Taking Your Art Seriously (Without Being a Serious Jerk)

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September blustered in with rainstorms and sourdough; I answered by lighting flickering candles in the early morning hours and serving apple cake to wiggly children for an after-school snack. September brings many things but my favorite to receive is a return to routine. This school year, for the first time in ten years, I have every single week day morning to myself (unless someone is barfing/down with pink eye/spiking a fever/nursing the flu/ET CETERA). I put those babies on the bus and I return to the quiet of my living room, clutching a coffee and blasting my ASMR.

I’m a big fan of goal setting and September always serves as a good time to recenter and reorganize. One goal I’ve added on midyear this go around: to take myself more seriously as an author.

For me, this means all kinds of things, including dropping more dollar than ever before on new author headshots. Why? Not because authors need fancy headshots, but because I want to take myself seriously. It means asking marketing teams to pitch me for events, and to follow up. Why? Not because I need to be everywhere all the time, but because I want to take myself seriously. It means always keeping the child reader in mind when writing kid lit and holding myself to a very high artistic standard, occasionally pushing back on editorial notes. Why? Not because I’m a genius who can’t handle correction, but because I want to take myself seriously. I want to stop feeling like I’m playing pretend-author and actually take up a bit of space in that room.

I saw someone the other day post online that as an author of two books…insert-very-authoritative-tone-here. I was like, huh. What do I have to say after thirteen1, which my newest middle grade will be? I certainly don’t think I have all the answers or have much of anything in publishing figured out. But I do think I could walk with a little more of that chutzpah.

I realized: I’m still waiting for the fancy New York people to realize I snuck in the back door.

I think midwesterners have a really particular obsession with being seen as humble, as small, as easy to work with. I’d rather someone accuse me of gruesome murder than of having diva-like tendencies. We are a people who will not send back cold restaurant food, you know what I mean? So I sometimes feel stupidly uncomfortable in the world of publishing, where you essentially have to put yourself out there with a brash confidence. Some of the things I see from authors—complaining about publishers, demanding book tours, venting about bookstores that don’t stock their books—send my jaw to the floor. I practically fall to my knees and thank every single bookstore owner who would ever put one of my stories on the shelves. I literally can’t imagine publicly lambasting some underpaid, overworked marketing assistant for not securing enough #BookTok mentions for me.

But that can backfire at an excess. That can lead to crouching in a corner with your hands up. It can lead to oh-sure-whatever-you-say’ing when you know a choice isn’t right, or at least, you feel quite strongly and haven’t yet voiced your valid opinion.

Imposter syndrome is a type of false humility: acting like your art doesn’t matter when you do. Do all writers need to shell out cha-ching for professional headshots? No. But maybe for you, it’s more like:

• Letting your kids watch some (le gasp) television so that you can work on your poem. Why? Not because it’s due or because you have a paycheck waiting, but because you’re a writer.

• Saying you write when someone asks what you enjoy doing, and not awkwardly insisting it’s just this little thing you do for fun, lol, don’t look at me.

• Insisting on the integrity of your work, while remaining humble and open to feedback.

• Reading at an open mic, for no other reason than you wrote something and you want people to hear it.

• Perusing books on craft that aren’t terrible, which are few and far between. But treating your art as something to study, something you can improve upon that isn’t just dumb luck.

• Updating your website and sweeping out the cobwebs in its corners.

All of this to say: you have the right to take yourself seriously. And it doesn’t mean you’re a diva, or a sellout, or a jerk face. It means you worked hard to earn your seat at the metaphorical table, so sit there like you belong.

Not all writers are visual but I am supremely imaginative in that sense. I almost always have a specific character I’m picturing; even if it’s just a vague Pinterest photo, it’s helpful for me to have an image to work from. Here’s the assembled cast of Each and Every Spark, were I casting its movie, and a bit about some of the characters you’ll get to meet:

Penny Marks: Played by Sophie Grace. Forced to move across the globe for her mom’s job in 2026, Penny is less-than-thrilled about her new home. A former artist who recently quit painting lessons, Penny is intrigued by a painting her artist-mother finds in the remains of a crumbling apartment under construction. Questions she has: who painted it? How did it get behind a wall? And when the heck can her family get back to the land of Diet Coke and air conditioning?

Marie Bonnet: Played by Shay Rudolph. Forced to live in occupied Paris in 1943, Marie’s life has become one of drudgery and despair. That is, of course, until she meets her sister’s new friend: Jeanne, a girl who’s working to free the city from Nazi rule.

Héloïse Bonnet: Played by Sarah Ramos circa Parenthood era. Marie’s sister, who’s desperate to get through the occupation with her family intact. As a maid at the Ritz, she’s in a very precarious position: one that provides her with both a stable income and an opportunity to eavesdrop on the enemy. But her suspicions about her new friend Jeanne are more unsettling than she’d like to admit.

Jeanne: Played by Allison Williams circa Girls era. Jeanne is one of the bravest people Marie has ever met. But she seems to have secrets she’s keeping from the Bonnet sisters. Is she really who she says she is—and more importantly, can she really be trusted? Ties a fabulous scarf.

Adrien: Played by Eoin Bailey circa 2001. The Bonnet sisters’ neighbor, whose suspicions around what they’ve been up to will soon come to light. He’s been like a brother to Marie for as long as she can remember—so why doesn’t he understand how important it is for her to help the resistance? Why can’t he be as brave as Jeanne has been, and why do the two of them dislike each other? Works at a cafe. Expert at keeping his head down.

Pippa Marks, aka Mom: Played by Julia Roberts. After spending over a decade full-time parenting her three rowdy children—Matthew, Mason, and Penny—she’s diving back into the career world. Can she do so without completely losing the last few braincells that being classroom mom/Girl Scout troop leader/team parent volunteer hasn’t sucked out of her? Only time will tell.

There are many more characters in this book, but that’s just a few to wet your whistle. And if this got you hyped for Each and Every Spark, please consider a preorder. Casual reminder that preorders are very, very, very important when it comes to how well a book does—meaning how many books a publisher will buy from an author in the future. So thank you for your consideration!

Barnes and Noble is currently having a preorder sale (which ends today). Members can use code preorder25 to get 25% off Each and Every Spark or my new adult novel, The Very Best Mother, releasing May ‘26.2

From the Edgar Award nominated author of What Happened to Rachel Riley? comes an engrossing, timely, and propulsive story of two girls in Paris—one living under Nazi rule in the 1940s; the other in present day—and the mysterious painting that unites them. Perfect for fans of The Bletchley Riddle and When We Flew Away.

Paris, present day. Penny Marks has never felt so alone. Forced to move to France for some fancy job her mom couldn’t turn down, she’s now miles away from her old life. If she hadn’t quit art after all that drama went down last year, she’d at least have something to keep her mind off the fact that life back home is moving on without her.

Paris, 1943. Marie Bonnet has never felt so afraid. When the German army seized power over France, she and her sister Heloise watched their father get taken away, leaving them on their own. Then Marie finds evidence that Heloise has secretly been working for the French Resistance—a group of rebels set on a Nazi takedown—and while it has danger written all over it, she's desperate to join. Any small act of uprising could help their country…but it could also cost them their lives.

Penny and Marie’s worlds collide when an old painting resurfaces in present-day Paris after decades of being hidden. Along with it is a note whose message may lead Penny to Marie…and the fate that awaited her. Available 2/17/26.

(Psst, teachers—I’m working on something very special for you to help with teaching Each and Every Spark in the classroom! Stay tuned.)

"Each and Every Spark is an enthralling story of resistance, and a timely reminder: that beauty and truth are worth fighting for, and that the courage to do so transcends generations." — Kate Albus, award winning author ofA Place to Hang the Moon

"I was caught up in the interconnected lives of Penny and Marie, two brave and passionate girls living in Paris at two very different times, and the reminder of the role art plays as a messenger of hope and beauty in their world — and ours." — Caroline Starr Rose, author of May B. and The Burning Season

Preorder EACH AND EVERY SPARK

And lastly, a book (or two) I’ve loved lately for…

Picture book fans: I’m convinced that September is the absolute perfect time to curl up with a giant stack of picture books. We recently found a new favorite: Devin Elle Kurtz’s The Bakery Dragon, a supremely sweet tale of a dragon who falls in love with a new type of gold. I could croon over the sweet illustrations all day, and each and every kid begged for it multiple nights in a row.

Middle graders: I have to fess up—I didn’t read any middle grade this month! I was so busy puttering around with my own work-in-progress that when it came time to read, I wanted to get out of middle school. I did listen to the new audiobook of Tuck Everlasting narrated by Alexis Bledel, for what it’s worth!

My kids recommend: Benjamin (9) read approximately 20 book in the Bad Guys series this month. Are they good? No. Are they beautiful? No. Are they high literature? No. Are they even that appropriate? No. And yet, it’s hard for me to rip a series out of a little boy’s hands when he’s cackling that hard at the fart jokes. Tess (7) would like to throw her hat behind One Girl's Voice: How Lucy Stone Helped Change the Law of the Land by Vivian Kirkfield with exquisite illustrations by Rebecca Gibbon. She inherited her love of all things suffrage movement from her mother. Bridget (4) restarted ballet this week, which means we’ve been going through a series Angelina Ballerina (by Katharine Holabird) phase.

Adults: I’ve been blowing through the non-fiction lately, and two that I greatly enjoyed were The Witches by Stacy Schiff (all about the Salem Witch Trials, but reads like a novel—perfect for this time of year!) and Wild Things: The Joy of Reading Children’s Literature as an Adult by Bruce Handy (which I would heartily recommend for anyone who frequently deals with children—writers, parents, godparents, teachers, librarians, etc.)

Lastly, I’m planning to share a lot more of my historical fiction research process over on the ‘gram over the coming months, so if you ever spend time in that particular digital playground, make sure to give me a follow.