Coming Clean About the Mess

Busy, busy, busy — writing the 4th book, getting up to speed with the fantastic person who's handling publishing and promotion; working with an editor who loves book 1, Vanishing Mia, enough to poke at weaknesses; celebrating the unexpected gift of a second editor who considers a typo in a published document a personal affront; getting an author website up and running. 😰 

This is what we say when we've been out of touch for too long. Too busy! But that's not the whole truth, is it?  

The real answer waits—lurks actually—in the pause between finishing a sentence and letting anyone read it. 

So, yeah, sure. Recent weeks disappeared in a blur of meetings, reviewing edits, trying on book cover design approaches, and hunkering down after all the meetings to decide whether reviewing edits or writing was the best use of time. 

But it also vanished (pun intended) behind that familiar pattern of getting so absorbed in the work that I forget about the sharing. Maybe some avoidance going on? 🤔 

Vanishing Mia  is getting her final polish, preparing to meet the readers who've been waiting for her. Vanishing Chiara  and Vanishing Kofi  are chomping at the bit for their turn in the publisher's equivalent of the makeup artist's chair. An exciting new character just walked on stage in book four, Vanishing Silas. She's a pistol: making me laugh out loud even as she reveals devastating history about "that little girl's cold case" that will shock and thrill. 

And for someone like me, who could happily tinker toward perfection forever, there's the necessary surrender of that particularly heinous ego trip—the very idea that 100% perfection is possible. (It isn't.) Or desirable. (Should it be?) 

But somewhere in all that forward momentum and obsessive editing, I forgot: Sharing the messy, uncertain, vulnerable part is important. Some readers want to hear about it. 

Well, here you go: It is  a mess! Who's responsible for what? Schedules fraying all over the place. The excitement of working with an editor who sees what I'm trying to do and helps me do it better sits right beside the feeling of "less than" when mistakes are made. The relief of finding someone who loves the administrative and promotional side so I can focus on the creative side stands alongside not knowing all that has to be done—let alone whether everything is being done! 

The strange mix of pride and panic when I realize right there—see it? On the horizon—not only my celebration of the end of my 70th year on the planet, but also when The Vanishing Series's protagonist Mia—who popped into my head two-and-a-half years ago—steps out in front of everyone. 

I've been so busy preparing to be vulnerable that I forgot to actually be  vulnerable. 

Growth isn't linear. Just when I think I've conquered a fear or moved past a pattern, life presents me with a new level of the same challenge: high stakes get higher, low-lying fear digs deeper, the potential for successes and failures every creative endeavor brings becomes more real. 

So here I am, catching up, coming clean—not just when the work is done and polished, but during the messy middle of actually doing it. Things are moving fast and it's gettin' real, y'all. 

I've been a professional writer since I was 23 years old. 'Author' is not a word I ever imagined my name would be associated with, and writing a book series and having it published definitely not something I imagined accomplishing. But here we are. 

And holy-moly: Am I scared.