I worried that a new writing project would feel energetically flat. It turns out, like birthing a second child, my next book is notably different but equally loved.
When I was told to start on another book immediately, I thought, “yuck.” However, once I got into it, the creativity washed over me with excited ease. My current novel Moonwaiting compared to my next book project, a series of fictionalized short memoirs, are nothing alike. I didn’t realize I had more inside of me. I was so attached to the last book. I am guessing that experience could also hold true for you, dear creative friends.
During the year that I queried potential agents for Moonwaiting, I also gave myself the gift of play. I did what I actually enjoy: more writing. I did start a daily meditations book based on van life philosophies, but more on that another day.
My greatest drive went into “Auto-Fiction,” where autobiographical stories are embellished with not-so-true stuff, even surrealism. The stories evolved into less personal facts but still held the emotion and meaning of real life events.
Play, Even When You Don’t Make the Team.
Allowing ourselves to keep writing while seeking publication is deeply satisfying. Writers soon realize that their last project is not the end-all. That awareness is pretty important in a world of cut-throat, languishing, and highly random success with traditional publication.
I wrote 8 short stories of auto-fiction last year, totaling 27,500 words while seeking an agent for my other book. Each story falls in the order of my own major life events. I let my writing group read them, which kept me feeling hopeful. It even felt a bit cathartic. This helped my traditionally unpublished novel seem a little less crucial, and eventually, as you may know, I ended up publishing it independently.
I just concluded marketing the release of my witchy little novella Moonwaiting, and I did make a small bit of cash selling it to family, dear friends, and social media acquaintances.
The American Dream: Write a novel, clinch a lifelong agent, and make millions.
The Reality: Sell 37 copies and buy a plant.
The Win: I made actual money as a writer for the first time in my crazy life. I am now granting myself permission to say I’m an author, even if I say it with an eye-rolling smirk.
What’s Next? Brainstorming a Book Cover Helps.
After living in 40 homes, being raised by a feminist, surviving four divorces, recovery from drug addiction, parenting my own kids plus 4 steps, teaching high school for 30 years, traversing opposing religions, and years of therapy, I have something to say.
I created a potential book cover of my auto-fiction short stories for motivation.
Born Face Up: twisted stories of a woman corrected
What do you think?
Wearing the Dream Like a Loose-fitting Coat
For now, I still do freelance coaching and editing for other writers. Meanwhile, I will give my short fiction its due diligence, attempting to publish separate stories in literary magazines first, and perhaps in the end, just living a life of independent publication. It’s okay. What matters most is that I feel a fire in my belly because all-things-creative makes me feel alive.
