Archive | February, 2020

Liar, Liar

11 Feb

img_0434Writing is not fun. The people who tell you, Oh, I love to write so much that wish I could spend all day doing it are lying. Because if they had the time to write all day long, they would use every distraction at their disposal to avoid actually writing something. I know this, because I am one of those liars myself.

Right now, while I may actually be writing something, it’s not what I’m supposed to be writing. I’m supposed to be starting my next novel. In fact, I should’ve started it ages ago—or at least created a substantial outline of what I want it to be. At this point, even a completed paragraph would be good.

Unfortunately, when you complete your first novel, and it’s about to be published, it’s assumed you’ve been at this writing thing since you were twelve, and that you have a minimum of two or three completed manuscripts in the bottom of a desk drawer somewhere that you can pull out, polish up a bit, and send off to your publisher.

Insert eye roll emoji here.

I really do want to start my next book. And I actually have a general idea of what I want to write about. It’s just that it’s a sensitive subject that’s close to my heart, which makes it that much more scary and overwhelming. I’m not afraid of expressing vulnerability, but I do worry too much about what others think of me. Especially since I’m a two on the Enneagram scale (truly weird how accurate this test is) which means my personality makes me only want to please. https://www.enneagraminstitute.com/type-2.

While the topic of my next novel may not please everyone, maybe it will help others, which is also part of my personality type. So I ask myself—which is more important—pleasing, or helping? With all the hate and division going on in the world these days, I think I’ll stick with helping.

Okay I’m done. I’m posting this, and then I swear, I’m not getting up from the computer until I write an entire page. Or maybe a paragraph. Or at least one really great sentence.

I’ll keep you posted.

Lost in Oaxaca

Shutting Her Up

7 Feb

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When my youngest daughter was diagnosed with leukemia almost thirteen years ago, my life changed profoundly. In the middle of all that fear and chaos, I somehow found me. I discovered just how strong I was; I learned to focus on what was most important in life—family, friends, finding joy in the little things. I began to ignore that malevolent voice who was always telling me I wasn’t good enough to pursue my dreams. With her silenced, I found my true passion: writing.

So now, over a decade later (where the heck does the time go?) I’m about to make a really big dream come true—publishing my first novel. And I should be over the moon excited about it, but instead, I’m nervous. More like petrified. As my publishing date approaches, that nasty voice that I told to shut up all those years ago has sensed my vulnerability and she is on the attack. She’s bitchier than ever—telling me how stupid I am to think to anyone will read my book; that I’m a total fraud, and what makes you think you’re an actual writer?

Lately, I’m wondering why I allowed this bitch to get into my head again. Most of my advanced readers have loved Lost in Oaxaca. The Book Club Cook Book loved it. https://www.bookclubcookbook.com/galleymatchbookclubsrecommend-copy-2-2/  So what am I afraid of? Rejection? After 150 outright NOs from publishers and agents, I don’t think that’s it. Criticism? Maybe. Perhaps it’s because I feel like I’m about to give birth to a child that I’ve spent seven years creating, and I want everyone to love her unconditionally. Yet I’m savvy enough to know this is not going to happen.

So the voice scolds and rebukes me; tries to get me to believe that I won’t be a success. But if there’s one thing I know—it’s that I won’t ever stop writing. I love words and stories and books too much. I love colorful characters who are flawed and scared. I want them figure it all out, just as I’m figuring it all out. And writing is my pathway. It allows me to share my doubts and fears with you, so that maybe in our shared vulnerability, we can connect on a deeper level. That’s what really makes me want to write.

Thirteen years ago, when I was at my lowest, I somehow got that bitch to shut up.

I can do it again.

 

I’d love to see you at Chaucer’s Bookstore on Wednesday, April 29, 2020 from 7:00-9:00 p.m. for my book signing!