Untraditional Broad, Traditional Approach

“I was summoned twice. Once for Starbucks. Once for money. That’s the whole damn thing these days I guess. I’m basically a walking ATM with a good playlist and a driver’s license.”

The sunshine is teasing the f*ck out of me right now. I’m writing this from Starbucks, longingly staring out the window, feeling like a fish trapped in an aquarium.

My birthday was on Sunday. Jacob’s was on Tuesday. Spring Break landed in the middle of all of it, which meant I took my laptop to the mall coffee shop one of the days so Josey and her friend could get out and be feral teenagers in peace. I was summoned twice. Once for Starbucks. Once for money. That’s the whole damn thing these days I guess. I’m basically a walking ATM with a good playlist and a driver’s license. Ugh. Make it stop.

I know one day she’ll be gone and I’ll be exactly like those old people who count down to retirement for years — YEARS— and then arrive at their “final destination” and are completely bored out of their freaking minds within a month. I will need a hobby and my husband will need Xanax. And I will annoy the absolute crap out of Josey with calls and texts, and I know that with 1000% certainty.

For the birthday record: mine was spent in a gym watching volleyball — yes, obviously, fully on brand — and Jacob made me a loaded baked potato that was damn orgasmic. Yes I just called a potato orgasmic. Don’t judge me. On his birthday, we made him dinner, and last night we went out for Korean BBQ, which involved fire and meat and approximately a thousand side dishes. Perfect.

We are simple people who are paying the price for eating too much, still.

Okay. The book.

 One chapter this week. ONE bloody chapter. Making peace with that lack of progress. Part 1 is complete, and we just tipped into Part 2 — the first part came together faster than expected once I found the rhythm, and I’m trusting that the rhythm carries.

I’ve also been gathering intel on publishing this week. Self-published versus traditional. And here’s what I’ve learned: opinions are kind of like a**holes. Everyone’s got one.

Who the hell knows, I may change my mind on all of it in a week — because damnit, I’m a woman and that’s just what we do. Doing it in a logical, straightforward, linear way? Ha. That’s cute.

But today’s answer: I don’t know this industry. I was never in it. I didn’t write this book to figure out royalty structures. I wrote it because I had something to say and genuinely couldn’t not say it.

And I want it on a Target shelf.

I will literally die if that ever happens. I’ll be trying to play it cool and shameless taking selfies when see my own name on a spine, and fully leave my body right there on the linoleum. That is the dream. Not the margins. The dream is a stranger picking it up who didn’t know she needed it until it was already in her hands.

Traditional. We’re doing it right. (I think).

It’s good sh*t, if I don’t say so myself.

MANUSCRIPT STATS

 ✅ 19 chapters. Check.

✅ Part 1: Complete. We have a rhythm.

🔄 Part 2: Underway. One chapter in.

📚 Publishing direction: Traditional. Shelves, not hard drives.

👀 Agent search: Coming.