The Last Four Months
Sometimes you start things with the best of intentions, but life throws you a curveball. Shortly after finishing the first draft of Acorn and setting up this blog, J and I decided to pick up and move cross-country. The reasons for this are manifold, ranging from family to financial, and aren't particularly relevant to my writing project other than because they threw me way off schedule. I naively thought I could write another book, maintain a blog, work my full-time job, plan a huge move, and undertake a renovation all at the same time. I was wrong, and the hierarchy of needs unfortunately dictated that everything not directly related to keeping a roof over my head had to be put on hold.
We arrived in North Carolina two months ago and bought a tiny 2-bedroom house that hadn't seen so much as a stroke of new paint since the 1980s. Turns out it's really difficult to feel creative and productive as your husband loudly demos your bathroom across the hall.
The good news is that the reno is winding down (some of the house is actually livable!) and we are starting to establish a routine. That routine includes finally starting work on Sapling, the second book in the series.
Honestly, I can't be too hard on myself. Progress has been made. I am incredibly grateful to the friends and family who did beta reads on Acorn. I plan to write a future post about what I learned from that process. I have completed three rounds of edits and feel like I'm approaching the final copy. The fabulous Julianne May (https://juliannemay.com/) is working on cover art for all three books.
I am still very much committed to this process and plan to be back in full swing in the new year. I have to. This time away from writing has made me realize how passionate I am about this project. I have always wanted to be a writer, and I guess I am. But what you can't be without readers is an author. The only thing in the way of me leveling up is, well, me. And I have a lot of faith in me.
If you've made it this far through my ramblings, I have a holiday gift for you: a gratuitously cute photo of my dog who is pretty tired of us hauling her across state lines only to lock her in small rooms while we rip our house apart. Sorry, Zumi. Better times ahead.
