1. Just a beginning
Hello friends,
I’m in the cozy position now where all my subscribers are indeed friends or fellow writers, and I can imagine each of you as I draft this post, cat at my elbow and fog rolling in. Still, I am nervous. I’m new to Substack and it feels like the first day of school. What if I say the wrong thing or fail to connect with anyone? No matter how many pieces one writes, the fear of being illegible seems present with each new try. I must remind myself that this is just a beginning — it won’t be perfect but I have to start somewhere.
Thank you for being here from the start! You likely found your way through my book announcement. Like any shiny Instagram post, there’s more to the story than a screenshot of success. While it’s tempting (maybe even savvy) to pretend that one’s book was undeniable and all doors flew open, the truth is that getting a book deal is a painful ambition to have. Ask the internet the odds of getting published, and most sources agree it’s between 1-2%. I track my writing rejections, and reached 100 just as I received my first offer from an agent. I crossed 200 rejections the week my offer from Counterpoint Press arrived.
This week, I had the first meeting with my editor at Counterpoint, Harry Kirchner. He is collaborative, gentle, and (lucky for me) undaunted by nontraditional structure. Among the books he has edited are powerful memoirs like Terese Marie Mailhot’s Heart Berries and Kristine S. Ervin’s Rabbit Heart. I’m grateful for his close attention to my manuscript, and that our intentions are aligned: to bring this book to its highest form.
Getting to this point was a goal out of reach for so many years. I started writing All of Us Wildflowers in 2015 (this is the fifth title I’ve tried on, and we may go back to the first — stay tuned). The longer and harder the road became, the more my desire expanded from the book itself to this very page we’re on together. I longed to make meaning from the struggle by offering what I’ve learned along the way. In sharing both the setbacks and small wins, I aim to keep hope burning for other writers on a slow path, other dreamers reaching towards a calling.
With each newsletter, you can expect an update on the book, a look back, a prompt or invitation, a reading recommendation, and a submission opportunity. I’ll aim for these posts to be brief, useful, and monthly.
Invitation
If you’d like, join me in starting something that makes you nervous this month. Whether it’s a scene in your book you’ve been putting off, a K-Pop dance class, or a new friendship.
Recommended reading
As I move through the day, what is most present on my mind is my sweet and saucy toddler. The soft squeeze of his hand, the way he wanted to kiss me goodbye this morning (not on the cheek, but on the top of my head), the mischievous dawn of his smile that reminded me of my mom’s when he said, “See you later…alligator!” I’m wondering now, is he having fun at school? Did I make the right decision to bring him there so I can work and write? There is pain and guilt in these questions as I seek permission for moments of physical separation more than two years after giving birth.
My friend, Mia Nakaji Monnier, captures so well the tenderness of toddlerhood as experienced by an artist, mother, weaver of words and threads. Her journaling prompts in each post are a gift as well. Here is one of my favorite pieces of hers: Against Futility: On the painful optimism of children’s books.
Submission opportunity
Do you have a full-length nonfiction book manuscript looking for a home? Split/Lip Press has a call for manuscripts open until December 1.
Until next time, wishing you brave beginnings.
