Productivity Is For Robots: How To (re)Connect, Get Creative, And Stay Human In The New World by Corey McComb

Productivity Is For Robots: How To (re)Connect, Get Creative, And Stay Human In The New World by Corey McComb

Author:Corey McComb [McComb, Corey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-11-16T20:00:00+00:00


Heartbreaks and Error Pages

There was once a little girl named Joanne. Joanne had big dreams, big imagination, and big pressure from her parents. She wanted to be a storyteller. They just wanted her to be rich and obedient. They’d been poor, didn’t want it for her. Didn’t think imagination could pay the bills. Who could blame them?

Joanne went to college and studied just enough. She still wanted to write stories. Ideas scratched at her brain. They said, this way, this way. Joanne wrote when she could and when she couldn’t write she thought about writing.

After college, Joanne got a job and a commute. The commute was a train. The train was time to think. A new idea came. It said this way, this way. She wrote it on a napkin. One napkin became two. Soon, a notebook filled.

Then Joanne’s mother got sick, terribly sick, mother didn’t make it. Joanne’s father turned away, became estranged, he was gone. Goodbye Mom, goodbye Dad. That was the first time Joanne’s heart broke, it wouldn’t be the last.

Joanne saw an ad for a new job in a new country. She packed her bags. She worked all day, she wrote all night. The writing helped her make sense, helped her feel better. This time she’d stick with it, this time she wouldn’t stop.

But then Joanne met a man, he was a nice man, he was nice enough. They fell in love, got married, had a miscarriage. Another broken heart. They tried again and had a daughter, a beautiful daughter, a daughter named Jessica. Life made sense again, just until it didn’t.

Joanne’s nice man wasn’t so nice anymore. Yelling, threats, abuse. Friends worried, cops came. Restraining orders, life shattered, another broken heart. Joanne took baby Jessica and left. Where could they go? No money, no partner, two mouths to feed. She had a sister and a brother-in-law. Could she stay near them? She went to stay near them.

Joanne got on welfare. She hit rock bottom, became her parents’ worst nightmare. She thought about her mother, thought about her daughter, thought about killing herself. Maybe Father was right. Joanne went to bed guilty, woke up angry. She wore her pain like a scar on her forehead. She was the biggest failure she’d ever met, the biggest failure ever.

But Joanne had her daughter, had her napkins, had a briefcase with a half-finished novel. She still had her ideas, they still told her where to go. They still said, this way, this way. Joanne got a typewriter. This time she’d stick with it, this time she wouldn’t stop. She wrote in her brother-in-law’s cafe while baby Jessica slept. She wrote and wrote and wrote some more. The writing gave her meaning, the writing gave her hope.

Joanne decided to keep living. Decided life was better than death. She was done running, done hiding, she’d already failed at everything else. Goodbye mom, goodbye dad. Joanne finished her novel, her first novel, her lifelong dream. She sent it to an agent, he sent it to some publishers.



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