IT’S been seven years since my last book release. Objectively, I suppose, that seems like a wide gap. Being on the other side of those seven years, I can tell you it mostly feels like, in the words of fellow NJ native Bruce Springsteen, it passed by in the wink of a young girl’s eye.
SEVEN YEARS?! Really?
Yep.
I’ve been thinking about this post for a while. The need to explain myself because I know I’ll be asked, or maybe it just feels that way. Maybe I’m asking myself – why did it take me so long?
I don’t know.
Also – I do know.
When I dreamed of being a published author, it was always in an undefined way. I never said, “I’m going to write “x” amount of books in “x” amount of years”, it was more like “I really dig writing, it would be cool to write a novel someday.”
Ah, the naiveté of youth.
Becoming an author, for me at least, has been a journey of self-discovery. That sounds sappy, but it’s true. You can imagine what it’s like to be an author all you want but until it happens, you don’t know what it’s truly like.
There’s no debut author handbook that helps you navigate the ups and downs of the publishing business. To a publisher – you’re just another novelist. I don’t mean that in a flippant way – I mean – they do this every day for hundreds if not thousands of books. The book business is second nature to them, and also to many of the people you work with on the road to publication.
Specifics, for me?
I didn’t know how terrifying it would be to be so accessible to readers after years of focusing on my work. Or that I didn’t have to answer every Tweet or DM thrown my way. Or how I thought I could somehow control the outcome of a publicity push. Or determine the number of people who would show up at a book signing. Or that one bad review would mean my career was over before it started.
I also never thought of what I wanted to accomplish as an author. Would I have to write a book a year? That’s what really successful authors do, right? So, if I don’t have a book or two out every year, am I a failure? In our current hustle culture, the resounding answer seems to be YES!
Except, that’s total crap.
And it took me creative burnout and seven years to understand that.
That’s not to say that this seven-year gap doesn’t feel like a failure. Some days it does. On the other hand, I lived A LOT of life in those years. Lost friends and family. Watched my children grow. Made a few big moves. Hit some milestones. I wrote two different books before I wrote the story that became SOMEONE YOU LOVED. One was awful. Like, truly dreadful. The other one, I actually liked, and did a lot of research for, but in the end, my publisher didn’t feel it was The One.
That news, especially after I worked so hard, and watched so much soccer, took some time, and good chocolate and Netflix, to digest. I wasn’t sure I wanted to write anymore. That maybe my other books had been dumb luck.
Then I started writing SOMEONE YOU LOVED – it immediately felt different. I loved it from the start. The characters, their story, their flaws. I was invested. And it felt good. It took me a few months to write a first draft. And then, with some help from a global pandemic, a few years to revise. And now in less than two months, it will be released to the world.
No longer just mine.
And suddenly those seven years don’t seem that long anymore.
Will it take me another seven years to release a book? I certainly hope not. What I’ve realized in these years of being a published author is that the only thing I have control over is my words. So, I’m setting goals, getting words down and doing my best to keep my eyes on my own page. My career is my own and I’m so thankful, every day, for this wild ride.