voice

It's the end of October, and as cliche as it is to say, I don't know where the month went. Last I knew we were gearing up for a road trip and various visits and field trips and a month of activities, and here we are on the other side with heads spinning and candy bowls overflowing and sugar highs all around. 

In the midst of the comings and goings of family life, this month I've made another push forward with agent queries. I've sent out quite a few, and have received quite a few more rejections. Some flat out no's, some encouraging messages, and another one to add to a growing pile of "I like the concept, but the voice is wrong for me." 

The voice is wrong. 

Of course, upon receipt of such feedback I spiral, thinking about how terrible my writing must be, and vividly picture myself throwing my novel into the recycling bin, all the notebooks and sticky notes, the printed - and digital - copies. I imagine what life would be like without writing. Reading for the sake of utter enjoyment, not ever thinking, "yeah, I'd like to write book someday." 

The thing is, I've already written a book. Several. I may need to write a few more for one to stick.

The other thing is, logically I know this is something newbie writers struggle with: finding their voice. 

I've been thinking for hours about voice. My voice. About how I've cultivated a voice in my blog writing, and in my longer Instagram posts, the style I write in, and the depths I dive. How I struggled to translate that into fiction, and how when I was writing Farm Girl, at times I felt like I was skimming the surface. How I didn't think the voice used in my creative non fiction was worthy of fiction. How every single time Tori Amos's song Silent All These Years plays I weep. About trusting our voices, no matter the context, no matter the medium, and how often I simply don't. How I use my voice, or don't, daily. How impossible it is to hear our own voices in the din of constant media thrown at us from all angles. How voice and ideas dance, and the execution of both is work. How no matter how many times I say, "if you bring a dish to the sink, and there's no dishes in it, please wash your dish" the dishes occasionally pile up in the sink.

I'm thinking about how the times I think least about the specifics of my writing voice (like getting it right...) the more authentic it is. 

Because let's face it, the Instagram captions and these blog posts get less attention than a single sentence of my novel... 

So, I'm thinking about voice today, and thinking about how the only way to really get to where I want to be is to write more. Here, there, everywhere. Because that pit in my stomach that comes up whenever I think about reading a really good novel and thinking to myself, "yeah, I tried doing that. It didn't work out," is uncomfortable, downright painful, and I'm not willing to live with it quite yet. 

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Currently...

I'm writing this on July 3rd, and it's beyond hot. My brain is fuzzy with the heat and humidity, and so for this weeks blog posts I'm turning to a tried and true journal prompt...

Currently I'm...

Reading... Enough as She is, by Rachel Simmons (it's for a book club on raising girls, but let me tell you... I'm getting just as much out of this book for myself as I am for Paige), and Somewhere Beyond the Sea by Miranda Dickinson. 

Playing... endless games of Exploding Kittens with the kids.

Watching... Nailed It on Netflix (if you need a good laugh, be sure to start with Season One!), and Death in Paradise, also on Netflix ;)

Listening to... Frank Turner, non stop since Lucas and I saw him play in Boston on Sunday. His new album, Be More Kind, is brilliant, especially his song of the same title, "In a world that has decided it's going to lose it's mind, be more kind, my friends, try to be more kind..." and his song The Way I Tend To Be, from an older album, has these lines which I simply adore: "Love is about the changes you make and not just three small words." 

Working on... reminding myself that only I can find my own internal motivation, self confidence, and self belief, no one can do it for me.

Eating... all things grilled. We made these Hawaiian Chicken Kebabs over the weekend, and they were a huge hit! 

Wanting... a new tattoo... 

Needing... to speak kindly to my body, and to drink more water.

Loving... summer evenings on our porch. We've embraced eating alfresco, and have been lingering after dinner. I'm loving the connections and conversations this time affords for the four of us nightly. 

Thinking... about the second rejection I received for my manuscript, and how the first one gained high fives, but the second one I kept to myself for a few days. It stung. Not because I expected to hear anything positive at this point, but because the reality of the long road ahead sunk in on an already difficult day. I let self doubt creep in, and I talked myself out of how much I wanted to be on this journey very quickly. Luckily, after a few days I found myself again... thanks to a husband who listens until I answer my own questions, some inner searching, and loads of journaling... and I'm in this for the long haul. {Editing to add... the universe is definitely testing me, almost as soon as I typed the words "long haul" another rejection letter came in! I'm handling it much better this week... so that's something!}

Feeling... hot. 

Celebrating... the patriotic act of dissent. 

Grateful for... beach days, live music, iced tea, summer dresses, and hope.

{The newsletter will be going out on Thursday, per usual, though it may be later on the day depending on if I have a chance to pull it all together on the 4th or not! If you haven't signed up and would like to, click here. My mailing list is, at this point, simply one email on the first Thursday of the month. I write a bit of a personal letter, share links that I've found interesting, and the most recent blog posts all in one place.}

Writing update: expectations, reality, and hope

The notebook pictured is full of scribbles pertaining to my novel. Several outlines, timelines, character sketches, full paragraphs, lines, sometimes only a word to jog my memory. It's fun to look through and see what stuck. What didn't. What might need to come back someday when an agent or editor has suggestions. 

Last week I began the process of querying literary agents. Prior to that I worked on a query letter template, with the help of a few patient people who held my hand and read my words. I struggled over tone, word choice, and how to capture the essence of a 100,000 word novel into three short paragraphs. But it's done, and after the first email submission, I felt a sense of relief. 

It's a process, getting your novel out into the world. I don't expect to hear anything from anyone anytime soon. But, I do hope that my email will fall into the right inbox at some point. 

Before I hit send to the first literary agent on my list, I had to dig deep and ask myself the question I've been avoiding for months:

Will I be okay with rejection? 

I don't truly know the answer to that. But I'm doing my best to keep my chin up. I hope that keeping some perspective about the business of publishing and realizing that it's all just the nature of the beast, and not necessarily my writing, will help. I've never taken rejection, or criticism well. Writing groups have helped me tremendously with handling criticism. But rejection, it still stings. The fear of it holds me back. But I'm tired of holding myself back, of giving in to fear and letting what I believe other people think of me and my work keep me from pursuing my dreams.

My goal for the summer is to send out as many query letters as possible, and hope that one will stick. While doing so, I'm planning on enjoying time with my children, countless trips to the beach, and some serious self care rituals and routines. For me, that includes getting up early, writing morning pages while sipping tea, exercise, dry brushing {I find it so therapeutic! Look it up if you haven't heard of it}, drinking lots of water, connecting with my husband, and remembering that while my book and my writing is important to me, my worth, my value as a human being, does not rely on finding an agent, and having my book traditionally published. 

But yeah, it'd be nice if I could find a literary agent to represent my book sooner rather than later. 

Managing expectations and reality while staying mildly optimistic will be the true work of my summer. Maybe my life...