects I wanted to do, like a bird circus or a flying couch. At night, I’d put on my favorite Richie Sambora CD or the local classic rock station and play The Sims for hours until I fell asleep. I enjoyed making Sims and killing them off, not because I was a terrible sadist as a child, but because killing them would turn them into ghosts, and I wanted to make haunted houses. I also liked putting on my headphones and pacing around the house listening to my favorite songs. With friends, I enjoyed playing make-believe, usually pretending to be our favorite musicians, pro wrestlers, anime characters, and/or Pokémon. (It was an odd cast of characters.) I liked writing down the ideas for stories I had in my head and often dreamed about becoming the youngest author ever. I didn’t like to read because I was too busy making my own books!

Yeah, I was weird as heck.

I’ve written quite a bit about my childhood on here, but I don’t think I’ve ever talked about my elephant-sized imagination as a kid. Anyone who came in contact with me knew about the endless worlds in my head, about my stories and make-believe games. I’d talk about them anyone who’d listen, from my mom to the lady checking us out at Kmart (especially the lady checking us out at Kmart). And all two of my friends naturally had to take part in my shenanigans.

We had this game, right? We called it Pokémon and Friends. The first part is obvious. We’d play as Pokémon. Pretty straightforward. Where it gets interesting is the “and Friends” part. That could mean anyone. Like I said in the prompt, the characters ranged from Bon Jovi to Jennifer Lopez to some pro wrestlers to Goku and even the witches from Charmed, if anyone actually remembers that show.

The Sanderson sisters, but hot and without the whole “eating children” schtick.

We’d play that stupid game from dawn to dusk if we could, pretending to be all these random characters as Pokémon trainers. I can still remember every single Pokémon each character had (Richie Sambora had a Charizard, for one). The game followed us on vacation, and if we watched an interesting movie, we’d adapt the plot to whatever storyline we were working on. There were so many intricacies, I had to start writing them down.

And that’s how I got into writing.

As we got older, my friends lost interest in Pokémon and Friends, but I still had a million stories going in my head at once. So I changed the names of the characters, filed off the serial numbers, so to speak, and wrote them back to life in my own works. Most of those stories are lost to time or remained unfinished, but some of the character archetypes and plot lines made it into the stories I’m still working on today.

I guess I have to credit Baby Jess for her creativity, and Adult Jess for never letting it die. I hope I never lose that simple joy of creating.

ADHD: An Owner’s Manual (Part Four: Habits You Can Keep!)

I’ll admit I haven’t been keeping up on my ADHD: An Owner’s Manual posts as much as I’d like. It’s almost like I have ADHD! Who’d a thunk it, right?

Nevertheless, I want to get back into writing these again, since I know a lot of people found them useful. When the daily prompt of “habits” came up, I figured it was a perfect opportunity to jump into some of my own personal habits for success with ADHD. These are simply habits that work for me, but feel free to borrow any or all of them for your personal life.

Without further ado…

What are your daily habits?

1. Read

This one is so important. I’ve always been an avid reader, usually of nonfiction. There’s so much out there to learn that it feels neglectful not to study a topic of interest a little bit every day. My habit tracker simply says “read,” but I try to aim for at least a page of something a day. That typically turns into several pages, maybe even several chapters, but the most important thing is getting your foot in the door with just a single page.

Here’s the cheat for ADHD — it doesn’t need to be a physical book. The cool thing about having a phone with you at all times is you can download whatever you want to read and have it in your pocket at all times. Whip it out whenever you have a spare moment. Hint: bathroom breaks are perfect for reading.

Another trick is to pick a topic that interests you. If you’re like me and have something (like a badass glam emo band) to promote, look into a book on digital marketing like One Million Followers by Brendan Kane. If you want to improve your communication skills, How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie is a classic. If you want to better yourself as a whole, I highly recommend Atomic Habits by James Clear or Eat That Frog! by Brian Tracy. Another one of my favorite authors is Austin Kleon, whose books should be essential reading for any creative. Whatever book you choose, make sure it’s interesting to you!

2. Study a Language

Languages are the building block of human civilization — so why does there have to be so freaking many of them?! I’ve been to Sunday school, I know the story. A bunch of ancient assholes ruined it for us as always, right?

The downside of there being a bazillion languages is that a portion of humanity is essentially behind a paywall, and the price you have to pay is hours upon hours of studying a foreign language. But as daunting as the task is, learning languages can be fun! Gone are the days of burying your face in a book and trying to figure out how to conjugate verbs on your own. Modern technology has game-ified language learning, which makes it accessible to even the most ADHD among us.

There’s two apps I regularly use — Duolingo and Drops. Duolingo is better for grammar, Drops for vocabulary. Both are good options and certainly be used together. As for which language to learn, that’s up to you. Obviously anything that uses the Roman alphabet is going to be easier for the most part, but if you want a challenge, take up something that uses a different writing system. I did the latter, choosing Arabic, which has the added bonus of being the second language of many of my coworkers. That’s another consideration — do you have people to practice with? Consider choosing a language many people in your area speak.

3. Clean a Thing

That’s it. That’s the habit. Just pick one thing in your dwelling space and put it where it belongs, or give it a good scrub. You don’t need to make an entire ordeal of it, and just cleaning a little every day will make cleaning your entire home less daunting. Sometimes cleaning one thing will snowball into cleaning another thing, then another, and another, but the important part is initiating the act of cleaning. Breaking up huge, seemingly impossible tasks into bite-sized pieces like this helps me to keep a clean apartment.

4. Do Something Creative

That’s it! I make it a point to either write or do art every single day. Whatever your passion is, indulge yourself in it daily for at least five minutes — and don’t stop yourself if you get lost in the sauce and want to keep going. Again, the trick is to overcome that executive dysfunction and get started, and once you’re in the zone, don’t fight it. Use your hyperfocusing powers to your advantage.

It’s crucial to do this every day if you can. Think of it in terms of identity. For a long time, I called myself a writer — but I barely wrote anything! What good is calling yourself a writer if you don’t, you know, write? Put your identity first. What do you want to be? A painter? A musician? A dancer? A chef? Once you establish who you are, be that kind of person, which means doing whatever it is that person does. Being and doing are intertwined. Ask yourself every day, “What would a real (insert whatever it is you want to be here) do with their free time?” Then do it!

My artist wife has a saying — “You gotta want it every day.” She makes it a point to draw at least one illustration a day, even when she’s having a creative block. Just doing something is better than nothing. It’s all about building those little habits.

5. Get Moving

This is another important one. It’s no secret that we ADHDers benefit from exercise. The CDC recommends 150 minutes of physical activity a week with two days of strength training. While that seems like a lot, it breaks down to less than a half hour a day if you do it every day.

Going to the gym might be a good idea for concentration purposes. If you try to work out at home, you’ll be fighting off every distraction imaginable, from video game console on your tv stand to the sweet siren call of your bed.

When choosing a gym, your number one consideration should be location, location, location. You want to remove as few obstacles as possible and make the habit as obvious as possible. If you’re torn between an LA Fitness you pass every day on your commute and a Planet Fitness that’s five minutes out of the way, drop that little extra for the LA Fitness. Speaking of making your exercise habit as easy as possible to maintain, keep some running shoes and workout clothes in your car at all times. If you have to run home to grab them, well…

Our natural ability to double task is useful for working out because we can easily get our cardio in while reading or watching Netflix. Also, music is a great reward for working out — listening to your favorite songs while putting in the work makes time go by faster. And if going to the gym is out of the question for whatever reason, just taking tiny steps to stay in shape still helps. Take the stairs, ride your bike, do some morning stretches, whatever gets you moving. As I always say, small victories are still victories.

Do you have any daily habits? Feel free to comment them below!

If you enjoy my writing and want to help support me and this site, you can donate via Venmo (@jessjsalisbury) or CashApp ($TheJessaJoyce). Every little bit is greatly appreciated! Thanks for taking the time to read my work, and don’t forget to check back every few days for new content!

The Creative Grind: What You Should Be Doing Every Day

There’s only two types of people in the world — the ones that entertain and the ones that observe. Is that a direct quote from a Britney Spears song? Maybe. Whatever. Just stick with me here.

You see, my problem is this. I’m dreaming away—

—wishing I had a stable career as a writer, or musician, or really anything creative. Like, I’ve been streaming “let’s play” content in a dog costume because at this point, I’m just throwing spaghetti at the fridge and seeing what sticks.

And let’s face it, I make an adorable doggo.

And I’m not alone in these dreams. Last night, I was sitting in a dear friend’s living room with my wife discussing how we wished we could make a living off of our creative endeavors, me as a musician and writer, my wife as an artist, and my friend as an actress and playwright. That’s when my wife shared a gem of wisdom.

“You gotta do it every day. Even when it’s hard.”

She’s been practicing what she preaches too, drawing even just a small doodle on days when she feels uninspired. And it’s been paying off — her art has been getting way more attention lately, just because of the sheer volume of work she’s putting out into the world. I could make an entire separate blog post about the benefits of being prolific when it comes to putting your work out there, but in this post, I mostly just want to focus on how your perspectives change when you’re forced to work every day.

Like I previously said (or rather, like Britney said), there are two types of people in the world — those who entertain, and those who observe. Creators vs. consumers. And the difference isn’t necessarily creativity. Lots of creators really aren’t that creative, and lots of consumers have plenty of latent creativity waiting in the wings. No, what separates the two categories is the willingness to put in the work, to make something happen. Saying you’re doing something isn’t the same as doing it. You can call yourself a writer all you want, but if you never write, you’re actually a liar, and nobody likes those.

The solution is to constantly engage yourself in your creative interest. Every. Single. Day. It seems daunting at first, but it’s the only way to progress in your field. The trick is to build up whatever it is you want to do into a habit, even just a tiny one.

In James Clear’s book “Atomic Habits” (which I highly recommend), it is suggested that one find the initial spark of what it is you want to do, and turn that into a habit. Maybe you want to run more, but running a marathon seems too out of reach. Make your daily habit putting on running shoes. Put those shoes in the way of your door so you don’t forget. You might not necessarily go for a run, but you made that first step, and once you cross that line, you’re more likely to actually go for a run. It’s all about getting past that threshold.

This can work for just about any creative endeavor. Wanna write more? Just open up your word processor once a day. Maybe read through some past stuff. For convenience, do your writing on whatever device you use most. I’m writing this on my phone while sitting on the toilet, as a matter of fact. I’ve made a habit of just opening up my writing software whenever I have to, uh, answer nature’s call. Which is more frequently than I’d like to admit, but it’s good for my writing output.

IBS stands for “incredible blogging skills,” obviously.

If you make it a point to even just get a tiny bit better at your craft every single day, over several weeks or months or years, you’ll see exponential improvement in your skills. You just have to force yourself to do the thing, even on days when it feels like an impossible task. Carve out even a few minutes a day to practice or write or draw or what-have-you. Even if it’s not presentable, at least you did something for the day, and that’s what matters. It’s all about keeping up that inertia — the more you do it, the more you’ll keep doing it.

So my challenge to you this week is to find a way to make your creative passion into a daily habit. Find ways to make that habit unavoidable, and keep up that creative grind. It’ll all pay off in the end.