Surviving A Newborn Novel

Surviving A Newborn Novel

My best friend called about four days after the birth of my novel, just as she had called after the birth of my daughter seventeen months before.

“How are you?” she asked.

I had carried my cell phone out on the porch and stared across the field, seeing the clean green stripes where the farmers had cut the hay and let it bake in the July sun before they rolled it into bales.

“Well, I’m still in my pajamas,” I said. It was almost noon.

My best friend laughed, and I told her that my motivation was shot. I was stumbling around the house in circles, convinced that I was the only one who could take care of “my baby,” The Outcast, but yet not really knowing how. I was glued to the Internet, waiting for reviews or news . . . or really anything that would let me know that this newborn novel of mine was actually alive.

Being a little technologically impaired (or a lot, just ask my husband), those first two weeks I did not know to check for Amazon author rankings. If I had, I’m not sure I would’ve gotten out of those pajamas for a month. Still, I knew that those pesky yellow stars were important. I watched them like the stock market. It took ten 5-star reviews to make up for the 1-star that almost brought me to tears (I’ve since toughened up). I was on a rollercoaster of emotions and had no idea how to get off the ride. Plus, I was having a hard time sleeping or eating or holding a conversation that didn’t start or end with “hug me.”

I wanted to do something, go somewhere, but all I could do—before my mini book tour began—was wait and watch. And pick my split ends.

I couldn’t focus enough to write; I could barely focus enough to brush my teeth or clean the toilets. My cooking skills reverted back to my days as a newlywed, when I exploded pea soup on the ceiling and absently made hummus with garlic heads instead of cloves. I’m telling you, no vampires or cold bugs would touch us for years.

I am a stickler for a clean house (muddy shoes trekked across the hardwood floor make my eyes cross and nose twitch). But after my novel’s birth, I suddenly could care less. Dust bunnies trundled across my dirty kitchen floor like tumble weeds. Our stainless steel fridge was smattered with (gasp!) fingerprints. Leftovers started growing mold. The laundry started growing mold.

Then, slowly but surely, I started to find my equilibrium again, just as I had after the birth of my daughter (though, honestly, that took the entirety of ten months). Each day, I literally pulled the Internet cord out of the wall after I finished checking email and social media accounts. I got dressed; I brushed my teeth and flossed more thoroughly than that OCD guy in Stranger Than Fiction.

I knew that if I let negative—or even positive—reviews define my writing, that I would become so self-conscious that I would never become just a conduit for the words but force them through my mind like a sieve. So I forced myself to not pay attention. Or at least not pay attention all day. I began to read again, voraciously, like when I was a child growing up with 365 acres and no TV.

It worked. The words began to flow, and my focus returned. Though I thought it was impossible three months ago, I am now able to understand this publishing process by seeing it as three separate branches on the same tree: publicity for The Outcast, editing for The Midwife, and writing for Book #3.

Now, that’s not to say that the process is always easy. Sometimes one branch needs pruned back, as it’s overtaking the others and the careful balance of creative sustenance is lost. And soon, I will have to focus entirely on The Midwife so I can reach the editing deadline. But for now, it’s a rainy Saturday; my daughter is asleep in her crib; I have a steaming cup at my left and a hard-backed book on my right.

These are the tools I need for inspiration, not 5-star reviews or critical acclaim, so I am going to unplug again and dive into this new world and see what fruit this branch affords.

Writers, how do you find that careful balance of writing, editing, and publicity?