A Novel Year — Reflections on becoming a full-time writer

Exactly one year ago, on September 27, 2022, I became a full-time writer. Not that I’ve been paid a dime, but I sold much of my stuff and have lived frugally off my savings. It’s been an investment in myself, because I don’t think I’d have been able to write a book in a year (or in five years) had I not fully committed to the endeavor.

On that day, in my Brooklyn apartment, surrounded by boxes, before moving in with Curtis, I sat at my antique kidney-shaped desk to work on my novel. I’d written bits and pieces over the previous few months, mostly on weekends, so my manuscript already contained 3856 words. By the time I closed my computer that afternoon, the word count had climbed to 4454. Not quite the 1000 words per day that I’d heard should be my goal, but as I quickly learned, some days I’d write far fewer than a 1000 words, and on other days I’d write just a few more.

Brooklyn, September 2022

One year later, having written from North Carolina, Upstate New York, Florida, and Ohio, I have a 90,000 word draft I believe is good enough to send to agents. (They, of course, will be the judge of that.) I’ve likely written over 200,000 words, but these 90,000 are my best. The story is close to what I’d imagined a year ago, but oh so much richer. This is what I wrote then, and I stand by it, but have sharpened my pitch here:

Spingler’s Farm (working title) tells the stories of two interconnected families over four generations, from the late 18th century through the Civil War. It starts with Mary Spingler, whose farm transformed into New York’s Union Square and several blocks to its west, making her descendents some of New York’s wealthiest. Wealth did not always equal happiness, however. And Philis, enslaved by the Spinglers, who, like her own descendants, made bold moves despite persistent discrimination. As the story proceeds, it re-centers on members of both families so that readers experience varying points of views. Ultimately, Spingler’s Farm reveals how our main characters negotiated shifting illusions of freedom, achieved and thwarted ambitions, realized and unrequited loves, and violent and natural deaths.

Syracuse, September 2023

My one-year anniversary as a full-time writer seems like an appropriate time to share some reflections. I want to get this out before success or failure tarnishes my feelings. I want to keep it pure. What follows are a few things I’ve learned about myself:

1. I am a writer. I’ve found more joy in building worlds and developing characters than in anything I’ve ever done. It’s what “I want to do with my life,” and it’s ok that it took 48 years to figure it out.
2. I am disciplined. I wrote almost every day. Sometimes for thirty minutes and sometimes for five hours. Sometimes I took multi-week breaks (like for a glorious trip to Peru) and sometimes I didn’t skip a day. But most days, I wrote. I logged my time and my word count. Obsessive, maybe, but it kept me honest. Not quite eight-hour days, but sitting at my computer was not always the most effective way to be working on my book. In the recesses of my mind, it was (is) constantly rewriting itself.

A week in my life. Since I was editing at week, you can see the word count decreased.

3. I am imaginative. I would always describe myself as logical and a people person. Not a creative artist. I didn’t play make believe as a child. But over this past year, I’ve allowed my mind to visualize a world separate from my own. I see vivid scenes in my mind’s eyes. The people are real to me. I witness their interactions. And then I try to find the words to describe what I’m seeing. The hardest part, by far, is finding the right words. It’s like when you hear music in your head, but when you try to sing the song, you’re way off key. Wait, does that only happen to me? Anyway, I’ve found that if I smooth over my paragraphs enough times, and use my handy thesaurus, I get there. The words begin the match the visuals. It’s been a revelation.

4. This is just the beginning. There will be many rounds of revisions before my book gets published and there are several other books in my head. There are no guarantees that I’ll find success, but I do not intend to quit.

I hope you’ll continue to root for me. I expect the next phase to be more brutal. Thus far, I’ve owned the process, with some excellent feedback from my readers, but now I’ll be depending on the professionals to get my book from the cloud to shelves. I’m optimistic that I’ll find great collaborators. Cause why not? I’ve gotten this far. So, I’m just going to keep on writing.