Hello, Overthinkers!
When did you last feel the singular joy of letting something go?
dead leaves cover ground regrets bloom like ghost berries then wither away
My publisher is unhappy that I’ve forgotten to plug my Horror Haiku book this Spooky Season. Horror Haiku has over 500 poems (but no comics) that explore the dark side of life, while always leaving at least a glimmer of hope. Each poem is like a mini horror story. Horror Haiku is part poetry and part flash fiction. As one fan put it:
"Jason's work is wonderfully disturbing."
This poetry collection is not for the faint of heart. Inside you will find both ferocious creatures and human monsters. You will discover new phobias. Reading this may give you the sensation that the walls on closing in, that your house is full of sinister, unexplained noises, and that the spider you lost track of is in your bed. Proceed at your own risk.
It’s available in ebook and paperback. Click here to see all of your buying options.
The Joy of Quitting
I love quitting. I encourage my kids to frequently quit. I quit all the time.
I come from a long line of diehard (literally) stickerouters. Some of my ancestors froze to death while crossing the plains on the way to what they believed to be the promised land in the 1850s. My father hated it when his children gave any sign of quitting.
He loved to tell us that the only people who ever accomplished anything were the ones who persevered. And he was right, sort of. But, I’ve been working hard to correct my generational trauma.
Success in just about anything takes a lot of hard work, time, and luck. However, the most successful people also happen to have quit a lot of things. Bill Gates dropped out of college, as did many other billionaire tech giants.
Many of the most talented professional athletes also quit college early.
The only thing worse than quitting something too soon is sticking with something too long. So few of our decisions around quitting are permanent. You can go back to college if the band or startup doesn't work out. You can un-quit just about anything.
How do you know when to quit? I think your gut knows. How do you feel when you think about quitting? Does it bring feelings of relief or regret?
If you feel relief, take that as a sign you need to move on.
G, my penultimate child, is a 14-year-old freshman. He’s a talented trumpet player. He’s the first chair in the freshman band and his band director wants him to play in every band the high school has. G tried the optional jazz band that meets before school. This required him to get up early. After a few weeks, he asked me if he could quit. The jazz band has a different director than the freshman band, and the jazz band leader is a shouter. G said he doesn’t want to wake up early to get yelled at. Fair enough.
I love that he has the presence of mind to set boundaries at such a young age.
I’ve quit all kinds of things. Sometimes during a freelance copywriting project, clients get a little squirrely. If a client mistreats me, I quit the project midstream without guilt. The second I refund any unearned money I feel a huge weight lifted from my soul. Life is too short and there are too many other options for me to put up with that.
Some of the things that have caused me the greatest pain and suffering were things I didn’t quit soon enough. I kept lawyering until I had a nervous breakdown, even though I was unhappy with the career choice from my first semester in law school. Sticking that out just ended up costing me my health and a lot of money.
There are also things that I haven’t quit. I’ve kept at Weirdo Poetry, which started with the publication of my Pirate Haiku book in 2016 that almost nobody read. There were years when I had less than twenty people who cared anything about what I was creating.
Now more people are reading and supporting my poetry and comics than have ever read anything else I’ve ever done.
Why do I keep hammering away at this when I’ve quit so many other things?
The difference was when I thought about quitting my poetry and comics I felt sorrow and pain.
I’m compelled to work on this stuff. It’s what drives me. I would, and have for years, do it for free and to an audience as small as my closest friends and family.
However, because I have persevered, grown my skills, and attracted more readers, doing the work is sweeter now than ever. I feel your energy every time I sit down to write or draw. Hearing from you about how my work makes you feel, fuels me to get better and make more stuff.
However, I would never have been able to keep going with Weirdo Poetry if I hadn’t quit a bunch of other things along the way. I’ve quit two other newsletters, writing non-fiction books and articles about freelancing, Medium, and freelance copywriting twice.
If there is a secret to life, I think it might be to keep quitting things until you find something you don’t want to quit.
Be the weird you want to see in the world!
Cheers,
Jason
Love this! I used to be against quitting, but quitting my dreadful first marriage and feeling like I could breathe again opened my eyes. Quitting my portrait photography biz when I finally admitted my heart wasn't in it took away a load of stress. I convinced my husband to quit his awful job to join me on a long-term travel adventure. He fought it, but now he thanks me every day. Quitting is a great form of self care!
"Jason's work is wonderfully disturbing." Now that's a great compliment!