I finished my final manuscript for The Dirty Book Club in January 2017 ready for a break. After thirty-two novels and a grey-green complexion all I wanted to do was tend to my hair–the wanted and the unwanted–and re-enter society, tragic as it has become. At that point I could only imagine what life was like outside my head and I was so over imagining. I wanted reality. So much so that I spoke to a local shop owner about working at her boutique. Dressing living people instead of fictional characters seemed like a positive first step.
But my work on the Dirty Book Club was far from over. Proofs needed proofing. My dying social media sites needed defibrillators. Then they needed a new look. Then content. Gawd, the content. The book jacket art needed tweaking. A narrator for the audiobook needed approval. I met with movie producers, journalists, and a Facebook expert. I decided there just had to be a Dirty Book Club nail polish and a DBC key necklace so I met with Anya the polish expert and Gorjana the jewelry designer. I negotiated deals and sampled samples. There were giveaways, promotions, and sneak previews. I hand wrote thank you notes to everyone I came into contact with. And then hit the road for book tour. (More thank you notes.)
In a few months I went from a solitary burned out writer to the CEO, CFO, and WTF of what felt like a major corporation. Only instead of a staff run by knowledgable department heads it was just me. And just me was inundated. I was anxious, restless, irritated, and more fried than I was in January. But why? I was in the real world, dealing with all three dimensions, and getting out there. My goals had been met.
Still…
At the urging of my agent and my retirement account I sat down yesterday to the hum of my Doterra diffuser and banged out what may or may not be the first chapter of a new novel. No title. No outline. No solid plot. Just some blurry characters pitching tents in the wilderness of my mind. And you know what? I felt joyful again. Calm. Hopeful and giddy in that flirting-with-my-new-crush sort of way.
The lesson here? No clue. It’s more of an irony, I suppose. Or maybe a reminder that there’s no place like home.
Here we go again…
TTYW,
Lisi
7 Comments
When I step out into the real world I see a ton of doors to be opened. Doors that can lead to something great, something interesting, something new. The problem is I feel compelled to open them all. I find myself saying yes to every invitation. It is my hand that goes up fast and furious after hearing, “who would like to…” I have to start saying no to things and I have to undo some of my yeses. I envy your no place like home. How do I get there?
This is so exciting!
Thank you, KC.
xoxo Lisi
I’m glad you were able to push through all the rough patches! It’s also exciting to know you could be posssibly starting a new story! I just started rewriting an old story of mine this summer and I feel like I’m getting lost in the plot, i.e. I don’t know what my end goal is, but I don’t want to stop writing it. I guess we’ll see where it takes us.
Arianna, if there is a specific writing question you have let me know and maybe I’ll blog about it in this week’s post.
xoxo Lisi
you are my favorite author!
Thanks Massie. You are one of my favorite characters.
xoxo Lisi