I may have mentioned a time or twelve that I love words. I love writing them, reading them, even surrounding myself with them. I’m pretty sure wooden word decor (think: “Blessed” or “Live, Laugh, Love”) is now akin to the side part and the skinny jean, but I never claimed to be on the cutting edge of style.
So if I love words so much, why haven’t I been posting lately? (Hint – It’s not because blogging also went the way of the side part, since we’ve just established coolness is largely irrelevant to my life.) I have been busy working on some other writing projects. I’ll tell you a secret. I am querying a novel right now. It’s actually my third. I wrote one before this that I never sent out, and one several years ago that I only sent to a handful of agents before moving on. I have received some interest with this one, but so far no offers.
While I wait (and wait), I am starting my next book. You always have to look forward, right? Because if you look back you will be embarrassed by the drivel you created years ago.
I really don’t have time for all this writing. After all, two kids and two businesses. So I write in the car at school pick-up, during my son’s karate class, and while sitting on the couch watching football with my family.
And beyond that, I’m completing a do-it-yourself Master of Fine Arts of sorts. This season of my life doesn’t lend itself to a formal program, so as much as I love school, I am taking this one into my own hands. I’ve listened to all the writing podcasts I can find (there are lots!), and I’m working my way through all the craft books those podcasters have mentioned (again, lots). I am exploring my process, mulling over plotting and pacing. Revisiting old YA favorites, studying opening lines, story structure and stakes, and creating character bios and outlines.
I used to think that a writer was just something you WERE. (Hi, I’m Jessica. I have blue eyes and I’m a writer.) Then, several years ago, I realized it was a thing you did. (As in, to be a writer, you actually have to write something. A novel concept, I know. Pun intended.) And now I’ve come to realize that a writer is something you are continually becoming.
So that is what I intend to do. And this is me calling my shot. (Gulp!) I am going for it, guys. I’m going to publish a novel. Maybe it’s this one, or the next one, or the fifth one after that. But I think it’s going to be the one I’m starting right now.
Wish me luck!