One Million words written
Six novels completed
An agent found
And a minimum of four children’s books
published
These 4 short goals for 2023 will make this
story possible….
I have been a writer since I was in grade
school, I wrote my first full-length novel (150,000 words) when I was 12 and
started several others. In school, I allowed myself to get sidetracked, by
basketball, volleyball, track, band, and choir, but I still wrote every day,
finding my voice and my passion and not letting anything stand in my way of me
being a writer, but I never considered myself an author, not someone with the
talent to get paid to do what they loved. I met my first love when I was 15 and
we married in high school. He was born with a terminal illness and the doctors
told us every year that if he made it through this winter, he would probably
make it to the next. We had two children, and by the time he was 27, he had had
several strokes and was bedridden for the last 6 years of his life. I had to
work three jobs to take care of the kids, pay for the bills, get his medicine,
and his home health nurse. I am sorry he had to go through it, but I am
grateful that I had the opportunity to know him. He was an amazing man and my
inspiration. He never complained about what life had thrown at him, knowing
that each day could be his last made him live that day to the fullest. He was
passionate and adventurous, never letting his illness stop him from doing what
he loved, doing things that most people told him he shouldn't or couldn't
because he was sick. He is the reason I will never end a conversation or leave
the house without telling people that I love them, and that they are important
to me because, with him, I never knew if he would be there when I got home.
After his strokes I let my writing drop to nearly nothing, finding little time
to sleep or eat, let alone time to be creative, while I worked 7 days a week,
sleeping during my lunch, and concentrating what little home time I had to just
be with him and the kids. At 33 he passed away from a heart attack, on April
Fool’s Day, the worst joke he ever played on me. I am devastated by his loss,
and I miss him every day, even now, 17 years later. I know that he had a full
life, and I am so glad I got to be a part of it. I never want to go through that
pain again, but the eighteen years I had with him made it all worth it. When he
passed, I threw myself into my writing, writing several new books and storing
them away. When I met my new husband, he started to push me to publish my
books, but it was hard for me, as I said, I never believed I could be an
author. Picked on in school, quiet and shy, I was much better at sitting alone
in a room and losing myself to my work than I was at putting myself out there.
My mother only had one call from the school about me, the teacher wanted to
speak to her about me not talking in class. Mom was confused saying that she
thought kids weren't supposed to talk in class. The teacher said...She won't
even talk when I ask her a question. I am not a talker, and still am not, and I
am not one to put myself out there. At the time my husband was pushing me to
get published, I had never even let someone look at my writing. I had written
several short stories for school assignments that had to be read aloud in
class. The kids made fun of me, but the teacher tried to push me to get my work
published, telling me how good it was. I said no, telling her, and myself, that
I was just writing for me, for fun, and that being an actual "writer"
was not what I wanted. I finally allowed my husband to, not exactly bully me :) but to strongly encourage and motivate me, and
I started putting my work out there. I now have a couple of children’s books,
and two novels published. The response was good, I have good reviews and sales
were decent for a first-time unknown author. The problem is...they were
published over 10 years ago. I have finished two other novels, am halfway
through a third, and have several chapters into about 50 or 60 others, not to
mention the original story that I wrote, oh so many long years ago, that is
complete, still sitting and waiting for me to do some last-minute edits and
turn it into my publisher. Every time I sit to work on a book, I end up telling
myself that something else is more important, that the floors need to be swept,
the dishes need to be done, and the laundry needs folded. I tell myself that
all of this is more important than wasting time at a computer doing something
that is not paying the bills. Every time I think about turning my work in to
the publisher, I just keep thinking that my earlier success had to have been a
mistake, it was an accident that will not be repeated, either that or all the
people that hated it just didn't bother to say anything. Sales dropped off and
have gone to nearly nothing because I did not have the momentum with another
book to keep the readers interested, especially since both of my published
novels are book 1 in their series. Also, because I am not one to "put
myself out there" marketing for my book has been close to nothing. I have
let self-criticism keep me from completing any of the books that I am working
on and have let fear and doubt keep me from being something I have wanted to be
since I was 8.
I know my story, I am a writer and I am an
author. People are going to love me or they are going to hate me, but that is
the nature of writing. Not every book is for every person and all I have to do
is read the reviews of my favorite books to remind myself of that. I have had a
wonderful life, and I have a great story. As I have written this I realize
something, it is not a story I want to "change", but like the tales
that I write, that mass of stories that I have sitting in my computer and in
the vast notebooks that encompass my office, all I have to do is to find the
courage to complete my own story, to edit out the parts that are holding me
back, to refine my words and my storyline until it matches my vision of a
better future.
So what I am working on is not my new story,
because I need to stick with something and see it complete. This is my
soon-to-be-published story, and edits, changes, and cuts need to be made to
make that happen. In my writing career, I need to focus on one story at a time
until it is done, not tell myself that I need to switch between them because
this character or that is talking to me. That is just an excuse to
procrastinate, a chance to allow my doubts to stop me without admitting that is
what I am doing. I need to put a set limit on editing, because I know it will
never be good enough for me and I will always find some word or some phrase
that could use a little tweaking, could be just a little better. That too is
just a way to fall before my fears without admitting that that is what I am doing.
When the book is done, I need to turn it in to the publisher, it will never be
published if I don’t turn it in. For both my writing career and my personal
life I am going to go back to school and get my history degree. (That must wait
until next year though, because I have agreed to become the President of the
Idaho Veterans of Foreign Wars Auxiliary, and that will mean lots of travel and
time over the next year. It is something I am terrified to do---it means a lot
of speeches in front of people I do not know and many meeting that I will be in
charge of--I hope it helps not only the veterans and their families but me as
well) For my books to be successful I must start putting myself out there into
the public, restarting my blog, getting back onto Facebook, Twitter, TikTok,
and getting out to do book signings, in other words, being my own cheerleader.
In my personal life, I need to lose weight. I don't care what I look like, and
I don't care what the scale says. What I do care about is my ability to ride
the rides at the fair, to go mountain and rock climbing, to go running, to go
hike the Appalachian Trail, and to spend many years with my family. The things
that I love doing, things I miss or dream of doing, but things that I cannot do
because of my weight.
Making these changes to my story will allow me
to have the Happily Ever After that everyone, including me (I remind myself
subtly) deserves to have. It will make me a better wife, a better mother, and a
better person.