Holiday Break

a new year approaches

I had a long essay scheduled for today about solitude and then decided to save it for next year. This will be the last post for a few weeks and didn’t want to send everyone off with a message about seeking solitude at a time of year that is very much all about the opposite. Not that I blame you if you still seek it. Holidays aren’t everyone’s cup of tea.

A couple writing friends and I have been pep-talking ourselves as we creep closer to 2025. We’ve all felt 2024 wasn’t as good as we’d hoped and maybe next year will be different. I’ve felt his way the last, oh, four years or so, and each new January has yielded an interesting response. But here are my hopes for the coming year:

On the literary side, I have granted myself literary freedom to fuck around. Meaning, I broke up with my agent of ten years (completely amicably) because I’ve been feeling like it’s time to experiment again, like I did in the early years of writing where I wrote everything, submitted everywhere, and there were no strings attached or a career to worry about. I wondered if I’d regret this decision, but I don’t. She’s still my friend, and that’s what mattered most to me at this point. We had an incredibly successful run and although it hasn’t brought me fortune or fame, it brought me what I needed: proof I was good at something.

My writing has branched into crossover and adult writing quite a bit, and I do believe that’s where I’m mostly headed. In fact, I’ve already gotten an essay accepted into an anthology—more on that next year—and will be applying for a grant to work one-on-one with a mentor on my memoir as well. On a whim, I submitted an additional manuscript to a small press and they promptly asked for a full read and more time to review. So, I think this will be fun, this freewheeling, single writer life. And should I ever finish a stellar kids’ manuscript again, I’ll reevaluate. There’s something about being independent and hungry that has always made me a more prolific writer and having an agent can make you a little complacent. It did me, anyway, after some time. It can also be tiring to have to stick to industry rules and standards year after year because, damn, they are slow and picky. I’m looking forward to seeing what I can do with any random project I want.

On the day-job side, I completed a TEFL/TESOL cert which will allow me to teach conversational English online, or abroad, but no plans on that currently. Dogs make it impossible. My hope is to pull in some supplemental income this way, but I’m also keeping my eye open for a single role somewhere that encompasses everything I do.

In 2025, I’ll be turning 50. In my maternal family the women are all born on years that are divisible by 5, so 2025 is going to be a big one. 45 for my sis, 50 for me, 70 for my mom, 75 for my aunt, and 95 for my Mema. The matriarch, Mema, kicks it off in January, my 50th will end it next December. When I was younger I remember constantly saying “You will be published before 40”. It didn’t happen, but I kept trying and I did get published shortly after. Now I find myself saying, “You will have a real job by 50”, but that seems even less likely. But I’ll keep trying.

On the health side, for those of you who know Joe, he’s doing really well. It’s hard to believe two years ago was an entirely different story. We have no idea where things will stand two years from now, but we don’t dwell on that so much. We stay in today. One of the things we committed to earlier this year was our physical health. I started with a trainer in the beginning of the year and then in July we joined our gym and have been going most days ever since. Joe has regained his strength—or is maybe even stronger than he was before. Jerk. I’ve made great progress as well, increasing my cardio/weights as the weeks have passed. I never thought I’d enjoy the gym, but I do, and I miss it when I can’t go.

In fact, we are so determined to stay in it, we signed up for a Spartan Race for late next year. I’m equal parts excited and terrified. I want to do it so bad, but I really don’t know if my body is cut out for it. I’ve struggled with disc disease since my late-twenties, and I have diastasis recti, which is when your abdominal muscles split due to pregnancy. Both of these are improved with physical therapy and improving core strength, but have I been doing that over the last thirty years? Of course not, I’ve been writing books! Will 9 months be enough to get me ready? I have no idea. But I’m going to try.

I guess 2025 is going to look like every other year, as Taylor Swift says; “I’ve never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try”.

Happy holidays, my friends. And Happy New Year. I hope you’ll stick around and I’ll see you on the other side. One thing I know for certain about next year is that there are more words and conversations to come.

Take care

xo