2020 saw the first National Novel Writing Month since 2008 where I did nothing at all, a final word count of zero for any intended novels. That came and went without regret because I knew the time wasn’t right and November is often the busiest month of production at work, as if I found myself in a career completely antithetical to what I had been doing for fun.
Frankly, the only novel I had written during this 2016-2020 span was “Alathea: Goddess and Empress”. I managed that because this was a familiar character in a setting already created (see “Crown Princess’ Voyage”, where I’ve already established her, the most important people in her life by that point, her history, her home port city, motivations, personality etc.) and I had notes prepared. Also, I had not worked in manufacturing for most of that year; my season started somewhere between late August and early September (right after Labour Day? I forget these minor details quite often, please don’t ask me to remember most birthdays without Facebook telling me when they are), so I had the reserves of strength to write part of a novel (the ending wasn’t written back then, 3/4 of the book hit the word count goal and I finished the rest years later) while still editing and transcribing, handling copy editing and writing duties for Auxiliary Magazine, and plunging myself into a new career that was really challenging and made me emotional quite often.
Every other year from 2017 to 2019, I hit that word count by writing a diary, which doubled as a “dumping ground manuscript”, a place for every wayward thought, confession and silly story that I wanted to write into the void, then delete after validating word count. I didn’t see the point nor feel the need for that this year.
It’s 2020 and so many of us are in a place we didn’t foresee, extra challenges piled on to whatever we were already facing. Times that have really laid me bare and forced me to proper introspection; not necessarily revelations, but in most cases, memories, things known in a prior time but not accepted. If you are where I have been, my only advice is that you might not be protecting yourself by forgetting. Whatever it is, it will return to the surface until you face it properly. That’s some of the work I’ve been doing, and along the lines of lessons I must never forget. I will leave it at that for now.
From out of this, I have somehow felt ready to revamp the next manuscript. I first wanted to say I’m writing a new book, then a “new old book”, because the first draft predates my Lush career. I feel like there should be some record of it preceding 2015, but 2015 mostly doesn’t exist in my memory for reasons I don’t want to get into right now. 2015 involves marching around, poking holes in riverbanks with the screw end of a wooden broom handle, and planting milkweed and other seed bombs. If 2015 is when I wrote this “new old book” draft that’s been in front of me for a few days as I take chapter-by-chapter content notes and write suggestions for how to proceed, then it wasn’t such a write-off year after all. I certainly was planting things in a most hopeful way.
I’m going to write the next draft of this “new old book”. I may pursue editors this go-around. From there, it makes the most sense to publish it the way the others have been published, unless some opportunity arises to revamp them all under an imprint; one can dream. This book fits with the others and even refers to a couple that aren’t written yet. A tiny number of people have read the draft that I wrote at the time, and I don’t believe any of them have truly left me, though we aren’t all in close contact anymore. Hey, it’s a time of social distancing anyway. We can keep close from a distance thanks to the internet. That’s been true for a while, actually.
Today, I’m doing what you would expect the indie writer stereotype to do. I drank coffee, I await breakfast, and I’ve been building a writer playlist, even writing this post, anything but actually doing the work. That’s typical for me, but the four books on the market show that eventually I do what I’m supposed to be doing. Even if I don’t start that today, I know what time I’m setting aside every workday to do this, and what necessary sacrifice needs to happen so I can make time.
Thanks for following this quiet Facebook Page, and anywhere else, my personal feed, Twitter timeline, quiet website blog. Everyone who has crossed paths with me on this journey has had something to add, some lesson to teach me, along my journey. I want to end this post with gratitude for your role, taking time out of your eventful life to do something for mine.
Thank you for everything, and stay safe.