The real-time diary of writing a book and trying to get it published. It's a wild ride, y'all.
A crown breaking on a Montana highway. A query letter rewritten three times until it stopped sounding safe. This is the real, weekly, occasionally-unhinged account of writing a book while running a business — the wins, the rejections filed under "weather," and everything in between.
New post every Friday, straight to your inbox. Come for the chaos, stay for the chapters.
You're So Vain, I Bet You Think This Book Is About You
Someone finally made me an offer, and I didn't even submit my work to them. It's not exactly the one I'd hoped for, but after six crickets and no-thank-yous? So you're telling me there's a chance.
Giant Baby Here
Today's oral surgery left me with a drilled hole in my gums, and Claude turned my daughter's last words about her Grammy into something she never said. Some weeks are just holes and bad AI. Here's that one.
The F*ck It Bucket
Finding an agent that's an ideal fit is like Where's Waldo on crack. But I found my book's voice to pitch it properly and differentiate. Sidenote…chewing noises made me murdery.
Barely Contained
37% contained is the fire. Barely contained is me. This week the book asked for more than I had to give, including an unexpected full a** book proposal I didn't see coming. I didn’t see much of what came to life coming until it was here.
Filter Thyself, or Don't
Filtering thyself should be a sin. I keep learning that lesson and forgetting it by the next query. This week's version of the lesson, a client, and a very stubborn me.
Out the Who-Ha
One rejection. One "resubmit." One manuscript I accidentally sent unedited. Weird, but true anomaly: querying and volleyball tryouts run on similar odds. I did the math.