Rhymes with Camera: Alchemy for writers
How I identify, own, and synthesize the uncertainty of the times to fuel what I think is a radical act: storytelling
I’m not going to get into post-election thoughts, except to answer a question someone recently asked me.
“How are you not traumatized?
How are you still so hopeful?”
IS IT OPTIMISM, TOXIC POSITIVITY, OR SOMETHING ELSE?
The lazy answer is, it’s just how I’m programmed. I inherited my sunny, “little Mary Sunshine” proclivities from my mother, also named Mary.
Though I’ve been through some dark periods in my life (more on this in a sec), I’ve always seen the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.
“Prepare for the worst, hope for the best” is a pretty accurate description of my ethos.
That doesn’t make me naïve. It just means my north star will always have hope for better attached to its tail.
Others have also, oddly enough, described me variously as a “beacon,” “candleflame,” “bright light,” or “lantern.” It’s easy to lean into that persona.
WHERE THERE’S LIGHT, THERE’S SHADOW
But this doesn’t mean I don’t experience all the valleys and shadows like everyone else.
Far from it! I live with (treated) generalized depression. I also, because I’m in the PNW, deal with seasonal affective disorder (SAD) in the dark seasons.
Those conditions alone sometimes put me in a place I like to call “the basement” every once and again, where I sit and live with all the creepy-crawly, wormy-squirmy feelings that depression brings.
And I think that’s okay. I do. I do not believe any emotion itself is negative or bad.
I think all emotions are different ways we channel our energy.
Sometimes that energy is “low vibe” (like depression, or dread, or anxiety, or anger).
And sometimes that energy is “high vibe” (like joy, hope, contentment, or bliss).
So imagine me sitting in that dark basement, staring down the cold prickly feelings that come with SAD.
Eventually (and ideally sooner rather than later), I come back upstairs to soak in the light of day, to get back to the act of living, almost always bringing with me the bits and pieces of the very low-vibe energy I’ve just wallowed in.
Not because I want to cling to my shadows, but because I want to alchemize the energy they bring.
ON THE CARE AND FEEDING OF NEW STORIES
In our co-hosted writers podcast, Beneath the Rain Shadow, author Clay Vermulm and I often bring up the idea of “story seeds.”
In that application, the term means “the little details that pop up in our drafts that have the potential to either inform the story or even take on a life of their own” (more or less).
If we’re paying attention, we as writers can cultivate “story seeds” into living narrative threads that bring depth and meaning to our work.
As a creative person, however, “story seeds” take on a slightly different meaning beyond this.
In this context, I try to farm my own emotional life—including those low points—for energy to feed my creative life.
If you can imagine low-vibe energy as a kind of emotional “compost,” it’s not hard to imagine tossing low-vibe “dirt” onto a newly planted “story seed” in an effort to nourish its growth and give it an anchor.
Meanwhile, high-vibe energy can also be used to coax a “story seed” into full blossom: think of these resources as if they are water, light, and warmth.
ALCHEMY FOR WRITERS
What I’m talking about here is very personal work, “shadow work,” this excavating of my own fears, traumas, pain, and the like. One of the side effects of this is that story ideas come from this work (as do personal solutions for personal problems).
One of the things I also do (that not everybody does) is this: when I’m feeling low, I let the emotions exist and simply watch them. I listen. I let them wash over me until I can get a sense of what they are.
I feel them.
Trust me, really paying attention to your emotions,
including the darkest ones, doesn’t mean you’re surrendering to them;
instead, it means you’re learning to accept and have agency over them.
Once I identify an unpleasant emotion—let’s pick uncertainty, which everyone seems to be knocking up against these days—I note how it impacts my energy.
While I don’t have anxiety disorder, I do know how feelings of anxiety can amplify the way my overall energy feels. It impacts my sleep, it shows up as impatience, as pessimism. I get snippy. I want control.
After years of writing—not only for creative expression but also in a therapeutic way, to wrangle overwhelming feelings and personal traumas—I’ve come to feel “a certain kind of way” about low-vibe emotions.
They are gifts, truth be told.
I welcome them, because I have learned to use the energy they bring to drive my creative life.
FROM RAW TO REFINED
I mean this quite literally.
While other people may find themselves currently frozen by uncertainty, or distracted by it, or wish to flee from the real world, I find it far more satisfying to turn that uncertainty into fuel for creativity.
I sit down and synthesize those dark feelings of “what if?” and “how?” and “what’s next?” into energy I can burn as I write.
Examples from Cul de Sac Stories might make this more clear.
In “Shrapnel Over Chicago: August 1989,” the original emotions I refined into usable fuel to write that story were the fear and lack of control I felt after moving to Chicago and having to adapt to tornado season.
In “Madam’s Curse,” the original emotions I refined into usable fuel to write that story were concerns about sleepwalking (which went away after I had children, thankfully!) and a creeping distrust of crowds and the media (especially difficult, as I’m a journalist by trade).
In “Blood Tunnel,” the original emotions I refined into usable fuel to write that story include a powerful postpartum “download” I can only describe as collective ancestral emotion, which I would label “high vibe,” along with the low-vibe fear of losing one’s children through some stupid or irresponsible act. (Refining can be used for all kinds of emotional energy, not just the low-vibe kind.)
I think what happens in this act of refinement is that the dribs and drabs of emotion I bring up from the basement end up enriching the emotional layers of my work, whether it’s stories, poetry, film, or essays.
WHAT READERS CRAVE: A BOWL OF YOUR STEW
Readers appreciate, even need, a rich emotional landscape, which often includes, of necessity, the tension arising from uncertainty.
As a writer, you naturally strive to season your story with emotional energy. It’s what gives unique flavor to your voice and vision, what makes your writing stand out from the rest.
It’s your recipe, after all, right? Something only you could make.
This makes me think of archetypes (that’s just how my brain works, ha!).
I imagine my story as a cauldron filled with ingredients of my choosing: images, feelings, light, shadow, texture, dimension, and sensual details made familiar or foreign by my intentional use of them.
What happens when you alchemize these ingredients? You also end up with a stew. Your stew.
LET’S GET THAT CAULDRON BOILING
Yes, uncertainty bugs me, too. I’m still processing what I’m comfortable not knowing in these post-election days.
Meanwhile, I’m using the energy that it stirs in my solar plexus (itself a kind of cauldron, am I right?) to turn words and images into stories. It’s the best way I know how to deal with challenging times.
I know it requires all manner of feelings to pass through my filters first. There’s no escaping the vibes, both low and high. I still have to face my darkest fears along with my brightest hopes.
But from that, I watch and learn, then harvest this energy and use it to create something better. Something bigger than I am. (At least, that is the goal.)
WHAT’S IN MY STEW FOR EARLY 2025
This is how I’ll spend these next few months.
I’m taking a blog break from December 15 to February 15. I may only appear infrequently in social media.
Meanwhile, I’ll revisit my novel in progress (Eminent Domain), revise stories for submission, work on Rain Shadows (coming next May!), and catch up on lots of reading (another way to “flavor” one’s writing—inspiration).
I hope you find your own inspiration from these thoughts and decided to feed some of your own “story seeds” or cook up an entire new story stew over the holidays and into the next year… uncertainty be damned.
I say this a lot in social media to writers who struggle and need direction, and I’ll say it here again: Alchemize that shit.
“You seem so prolific. Do you ever experience burnout?”
Answer: “One can be both! I am, and always have been, prolific. Note: That doesn’t mean what I generate is all that good. I value my revision skills over my ability to write a lot, thankfully.
Yes, burnout happens all the time. It’s inevitable! I’ve gone through periods of it my whole life…” READ MORE at: Ask Me Anything for November
I skipped my MS Stories for November, deciding to celebrate the 4th “book birthday” of Intention Tremor: A Hybrid Collection, which first arrived in boxes on my front porch on November 12, 2020 [link]
SUBSTACK FINDS
What I found while reading my morning paper (aka Substack): November Substack Finds [November 15, 2024]
These particular posts inspire mobilizing, shifts in perspective, and yes, gratitude… (I also reflect a bit on alchemizing as a way to defend against doomscrolling and inaction during hard times)
NEW SECTION AND TITLES ADDED FOR NOVEMBER 2024!
Introducing RESISTANCE READER: HOPEPUNK & BEYOND
In the wake of the 2024 election, a lot of people I know are trying to understand “how we got here,” while others are looking for “how to get to the next station.”
In this new collection at The Sellman Shelf in BookShop, I’ve included more than 40 diverse titles in nonfiction for those seeking knowledge, disruptive thinking, perspective, history, and inspiration as we move into a new shift in 2025.
You’ll find historical and philosophical classics, hopeful visionary works, activist handbooks, inquiries into technological ethics, seeds of truthtelling, examples of resistance, and other perspectives that linger in the spaces of ecofeminism, AI, utopian leanings, spiritual guidance, and more on this newest shelf.
Might you have titles to suggest? Send them my way!
Might you have already read and enjoyed these books? Why not give their authors a nice review in BookShop? It really helps them to be found and appreciated by readers.
DECEMBER: WHAT’S HAPPENING
Dec 5: Beneath the Rain Shadow December episode drops, Tamara on the hot seat! [link]
Dec 14: A Midwinter Haunting, with the Seattle Chapter of the HWA, Kirkland [link]
Jan 5: Beneath the Rain Shadow January episode drops, Clay on the hot seat! [link]
Check out my detailed calendar
LINK LOVE
Beneath the Rain Shadow podcast
Jan: Meet Tamara & Clay
Feb: “Nurse Log” by Tamara Sellman
Mar: “Gåva” by Clay Vermulm
Apr: “Meow Meow” by Tamara Sellman
May: “Problem Child” by Clay Vermulm
Jun: “Hellmark” by Tamara Sellman
Jul: “The Mystical Menagerie” by Clay Vermulm
Aug: “Leave No Trace” by Tamara Sellman
Sept: “Welcome Aboard” by Clay Vermulm
Oct: “Shanghai” by Tamara Sellman
Nov: “Faultine” by Clay Vermulm
Dec: “Ghosting” by Tamara Sellman
Find me in Social media [link]
PNW GALLERY
Meet “My-celium Friends,” November 2024
I shot all of these different types of mushrooms on my walks and hikes just using my iPhone. I cannot name any of these except for the blue inky cap (the one with the frilly edges in the center).
One resolution for 2025: Learn the names of my fungi frenz!
GARDEN TO KITCHEN
HEARTY HOMEMADE MUSHROOM LEEK SOUP
And speaking of mushrooms…
Chez Sellman made it through the bomb cyclone event here in the PNW mostly unscathed.
It was two days after the big—and I do mean BIG—winds blew through that the power clicked off and didn’t come back on again for another 10 hours. Not the worst situation, as the stove and fireplace are gas and, in a pinch, there’s a generator to hook up.
But I wasn’t feeling the need. I lit a bunch of candles, pulled several leeks from my garden, and came up with this amazing soup. I didn’t have power to operate a hand blender to turn this into a cream soup, but it really didn’t need it; the chunks of mushrooms in the leek-rich broth with cream were really quite satisfying on their own.
Click here to access this recipe through my new dedicated Garden to Table recipe page.
TINY LITTLE HOLIDAY GIFT IDEA PLUG
You can still buy both Intention Tremor and Cul de Sac Stories through my established channels.
If you want signed copies of either of these from me, please order no later than December 15 to ensure they arrive in time for Christmas or Hannukah. I can even gift wrap them for you, if you wish!
I also have work out in two different anthologies you might be interested in:
True Stories VI—Essays about people overcoming great odds, from Sidekick Press, Jan 2024 (My essay “Outer Limits” describes a curious solo hiking encounter I had)
Lurking—Short horror stories about the dangers of the cyberverse, from Inky Bones Press, Sept 2024 (My story “Lather, Rinse, Repeat” is an intense stalking story with a twist)
ONWARD TO 2025
As I described earlier, December through February I’ll be hunkering down, focused on my writing projects as well as some early garden planning for the year 2025. Somewhere in there I hope to inoculate my first mushroom log and grow me some King Oyster mushrooms!
For the holidays, it will also be low-key and quiet around here. The house lights are up and there will be a tree. The girls will be here for Xmas, and my new neighbors are throwing a Solstice party (sweet!).
I’m back to hiking in the cold as frequently as I can to keep up my connection with the trees (just did 3.2 miles today!).
Later, in February, I head back to Lake Quinault for another Rainforest Writers Village retreat (hoping for more snow).
Wishing you a peaceful, restful holiday season and hope you’ll find ways to alchemize your uncertainty into something beautiful, tasty, creative, and hopeful!
Happy December,
Tamara
So nice to meet you! Excited to check out your podcast. 😍