a vision board party to ring in 2023
even if you don't manifest a hot Californian, you'll still have something pretty above your desk
Welcome to Write More! This is the your mid-month pop-in, which comes with ideas, encouragement, and writing prompts to keep you going. I also send out a monthly intentions email on the last Sunday before a new month starts that aims to help you think through your goals and intentions for your writing practice in the coming month and to reflect on your progress in the previous month.
If you’d like to join us, subscribe here!
Today’s newsletter is a wild mix of the practical—I’m writing to invite you to a virtual gathering, our very first synchronous get-together in the nearly three years (!!!) we’ve been writing together and building this community—and the woo-woo:
we’re making vision boards for 2023
Hear me out: it surprises no one more than me that I’ve become a vision board person. Some of you reading are my real life, in-person friends and are probably surprised to learn this about me. It’s not that I believe in manifesting things. I don’t think you can just clip some pictures, gluestick them to cardboard, and think you’ve placed an Amazon Prime order with the universe. What I do believe in is the power of naming what you want and working to make it happen.
I've been making a vision board for the year in January for the last three years. I started—sort of—inspired by a newsletter from Leigh Stein unfortunately titled "Manifest yr dreams in 2020" (womp womp). But that first year, I was so timid. I found the whole thing—clipping photos, daring to have a vision for the year—embarrassing. I picked two images from a magazine nearly at random, and I glued them inside my planner. And then I shut the cover. Did you catch that? I made a nervous, half-hearted little collage, and then I closed it up, hidden even from myself. That might actually be the opposite of a vision board.
Since then, I’ve gotten bolder and less afraid of cutting out images of hearts and dollar bills and phrases like “time to shine” and pasting them on a big piece of cardboard and hanging the whole shebang above my desk. I’ve been inspired in part by Leigh, who held a really fun zoom vision board party in 2021 and shared this fun Marie Claire article about vision boards (by a vision board skeptic who manifested herself a hot Californian husband!). I don’t know that a craft project can make magic happen. But I do believe in naming your ambitions. (And even if it doesn’t get you a seven-figure book deal, you’ll still have something pretty to hang above your desk.)
if you want to help other writers make a bold craft project vision for their year, click the heart at the top or bottom of the email to help them find us!
Here's the plan: we'll meet via zoom on Thursday, January 5 from 7-8pm eastern. I'll share some big ideas for why and how to make your vision board, give you a peek at mine from the last two years (that feels very personal! but I will share with you all!), then we'll work away.
You'll want to have a big piece of paper or poster board, some magazines you can cut up, and a glue stick. If you’re interested, you can register at this link. After registering, you will receive a confirmation email containing information about joining the meeting. And you’re welcome to bring a friend (virtually or in your actual home) and to share this invitation with anyone else you think would like a little vision at the beginning of the year.
Write More, Be Less Careful is a newsletter about why writing is hard & how to do it anyway. Have you ever made a vision board? I’d love to hear about it! Reply to this email, comment below, or find me on twitter (@nancy_reddy) and instagram (@nancy.o.reddy).
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