A Departure From the Norm and a Return to Myself

I actually did some work on my own writing last month!

There are definitely worse places to hole up for two nights

I did something unusual (for me) last month: in an effort to maximize my solo time on a four-night work trip, I requested PTO for a large chunk of the trip so I could focus on revising my novel.

This goes against my instincts for a few reasons. The first is that I have a history of putting all of myself into my job, and setting aside time during a work trip to actively not work felt very foreign. The second is that I try to keep my writing separate from everything else – work, family, social life – precisely because I like to dive deeply into it without distractions from other priorities.

But, look, life is busy. I don't get many opportunities to focus on my writing. Gone (hopefully not forever but likely for a while) are the quarterly writing retreat, the long weekends holed up in a motel room or a tiny Airbnb with nothing but my laptop, a printed manuscript, and a bag of Trader Joe's prepared foods to keep me company. Now I'm rarely alone and almost never able to focus on one things deeply. So when my husband decided that he and our son wouldn't accompany me on my planned visit to Walla Walla (the town so nice they named it twice), I decided to try a compromise. The sacrifice would be 20 hours of PTO and a certain amount of fun/sleep instead of time with my family – that seemed reason enough to give it a go.

So, time off approved, I set off on the 5.5-hour drive southeast, my trusty bag of TJ’s snacks rustling in the trunk every time I made a tight turn. And when I arrived, as I’d promised myself I would, I got to work right away.

Bless this mess

I stayed at two different hotels (the piece I wrote when I got home was a sort of comparison of hotels/types of trips), so there was a transition to be accounted for, plus two property tours. But when I wasn’t on the clock for those or FaceTiming with my boys, I was working. I spent that first evening sending out my memoir* to a handful of small presses whom I thought might be a match (the kind rejections have already started rolling in), and the next morning I jumped into the novel.

I brought a printed manuscript, natch, and I’d also downloaded the notes and overviews my first readers had sent me last year (well, one came in as I pulled up to the first hotel, and it sent me into a tailspin of doom,** but luckily a check-in with one of my other readers helped right me). I had Word read the book aloud to me as I went through the ms page by page, noting lines and scenes my readers took issue with – as well as anything I took issue with along the way, of which there is always plenty. By the time I got to the second hotel, I was ready for the hard part: developmental revision and drafting more scenes.

My goal for the trip was to finish a full, intensive revision that would get the manuscript into fighting shape so that I could send it to agents in 2025. I almost got there, around 95% of the way, and honestly with the amount of work it took I’m taking the A. It helped that I spent very little time outside my room, or even eating*** the lovely things I bought when I did venture out (Walla Walla is so charming! Why didn’t I do this somewhere shittier?). Of course, I did have to attend a three-course meal at the second hotel, for the article.

Sacrifices must be made

It was incredibly hard to be away from my family for so long (30 minutes north, in his office, my husband is nodding emphatically and he doesn’t know why – it was apparently a bit of a nightmare for the boys, too), but it was so good for me to delve back into my writing. I felt like myself again; not that I’m not myself at work or with my family, but, as my old therapist used to remind me, writing is a huge part of who I am. And writing for my paycheck doesn’t entirely fulfill that part of me.

Who knows when I’ll get the chance to finish that last 5%, let alone write a query letter and embark on yet another harrowing journey toward the ultimate goal of publication. But for now, at least I’ve touched base with my work and reminded myself how much I can accomplish when I make space for myself. And that’s a pretty big win.

Recent Writing

A bunch of new scenes for my novel and a bunch of articles for the magazine I edit! No links for you today, sorry – this newsletter will have to suffice. I’ve got a few pitches ruminating but who knows if I’ll ever actually send them.

Oh, fine! Twist my arm. Here’s the story from that Seattle trip I mentioned in my last newsletter. I also recommend keeping an eye out for the piece I wrote in our October issue about wine tasting in Langley, B.C., which is hopefully at least half as much fun to read as it was to experience. You’ll just have to wait for the Walla Walla one; print moves slowly.

Recent Reading

Oh have I got a couple of books for you!

First, I have to tell you about The Measure, by Nikki Erlick. Oof, this book is a masterpiece. It’s a rare example of what happens when an author comes up with a super compelling premise – one day, everyone on earth who’s 22 or older gets a box, and inside that box is a piece of string that represents the remaining length of their life – and delivers on it with characters you can’t help but care about and a plot that’s just plot-y enough without feeling gimmicky. Just read it. You’ll be glad you did.

And then there’s This Is How It Always Is, by Laurie Frankel, which came out in 2018 but which I’m glad I didn’t read until I had a kid, because the parenting! My god! I swooned with recognition of the love I feel for my own child and I ached for the parents’ complicated feelings about their youngest child’s transition and I grimaced at the challenging decisions that transition (and, more to the point, the rest of society) threw at their family… Ugh it is so good and I miss it now that I’ve finished.

I’ve read other books too, of course, some of which I’ve really enjoyed. But these are the major standouts and I won’t muddy their star power with other recommendations.

A Random Joy

Our son has been obsessed with the idea of Halloween for ages now, but I was sure he’d be ambivalent at best about the scary stuff, like skeletons and monsters. While our door skeleton isn’t the most terrifying of decorations, I did not expect my kid to become friends with him. He won’t leave or enter the house without stopping to hold the skeleton’s hand and say hello or goodbye. It’s a delay I’m willing to endure because it is extremely cute.

* Yep, still beating that particular dead horse…though I spoke with a hybrid publisher today and while her assessment of the market matched my own dark perspective she did give me some interesting information to work with re: potential self-publishing.

** Love you, Magda! It’s not your fault you’re too highbrow for me <3

*** The Adderall I’ve been taking since a recent ADHD diagnosis, which supresses my appetite, definitely played a part in this…but it also helped me get a lot done in a short period of time without panicking or self-flagellating, so it was worth it.