i haven't sent out a newsletter since january of this year, which feels like it happened a decade ago and also yesterday. i thought about resolving, in a new years-y way, to be more diligent about this newsletter in 2022, but i don’t really go in for resolutions anymore.
i like them in fiction, though. i love that big turn in the final third of the book, when your protagonist is finally done running or scheming or maneuvering away from the climax of the book, and decide to run toward it instead. when they’ve been through hell and decide to raise some of their own. when they’re beaten but not broken, when they look up at the camera, artfully scuffed-up, visibly staggering—and smile.
it’s a tricky move to pull off, though. sometimes you can feel an author puppeting their character through an unearned moment of resolve, going through the motions of balled fists, gritted teeth, taking a stand. the ones that work are the moments that are actually comprised of dozens of smaller moments—all the little choices and moments of a character’s arc that lead them here. resolutions aren’t about the future, at all—they’re about the past.
so here’s everything i did in 2021:
a spindle splintered, my first novella, came out in october. it was an indie next pick, a goodreads choice nominee, an NPR Books We Love pick, and earned out its (modest!) advance in about a month.
my five year old lost his first two teeth.
the once & future witches spent three weeks as a new york times paperback bestseller. appearing on any List is more of a testament to the hard labor and talent of booksellers, marketers, publicists, reviewers, and readers than it is to the writer's, but still, as my agent said, with an admirably sharky gleam in her eyes: "we get to put that on your books forever."
my 3yo agreed, under specific circumstances and with substantial bribery, to wear clothes. (offer does not include socks, gloves, or hats; the clothes cannot be "too wiggly" and must feature rainbows, hearts, flowers, or certain superheroes. the list of approved superheroes may be changed at any time without warning, including after the clothes have been put on)
i spent an unwell number of hours on twitter
the special subterranean press edition of ten thousand doors came out (it’s sold out!), and i got the original painting by charles vess. i’m picking it up from the frame shop tomorrow. (rovina cai is doing the art for once & future witches and it’s absolutely sick)
i hand-sewed a batgirl costume. (the 3yo did not wear it)
my husband finished my beautiful, idyllic writing cabin!
we sold our house and the land and the beautiful idyllic writing cabin and packed everything we own into a uhaul--including two cats, more than a dozen houseplants, an ancient deaf border collie, and two young children--and drove it over state lines. i always thought i'd stay in kentucky, always thought I'd dig my fingers into the dirt and hang on, come hell or high water or the midterm elections. but in the end, i left.
i wrote and submitted my third novel. it's about a girl who doesn't leave.
i wrote, submitted, and edited a mirror mended, the sequel to a spindle splintered. it's about finding home, too, but with more jokes.
the house came with seven hens. all seven are still alive.
i went to france!
i went on a book tour!
i got hand foot & mouth disease!
and panic attacks!
i developed and pitched a tv show
then sold it and started writing it. (that's all i can tell you unless you're related to me by blood, marriage, or have ever shared bad beer with me around a bonfire)
i read so many regency romances. like, you don’t even know.
i published a short story in apex magazine. it's called "mr. death" and it's about the impersonal bureaucracy of death and the painfully personal business of living. it's pretty rough--there's a sick kid and a grim reaper--but i don't do sad endings.
my 5yo started kindergarten and got vaccinated!
i’m tired. i’m proud. i’m going into 2022 sweaty and wrung out, artfully scuffed-up, staggering, looking up at the camera—and smiling.
happy new year. xo
Just read this after letting it sit in my inbox (which is my to-do list) ((which means sometimes I get stuff done WAY after the fact)) (((I'm sorry))) and it was worth the wait. You have such a way with words, and until I can buy you a beer to thank you in person for all the joy you've brought to my little world, I'll just keep buying your books and recommending them.
"resolutions aren’t about the future, at all—they’re about the past." I loved this! Totally agree. I might even extend it to say they're so often about changing the future to fix the past. I think you've pulled off the artfully scuffed-up character moment-- congrats on all you've done and on making it through the year.
I somehow missed the short story, so thanks for sharing it!