It’s natural to want to take stock of one’s life at the end of a year. Of course, my head immediately goes to Grosse Point Blank (1997), when Minnie Driver’s character–in talking about the impending ten-year high school reunion–encourages folks to “leave their livestock alone.” Yeah, well. This has been a weird year for me as a writer, and I want to talk about it.
One of the things I remember vividly about the run up to this year is that one of the 2023 debut authors encouraged us all to pre-define what success was going to look like for each of us in the 2024 debut group. What I consider “success” for me would certainly not look the same for anyone else… and pre-defining would mean finishing the year realistically and not letting myself get sucked into comparisons and feeling like a failure because of it. As it turns out, that was some wise advice. I remember that at the time, I was thinking I’d be happy with very little–a couple of events that were well attended, X number of copies of A Misfortune of Lake Monsters sold, a few good trade reviews, and a few people finding the book who really understood it and loved it. I knew AMOLM wouldn’t be a best-seller, nor would it get much if any media love (small press YA horror books so rarely get noticed–and considering the press who published AMOLM was sold off and let go of their marketing/publicity folks toward the end of the year, that made it less likely), and so I didn’t set crazy expectations.
Based on my initial goals, my year has been wildly successfully as a writer. AMOLM has sold pretty well–in some cases, selling more copies than the Big 5/big advance books of my peers. It held its own on the Amazon rankings against other YA horror novels released around the same time. I managed to snare some excellent author blurbs, and there were some truly fantastic trade reviews–even though I worried there for a minute after my first trade review came from Kirkus, who absolutely savaged the book. Reader response has been very good, and there were definitely more than a few people who found and adored AMOLM. I ended up doing nineteen in-person book events this year: one standing-room-only book launch, ten signings, seven panel discussions or conversation events (one in Iceland!), and one flash fiction workshop (the vast majority of those were super well attended). Some really wonderful bookstores opted to carry my book, and you can borrow a copy in over a hundred libraries. I did a dozen-plus podcasts, virtual interviews, etc. AMOLM was even on a year-end best-of list!
Comparison really is the thief of joy. There have been a few times I’ve felt let down/disappointed by things this year (primarily by things that were WAY out of my control), but overall, my expectations and goals have been absolutely met.
One thing I do hope for is that more people check out the AMOLM audiobook. It’s absolutely brilliantly done–the narrators chosen are fantastic. And, of course, I wish for things that all authors wish for–more marketing and publicity support from my publisher, a new book deal, etc. Again, things that are out of my control. I did all the things I could do and knew how to do to set this book up for success. Another piece of advice I’d been given early on, which turned out to be very, very true–publisher support and advocacy is what really moves the needle (in terms of distribution, discoverability, attention, etc).
Interestingly, I find myself ending the year at a bit of a crossroads. As much as I enjoyed the events I did related to the book and meeting readers, nineteen events is too many. It was typically one each week since July 2. There were only a few breaks, and in October I sometimes did two or three events in a week. It kept me from traveling for fun, which is something I need for my sanity. Part of me thinks it also kept me from writing much, but the truth is that I’m very much NOT motivated to write right now… and I haven’t been for several years. I’m not entirely sure WHY. Sometimes I think it’s because I’m ultimately disillusioned by my experience with literary agents and traditional publishing writ large (and look, I know I’m not alone there–reading about Bethany Baptiste’s experiences and intention to self-publish moving forward are affirming). Other times I worry it’s because my long COVID insomnia has robbed me of something. Maybe it’s the depressing state of the world (including the use of AI in publishing) or general ennui, or it’s that I’ve grown bored with what I’m doing. I genuinely do not know right now–and I don’t know what’s next.
Okay, that’s not entirely true. My short story “Everything In Its Place” will be published next month the Hauntings & Hoarfrost anthology from Tyche Books. There’s at least one creative nonfiction piece that’s been acquired for publication but on hold, and one pop culture essay acquired (related to Star Trek DS9) that will eventually come out. I’ve been submitting a short story that I like very much and hoping it finds the perfect home. I’ve been toying with the idea of self-publishing my unpublished YA horror/suspense novels that are complete (there are four, all of which are completely edited and ready to go, and I like them all very much) and concentrating on writing either adult horror/suspense or maybe something in an entirely different genre.
I still have ideas that inspire me to write. In fact, I’m constantly researching things–perfume, incorruptible saints, food, and bone churches, for instance–that sync up with my ideas. I outline short stories and novels pretty often. I wake up in the middle of the night with excellent plot twists. But actually doing the writing beyond a few hundred words here and there is like pulling teeth. Some days I think about calling it a career and moving on. Publishing is an area where declaring that you don’t want to do anything that doesn’t bring you joy might mean walking away, or at least finding a way to do things differently. In the meantime, I’m taking a bit of break just to read, and that’s been nice. I have 18 zillion books on my to-be-read pile, both the physical pile in my office and the digital pile in Kobo reader. Maybe reading and finding joy in what other people are writing will lead me back to joy in my own writing. Who knows?
