Zestful Blog Post #94
I’m writing this with pen and paper at my kitchen table and
wanted to refresh my memory as to where I’d left off last week. Looking at my
blog on my phone, it seems so—gosh, professional. Soon I’ll type this entry into
my laptop and it’ll be my standard draft-and-a-half, and good enough for jazz,
as they say in the music biz.
Recently I gave an interview to a journalist who is writing
an article about how writing by hand is beneficial. She had read You've Got a Book in You (and nicely
highlighted it in an article last year) and remembered that I’d put in some
stuff about writing longhand. It was a fun interview, and during it I learned
that writing longhand appears to be beneficial on the biochemical level, not
just the spiritual one, as I had believed. Will let you know when that article
comes out.
Winnie-way, as my old clarinet teacher used to say, during
2010-2013, I had a lot going on personally and professionally.
I’ll call this installment of EPH (Elizabeth’s Publishing
History):
#13 Home Front Madness
Within the space of three years, Marcia and I experienced
the partial destruction of our home on Washington’s Olympic Peninsula in a force-9
storm, a cross-country move and attendant farewells to many dear friends, the
decline and deaths of both of our mothers, the dispersal of their households,
the purchase and extensive renovation of a home, another, local move, tropical
storm damage to that home requiring large-scale repairs, as well as the death
of another family member whose estate I was charged with distributing.
Oh, plus the near death and lengthy hospitalization of yet
another family member, a heart scare for Marcia, and the beginning of a
physical issue for me that would culminate in surgery in 2014. If we’d had a
dog, I’m sure it would have gotten run over. But it wouldn't have died before
we’d spent $5,000 at the vet and taken turns doing night shifts to administer
round-the-clock medicine and supplements for three weeks.
Meanwhile, we both did what we could to maintain our
careers. While acting as primary caregiver for my mom, I wrote articles for Writer's Digest, taught online webinars
for their organization, did reporting and photography stringer work for the
local paper, auditioned for and got a place in a local symphony orchestra,
worked as a private manuscript consultant, got my rights back to my novels,
reissued them in e-book (Kindle) form, spoke and taught at writing affairs on
both coasts, and began work on Lillian Byrd #5 (Left Field).
Also during that period I wrote a proposal for You've Got a Book in You, got under contract
for it, wrote it, saw it published, and did promo for it.
Looking back on all that, even in its most skeletal form, I
can’t be surprised that I felt depressed and overwhelmed at times. I used to
joke about shooting myself in the head if one more goddam thing went wrong. But
I was careful to leave the firearms unloaded, which would have forced me to
take the extra step of selecting and loading ammo, which hopefully would have
given me time to reconsider.
I feel that only recently has my life become more or less
stable. We have the freedom of working all day, every day, without having to
factor in 3 a.m. distress calls from panicked old ladies.
Marcia is thrilled to be immersed in coding full time, and I
can’t wait to show off her new work when it's ready to ship. Apart from writing, I do my shoulder
exercises, swim at the Y, and play a little golf. Florida is beautiful in the
winter. Hurricane season is just around the corner.
Next week I swear I’ll tell the story of how You've Got a Book in You came about, and
why I chose to go the traditional publishing route with it. After that, why I
chose to go indie with Left Field.
But for now, Jesus, I’m exhausted.
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