Some Essential Thing

Hello!

I’ve been away from Substack far too long—but I’ve been busy! That Pinson Girl released February 6, and the weeks since have been a fun ride. We’ve had three book events so far: a great celebration of the novel at my beloved local indie, Lemuria Bookstore in Jackson, MS, Friendly City Books in Columbus, MS, and Novel in Memphis, TN. You rock, indie book stores!

But—it’s a huge but, and how to explain it?—there’s another side to two years’ worth of anticipation and the exhilaration of finally standing in front of a crowd and reading from the novel.

I should have expected the Big Let-down, but I didn’t. I’ve read about it; it isn’t unique to me. After months of “busyness”—proofreading, planning marketing and publicity and events, learning to create social media graphics, writing companion essays, and hoping somebody will read and review the book—the momentum has lagged. There isn’t as much to do, and I’m feeling a little lost.

Maybe that’s the angst I’m feeling: it’s as though my breath comes short because some essential thing is missing from my life.

What else is lost?

Writing. I’m finding it hard to get back into the groove. I dabble here and there, push words around, maybe add a few new ones. Not that there isn’t work to do; there is! A partial draft of a sequel to That Pinson Girl awaits, and a couple of other novel drafts could use the same kind of rigorous revision I gave TPG two years ago. There’s a short fiction collection just shy of being ready to send around. So why can’t I get into them?

Because. Because. Because it’s hard. Because once I lose momentum, it’s hard to pick up where I left off. Because, even if I were to finish another book, once it’s done, there are no guarantees it’ll see the light of day, and even it were to land somewhere, there’s the slog to publication, and maybe I’ll run out of time.

So why do it at all?

My answer is that I can’t not write. As hard as it sometimes is, as uncertain as the outcome is, writing has become as much a part of me as breathing. Maybe that’s the angst I’m feeling: it’s as though my breath comes short because some essential thing is missing from my life. The only way to fix it is to take it one word at a time.

That’s what I’ll do.

What’s your answer? How do you face the blank page again, as though it’s the first time?

###

[If you’d like to know where That Pinson Girl is going next, visit the Events page on Gerry's website.]