Well I did it. I wrote a book. I sold a book. I am a published author. The day my book came out was one of the highlights of my life. My facebook blew up! I had like 22 comments. WOOT! WOOT! I realized this was the beginning of a new life. I knew that by the end of the next week, I would probably have to give my boss the very sad news that I will be resigning. For one thing, it’s not fair to be needing so much time off for book tours and television appearances. I mean I suppose I could try and work remotely, but I will be in so many different time zones, LA, New York, Europe (what time zone are they on over there?) that it only seems prudent to begin thinking about who could replace me.
I began to think of what I could do with all the income I would now have coming in. Probably time to put in that pool I’ve been wanting, but wait, do I really want to go through that messy process, when most likely I will probably have to sell my house soon anyway, when I move to California after I am offered my own talk show? Gosh, so much to figure out and plan, woe is me, the life of a successful and highly in demand author.
By the end of the week, I think I sold 43 books. To put this in perspective my parents bought 24 and I bought 10. I kept checking my phone to see if I had missed any calls with Los Angeles or NYC area codes. I did once but it was GoDaddy wanting me to renew my domain name. Ellen, Tyra, The View…they were not contacting me as I had anticipated. (And anyone who knows me knows that one of my goals in life is to be on the Ellen show…ugh SO CLOSE!)
My publisher kept pushing, “You have to sell, you have to market, you have to PUSH!” I contacted a literary publicist, who wanted 12K to get me into an online magazine. I wrote a blog post and put a link to my book in it. I got comments like “Shameless book promoting, nothing else.” Ack! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, they made me do it!
Finally, finally, I was asked to talk on an online radio show. Now we’re cookin! I thought. The morning I called in I had my whole speech prepared. I would talk about the devastation of divorce, how debilitating it can be, how to pull yourself up from the depths and reinvent yourself, how good your next phase of life can be. The radio host introduces me and as I get ready to launch into my inspirational monologue she says, “We’re gonna play a game! I’m going to read lines from your old blog posts and you complete the sentence!” WHAT? I stumbled, and faux pas’ed my way through it
with a lot of dead air. I could tell she couldn’t wait to get rid of me as she introduced her next guest whose subject was “finding cheap flights.” Ugh. Never again.
I decided that was it. I wrote a book and had it published. So? My publisher had all but disappeared now. My parents had my book on every shelf and coffee table in the house, it was almost creepy. “You did it” I told myself. Now focus on your REAL job and maybe you will be the recipient of the 5$ Starbucks card for a job well done this week. THIS is your future, your safety net, your income BTW. Move on.
And I did, until…one night I woke up with the best idea…it was actually an idea for a fiction novel (my first go at fiction!) and within moments I was at my computer putting it together, watching my protagonist come to life, laughing at all the predicaments she was going to find herself in. That’s when I realized, like I’m sure you have many times, I can’t stop writing. It’s not a job, it’s a way of breathing, it’s as much a part of me as my thinning hair and my size 9 AAA feet.
Why do we do it? It’s not to become rich and famous and have our books made into movies so that we can meet Meryl Streep, my idol. Yes, I know Cheryl Strayed did it, but I’m really beginning to think, you know, it’s not the norm. We do it because it’s in us and we have to let it out. Recently I had a session with my beloved writing coach and I said “I am 55, and petrified. The time is slipping away and I have so much I want to write and say, I’m afraid I won’t get it done.” “Use the panic” she said “And write!”
So I have set a new goal for myself, to have my fiction novel done by my birthday this year, which is August 9th. That means writing on weekends on evenings, in the wee hours of the morning to get it done. I’m very proud of my book “There’s Been A Change Of Plans” insert shameless book promotion here, and I wonder can I love my new baby as much? Time will tell.
Why do we do it? Because we have to, because we are not whole without it. And because, maybe, just maybe, you know Ellen will friend us on Facebook and see that we wrote a book, and then…