I had so many plans for the last month of 2020...
some of which came to fruition!
*My first-person account of living with FH appeared in Circulation: Genomics and Precision Medicine, a journal of the American Heart Association, and
*The Beautiful Game, a hybrid essay in the narrative helix form taught by Lydia Yuknavitch, was published in The Under Review
Most surprising of all, when I published last month’s blogpost, I shared a bit of the backstory on social media. I talked about how I’d worked hard to fine-tune the piece, how I’d had lots of encouragement from writing friends and felt sure it was both timely and timeless. But alas, my timing seemed off–a little too close to Christmas for publication. It seemed like a piece whose time was clearly then and there, so I chose to put it up on the blog so others could read it.
Besides posting on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook (the usuals), I shared the piece in a couple of closed writers’ Facebook Groups as well. Within hours, I had a message from an editor at The Good Men Project, asking to reprint it on their site.
Um…yes!
And this is how Embracing the In-Between came to appear on this well-trafficked website as featured content–on New Year’s Eve, of all days. Discussing how to navigate the no-man’s-land that is the space between what was and what will be seemed a fitting topic for the last day of a year like no other.
I’m beginning to see something more clearly than ever since writing this essay: we’re pretty much always in some sort of in-between or another. Even the enormous, life-changing events in our lives–weddings and births and moves, break-ups and relationship challenges and yes, even the grief of living on after a loved one has died–can be boiled down to learning to sit quietly in the discomfort of the neutral zone and listen for the lessons it has for you.
This essay’s journey spoke to me about perseverance, about not becoming discouraged when work I believe in doesn’t find a home in (let’s not mince words…is rejected by) outlets I feel certain it’s perfect for. Instead, here’s what I had to say as I shared news of publication on TGMP on social media:
“I couldn’t be more sure of the larger lesson…trust your gut, put things that feel important and right out into the universe, and watch what happens. This writing life is the complete opposite of an exact science. Sometimes what happens will be big and surprising. Sometimes it will seem small or even like nothing at all. But I’m more and more convinced that we may never know when the things we share touch someone who needs to hear them.”
This surely won’t be the last time I’ll be steeped in doubt and uncertainty. Querying a memoir and writing and submitting other work is definitely not for the faint of heart. I’ll return to this post when my hope sags and enthusiasm wanes and do my best to take my own advice. At the very least, I hope it will help me see what’s right in front of me: I’ve returned to the in-between.
Suddenly...finally...it was 2021,
and it was time to resume querying my memoir, The Full Catastrophe. I appreciate your sending me all the positive vibes you have that my letter and sample pages will reach the right agent on the right day. The toughest part of querying is piquing an agent’s interest enough for them to spend the little time they have to read full manuscripts reading mine.
Soon news came of an upcoming reprint of A How-To For Desperate Times in Fresh.Ink, to be published on February 15, 2021, a fine way to start the year. This piece, previously published in Barren Magazine, will appear at the Fresh.Ink website, along with author insights. But if you download the Fresh.Ink app for Mac or PC you’ll be able to also view discussion questions and take part in a conversation around the piece. I’m excited to see what people have to say and chime in.
Finally, I’ve been invited to read an abbreviated version of The Beautiful Game on Thursday, February 4, 2021, at 7 Central/8 Eastern at The Under Review’s Virtual Launch Reading for Issue 3. Check in on my Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter pages soon for more on how to join through Zoom. You’ll hear more than a dozen other writers who I guarantee will be reading some pretty amazing work. I predict you’ll be moved to check out the Under Review Lit website and read the full versions of the work that’s shared. I’d be honored if you’d join me there.
A final note: It’s exciting to have news to share, and I’d be lying if I said these successes haven’t brought me satisfaction and the sense that what I have to say is worth hearing. Worth reading. But I’d also be lying if I didn’t admit that for every success, there’s that whisper of doubt. Maybe that essay, the one I labored over so, the one I love because it says exactly what I wanted it to, is the last.
Worse yet, there are days I wonder if my book will ever make it into the world. Maybe this manuscript I’ve slaved over, poked and prodded and taken apart and put back together–this living thing into which I’ve poured my soul–won’t make it to an agent’s To Be Read pile. What then?
I think the world is made up of two kinds of people: the ones who admit to sometimes questioning everything they know and believe about themselves and their abilities, and the ones who question but don’t (or can’t) admit it, even to themselves. For me, airing these worries is the very thing that quiets them. When I see my fears on the page, as I’ve laid them out here, or when I hear myself express them to a trusted friend, I know in that moment what I would say to someone confiding the same fears to me:
Believe in yourself. Trust in your abilities. Look at where you’ve been, where you are now. The world needs your unique voice. No one can write this book, this essay, this article, this OpEd, but you, and there’s someone out there who needs to hear it.
The way you feel at this moment? That will pass. The next acceptance will come, the next opportunity will present itself. And one of these days, the agent will call. You’ll see.
For now, settle in and get comfortable living in the in-between.
Michael and I have a running joke about the “BUT WAIT” commercials, lol. The difference is, your news is worth waiting for. And I heard this once from someone very wise, whose name I can’t recall at the moment: “… one of these days, the agent will call. You’ll see.”