Big News!

Dear readers, after years of queries, requested manuscripts, constructive criticism, full edits, heartbreak, and hope, I have signed a contract for the publication of Sweet Divinity! (Cue uproarious applause!)

This journey began many years ago with a story told to me by a friend, a funny story about her brother's shenanigans.  When I wrote it down, the rest of the story flew out of me.  Perhaps that is because, in many ways, it was my story.

Since that first draft was completed, I have written a full literary fiction novel and have begun three others, including the sequel to Sweet Divinity.

I spent years querying agents, engaging in substantial rewrites with them, and even sending them divinity candy (which is SO darn difficult to make!), but with no ultimate professional relationships established.

Then, while at the beach this summer, I decided to take a different tack.  I had been afraid to reach out to small presses, afraid that I wouldn't know how to advocate for my work, afraid that if I exhausted those options, I would be left with a novel I knew was special, but nowhere to take it.

I spent many afternoons cooped up in the beach condo.  My son is three years old, and he has no love for the sand, while I, his doting mother, have no love for slathering him in lotion for fifteen minutes of beachtime and a bathtime consumed by screaming as I try to wash sand out of his mouth, elbow creases, and hair.  It's exhausting.  So most afternoons I sat inside with my laptop while my husband and daughter played on the beach and my son napped upstairs.

One afternoon I found myself seeking small presses, particularly those established in the South, since that is where my novel takes place.  I wanted a press that did actually print novels, a press that established personal connections with its writers, a press that would help me navigate the marketing of my book, a press that had happy, excited authors on their list.

I found Prospective Press.  I queried right away because I wanted exactly what they had to offer.  And the great news is, they wanted me too.

And so, readers, I have signed my first publishing contract.  I will now go into my Inbox where I have kept the "Rejections" folder and, in it, every rejection I have received.  It's time to move the folder to the trash can.  It's time to look forward freely and with anticipation of the road ahead.

I can't wait to get started on this project of publication, and I can't wait until Sweet Divinity is finally in your hands!  Today is a day to celebrate.  It is evidence that, if you press on, your professional goals can be met.  It's all in the timing, but you have to be present when it's time.  And now, at last, it's time for my precious Sweet Divinity.

A Nomadic Heart Roaming the Page

I am a sedentary nomad.  I love change.  If I were left to my own whims, I would move from here to there, throughout the United States and to myriad small villages and towns across Europe.  I would rent a tiny apartment or home in each place and then live there until the wind changes directions (not totally unlike Mary Poppins).  

And there are so many jobs I'd love to explore.  Museum curator, research librarian, college professor, anthropologist, life coach, motivational speaker, pastor, church education coordinator, freelance journalist, event planner, newswriter, literary agent, baker...how am I supposed to choose just one?

Yet there is always a constant in my life, the career, the vocation, the calling that centers and grounds me: I am a writer.  No matter how my life is progressing, how busy I am, or how hard my nomadic heart is pulling me, writing is the home I always return to.

I am constantly writing.  While I'm doing yoga (and not clearing my mind), as I drive to work, when I'm in the shower, as I'm drifting off to sleep.  Words are like breath for me.

So this summer, I've been working on three projects.  Three very different projects to fit my various mindspaces.  Here they are:

1. Gratitude: This project is near completion.  For years I've wanted to write a nonfiction book for young people that teaches them how to cultivate gratitude.  This summer I sat down and plowed through, and now I'm wrapping up the first draft.

2. Reliance: If you follow my blog, then you already know I'm working on this literary fiction novel about a corrupt preacher on his deathbed.  It's a slow going project, but it's worth the time.  I'm currently sitting still, staring at the page, wondering what happens next.  My fingers are poised, and I'm waiting for the story to take its next turn.

3. Sweet Divinity sequel/My Literary Boyfriends: This one is tricky.  I have a few stories that are ready to be told, and so are banging on my head with their little hammers, striving to get free and onto the page.  The trouble is, I'm not sure which project they are attached to.  So I'm writing my stories, releasing them and letting them find their way.  Both projects are women's fiction, one of course the sequel to my dear Sweet Divinity, and the other based on my tendency to refer to William Faulkner as my "literary boyfriend".  We'll see which project takes flight.

I am a writer.  Just as people know that they are teachers, doctors, fathers, artists, musicians, mothers, speakers, comedians, and healers, I know that I am a writer.  This monadic heart can explore the world through the written word, and she can bring along a few friends.  What a beautiful life, to be a writer.

Art from Life

A lot of what I write comes from life.  Now, don't worry, our personal conversations and your trials and tribulations aren't going to show up suddenly in my next novel.  I always ask permission before I use specifics.  My friends will now automatically say things like, "And you can use that in your book" or "Okay, I've got something for your next book".  So many of the best novels are those that present people as they are, in all of their hilarious, loveable, and broken ways.  Don't get me wrong, I've loved many a story with a talking sheep or an android with a heart of gold, but often the ones that really get to me are those that dig at the complexities of the human person.

Books like Sweet Divinity are so obviously inspired by who I am and what I've experienced.  Like Amanda Jane, I grew up on a farm and then left home and now live in a bigger city (or at least the suburbs).  I, too, find it difficult to reconcile the parts of me that were formed in the country with the rest of me that loves the diversity of experience in a larger hometown.  The opening scene of the novel comes from a completely true event that one of my friends experienced in her childhood.  While the details are mine, the hilarious circumstance is all hers.  And although I'm not a baker like Amanda Jane, I do love a yummy baked good.  If you follow me on Instagram, then you already know that I have no resistance when it comes to donuts.  Especially the fluffy yeasty ones with that chocolate icing that's slightly firm on top and messy once you skim the surface.  I think I sense a metaphor here...

Reliance, my literary fiction manuscript, was of course inspired by photographs I purchased at the country fair last year, an experience I've written about on this blog.  However, much of the plot of the novel comes from my life.  Several years ago I had a relative who was succumbing to cancer.  He had been instrumental in my life, positively, but also negatively, and I struggled with his deterioration and decline.  During the period of his struggle, I learned that he had a second, secret family, and this news shook me to the very foundation of who I am.  I questioned everything I had experienced in childhood.  I questioned everything I knew about him.  I questioned the validity of all of my relationships.  It was grueling.  I tried to write during that time and I could not.  It frustrated me, because I believed that if I could purge myself of the pain by transferring it to the page, then I would be okay.  Of course, this is not what would have happened, but it couldn't anyway because I simply could not write.  I couldn't write a poem, a paragraph, a sentence.  It was as if all of my emotional stores were used up.  I had nothing to give.  And so I lived through that experience (with the help of an amazing counselor), but it remained unwritten.  My husband actually collected various "artifacts" from that time and boxed them up, as he put it, "for when it's time to write the novel".  The time finally came, and that novel is Reliance.

I'm now beginning work on the sequel to Sweet Divinity.  I had a vague idea of where I wanted Amanda Jane's story to go when I wrapped up her first novel.  There were several main plot points that I was certain of, but I was still waiting for her to tell me how she would develop as a person.  I love sharing her journey, and I want to make sure that I do it justice, that I allow her the emotional development she deserves.  And so, for good or for ill, life always provides.  This summer has been spectacular so far, but one thing I know for sure is that there will always be another challenge, and that challenge has hit me this week.  I'm grateful that, as a writer, I can face my challenges as opportunities, and I can write my way through them.  I'm grateful that this time I don't have the emotional block I experienced in the past.  This time, I know that I, and Amanda Jane, are ready to live through it.  And thus the blinking cursor becomes a manuscript.

Natural Beauty, History, and Donuts...A Recipe for Inspiration

I would be remiss if I did not begin by describing the scene in front of me.  I'm sitting at a high top table, perched in my cushioned seat, legs criss-cross-applesauce, gazing out the open sliding glass door at the ocean.

It's a beautiful day.  The beach is clear save for a few rainbow colored umbrellas and the occasional shovel-bearing child running through my line of sight.  The ocean is rolling along with the occasional whitecap, and I can see where the shades of it transition from light brown, to deep blue, to a greenish blue.  And there's one of my favorite creatures, the pelican, diving in search of lunch.

I am so grateful for this beauty, though I'm pretty sure I'm a horrible travel companion.  It's the fourth day of our vacation, and I'm midway through my fourth book.  I sit and read A LOT at the beach.  Sure, I'll go for a walk at the ocean's edge, play "Oh Dear Lord Almighty, Look at the Beach!" with my daughter (a game where we swim out to where the waves first break and then scream those important words at the pivotal moment so we know to turn and avoid being smacked in the face with saltwater), and dig in the sand with my toddler, but more than likely, I'm reading.  Reading on the beach, reading on the balcony, reading on the couch, reading in bed.  It's like a Readers Retreat.  And I love it.

I've also been working on Reliance while here.  I was so excited yesterday morning when suddenly one of the narrative voices started talking to me and I got up early, before the rest of the family, so I could record what she said.  And just this morning, she filled in some gaps for me.  Her story was tragic, unexpected, but it explains so much about how her brother turned out to be the morally ambivalent man he was.

As a writer, you have to trust the voices in your head.  But in order to do that, you must be able to listen to them.  Life is so busy.  When I'm home, even in the summer, when my work schedule is flexible, I'm going-going-going.  I have to create moments of quiet so that I can hear more clearly.  Sometimes it's when I'm reading, when I've escaped my life so completely that another can find space inside my mind.  Sometimes it's when I'm falling asleep and I've surrendered the day.  Often it's first thing in the morning, before the day's expectations usurp all of my mindspace.

For me, there aren't many places as conducive to opening my mind as the beach.  Maybe it's the sound of the surf, the comfort food (see my recent Instagram posts of donuts...and more donuts), or the fact that I'm able to leave so many of the expectations of my everyday life behind.  Maybe it's being in a city with hundreds of years of history, so many stories it could tell.  Maybe it's a little bit of each.  What I do know is that the novel is flowing, and I can feel it in every bit of me.

It's All in the Timing

The querying process is many things: exciting, distressing, exhilarating, dejecting, affirming.  But what I find most intriguing about it is that it's all in the timing.
 
There are a few big no-nos in querying, and one of them is to not query the same agent with the same project once she's passed.  You might be reading this blog, thinking to yourself, "Well, obviously, Megan!"  I know, I know.  But sometimes mistakes happen, and sometimes, they're illuminating mistakes.

Years ago, when I first queried Sweet Divinity in its initial iteration, I queried an agent from the South who I thought would like my super-southern premise.  I sent her my query letter as part of a slew of queries.  As a teacher, I spend my summers full-on pursuing my writing career; heaven knows that during the school year there's hardly time to do laundry, let alone establish a new career!  Needless to say, the agent passed, and so I moved her rejection email to the proper folder in my inbox, and I moved on.

Fast forward several years and a baby.  I had reworked parts of Sweet Divinity, but the general premise remained the same.  I added a few scenes for character development and for humor, and once again I sat down to send out my queries. 

This time I had my priceless, pink planner, and I systematically noted every agent I queried, along with their agency and the date I sent my materials.  This was during the "summer of pneumonia" I've written about on this blog.  A very literary summer indeed.

As I submitted one particular query and then recorded the information in my planner, I suddenly realized that this name was familiar.

I yanked open my laptop and, in quite a panicked sweat, pulled up my email, opened the "Rejections" folder, and did a quick search.

And there it was...I had queried the same agent.  A duplicate query. 

I threw myself across the table, chastising myself for not being more systematic and organized the first time around. 

And if you know me, then you know that this is typical.  I'm an extremely organized, yet cluttered, person.  My natural state is to exist in a room surrounded by trinkets, my mind jumping from one project to the next, forgetting to do simple things like, I don't know, actually go to the appointment I scheduled. 

And so I am a systematic planner.  I keep the family calendar, with all of our appointments listed in precise time increments; I have a second giant calendar on my desk to provide a monthly view; and I have to-do lists on post-its on my computer screen and on my desk.

I am naturally cluttered, and so I over-organize in anticipation of my distraction and "Squirrel!" moments.

And it drives me nuts when I fail.

As I saw the agent's rejection email staring at me from the screen, I chastised myself and prayed that the rejection would come quickly and without an acknowledgement of what I had done.

And what do you know?

Same manuscript, same query letter, same author bio, same first ten pages.

She asked to see more.

I'm learning more and more about writing, publishing, and myself as I mosey along in my journey towards publication.  One of the unexpected lessons I've learned is that sometimes it's all in the timing.  I won't be duplicate-querying other agents, not by any means, but I will remember that a rejection isn't an outright rejection of me, my abilities, or my work.  In fact, sometimes, and maybe often, it's simply not my time.  So I will keep working until it is.

What I'm Reading

Hello Readers!

It's almost time to make my summer reading list, that blessed day where I enter the library empty-handed and emerge an hour later with ten beautiful books in my arms!

But while I wait for the big day, I'm working through some books that appeared on my radar last year and just haven't made it to my hands until now.  Here's what I'm reading:

As I Lay Dying, by William Faulkner:  If you've met me, then you know that Faulkner is my literary boyfriend.  I read this novel years ago, and I even taught it for a year, but I'm now reading it again with my literary book club.  It's a family saga as only Faulkner can present it: with a handful of narrators and an examination of identity, tradition, responsibility, and humanity.

Fen, by Daisy Johnson: This one was recommended by one of my fabulous former students.  I'll read anything she suggests. Fen is a short story collection that blurs the line between fantasy and reality...it reminds me in many ways of a magical realism text.  The focus is on relationships, both with oneself and with others...in particular, the physicality of relationships.

Strange Bird, by Jeff Vandermeer: I loved Borne.  And I write that with full acceptance that I typically have an aversion to science fiction (I don't know why, so please don't ask.  I will simply shrug.).  This novella takes place in the Borne universe, one I was excited to get back into.  The bad news here is that I have momentarily misplaced the book...which lets me know it's time to declutter my life.

Before I make my library run, I'm wondering...what's on your summer reading list?

Life Begins Again in the Summer

“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.” The Great Gatsby, Fitzgerald

You know what stinks? Anxiety.

And I'm not talking about common anxiety, anxiety that makes you nervous before a test or that causes you to say a prayer before you set off to travel. That stinks too.

I'm talking about Generalized Anxiety Disorder.

This is the kind of anxiety that can call your life to a screeching halt, cause your body to ache from head to toe, prevent you from doing anything, from driving to work to going to the concert you've been looking forward to for months.

I am someone who has been dealing with a Generalized Anxiety Disorder since my sophomore year of college, the year 2000 (I know what some of you are thinking...oh! I was born that year! Awesome.). My anxiety came along after one of my best friends died at the hand of a drunk driver, and I found out that my family was falling apart. It was a lot to deal with, and I didn't know there were options. So I suffered quietly. I didn't go to the Backstreet Boys concert, because I was convinced I would die on the interstate. I started bailing on plans right and left, unable to explain to anyone that my whole body was telling me to stay home. I started ending friendships because I didn't know how to deal with confrontation.

This went on for YEARS. For twelve years, to be exact. It wasn't all bad; some really amazing things happened during that time, and I could deal with them decently. And then life took another dreadful turn, and I was broken. And that's when I found my options, and I started to put in the work. And it was hard work. I still work on it every day.

Once in a while, life seems too difficult to bear. Work gets overwhelming, my children are so needy, I want to be everything to everyone. And there's no time to write.

But one thing I've learned about myself is that I must balance my life. I must work. I must love my students. I must be there for my family. I must go to church. I must go outside every day. I must find time to work out my body. I must cook fresh meals. I must kiss my children. I must go on dates with my husband. I must read every day. I must write.

And so, as dear Nick Carraway once said, life begins anew in the summer.

Sure, it's going to be hot. And it's going to be busy. I have vacation plans, the kids have camps, I have tutoring.

But I'm making some goals for myself.

I will take care of myself. I will not overcommit, even if I want to. And I will want to.

I will finish Reliance. Draft One, at least.

I will send Sweet Divinity to independent publishers.

I will begin the sequel.

I will live each moment.

Here's to the summer of 2018...it's going to be inspiring!



*If you suffer from anxiety and don't know what your options are, please reach out to your doctor and ask.  For me, this was the best thing I've ever done for myself.