part one here

every time i finish drafting a novel, i make it about a week into recovering from writing a novel and then the urge to write a new, different novel becomes too great to ignore. this is deeply inconvenient but also has lead to me writing some very good novels, so…i dunno.

i just finished drafting a novel. well, i finished drafting it in june, but i just finished revising it and am letting it sit for a little before i send it to my agent (who currently has a different, older novel in her reading queue, and i don’t want to be greedy with her time). a couple generous writer friends are reading it, which is definitely not occupying all of my brain.

as you may recall, i already had a new novel idea while i was writing this one. and i’ve written, uh, like 8k of it. that’s 10 percent! naturally, i’ve written a whole lot of not-really-plot stuff, because I was doing it for funsies.

i don’t want to work on that novel (which i am calling the mfa novel) right now, although i do hope to write it soon. i don’t know what i want to do. i’m honestly kinda depressed. this is normal for me! it happens every time i finish a book! i hate it with every fiber of my being!

the depression is at least partly because the constant work of writing a novel is suddenly absent from my life, and that absence leaves room for the doubts, the voices reminding me that none of my other novels are published so why would i bother writing one more?

in september 2019, i had been submitting short fiction unsuccessfully for four years (full disclosure, i had sold a poem and a micro). i wondered if there was actually any point in torturing myself with the constant rejection, and i almost decided to stop—but then i sold my first story.

in march 2024, i had been querying agents unsuccessfully for (nearly) four years. i wondered if there was actually any point in torturing myself with the constant rejection, and i almost decided to stop—but then i signed with kate.

if i have to spend four years on sub before i sell a novel, i think i will actually die. i don’t have another four years of hope in me.

hahaha that got bleak! anyway!

so i am trying to prevent myself from starting another novel. and in order to do that, i need enrichment in my enclosure, but i also need to slow down. writing a book in three months and editing it in another two, while plotting out and sneaking in writing on another book, is a huge energy drain. i’m not worried about how long (or short) it took me to draft the book, but i need to find better ways to spend my time when i’m not actively writing, whether it’s days off while drafting or time between projects.

i got some books.

actually, i got these a month ago, with a birthday giftcard. but i am currently reading the creative habit by twyla tharp and it’s doing big fireworks brain explosions. i might send another email just about this book. the bulk of it is about building habits to support creating, which is kind of the opposite of taking a break, but i am reading it, not acting on it.

also on my stack: my agent’s book, my dear friend nova’s latest young adult novel, and nonfiction about women in fashion.

up next: leaving the house. i’ve been going to more book events this year. i’m going to a concert this weekend, my 15-year-old’s first. i got (also for my birthday, from my friend andrew) a book about sketching, and i’m thinking about learning how to draw. (the urban sketching handbook is a whole series, and i plan to pick up this one by the artist behind one of my favorite instagram accounts.) i’ve been hanging out with friends more—may i recommend costco dates? i’m trying to live my life and not spend the whole thing writing. (but also i want to spend the whole thing writing.)

this rambling email has no thesis and no conclusion, but i think i had better send it before another month and a half has gone by with no emails because i can’t finish one.

xxoo
annika

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