#136: From newsletter pro to book-writing beginner.
My passion project has entered its 'torture chamber' era.
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"Wait, but you are SUE DEAGLE!"
It was Day 10 at my kitchen table. Books were everywhere, sticky notes were breeding like rabbits, chargers were staging their daily escape from the outlets, the couch pillow I used to support my finicky lower back had come to resemble a smooshed bagel. My "command center", as the kids had dubbed it, was making me feel less in control, more out of my mind.
That’s when Kendall found me slumped over my laptop.
"Mom, why are you so mopey? You got this!"
Book revisions, that’s why. The thing that was supposed to be my passion project, my victory lap, my pain-into-purpose magnum opus after leaving corporate America had turned into my hell.
Apparently knowing how to write newsletters doesn't automatically mean you’ll know how to write books. Who knew? Probably everyone. Except me.
It's been 136 weeks since I started The Luminist. But this last week felt exactly like those early days when I'd spend 20 hours crafting a post, hand it to Leona, and she'd gently explain that... it just wasn't working. I had dared to dream those days were behind me.
How cute.
A book, it turns out, has a few more requirements than a blog post. With Do Loss, I’m trying to fit the vibe of the Do Book Company publishing house. It’s a little story, a little how-to — structures I know and love — but all that needs to pack neatly into a framework, while also interspersed with exercises that drive the points home. Sections need to link, flow, amplify, and, oh, that pesky detail, not repeat what’s already been said ten times. There’s no space for baby pictures or travel selfies or cheeky GIFs to lighten the mood. I keep writing like I'm delivering quarterly projections when what I need is my talking-to-a-friend-over-coffee voice. I can’t just sit down, follow my curiosity, and bang out a chapter like I do a TL post.
So once again, I find myself a beginner. I’ve written about this borderline horrifying experience before (here and here), but honestly, I find beginner-hood so frustrating, I need to write about it again. (Maybe it’s for you, maybe it’s for me. Either way, it’s happening.)
I think of myself as someone pretty well-versed in struggle. But the struggle of loss and the struggle of being a total newbie are two completely different things.
With loss, we all know it's going to suck. It’s arguably the defining characteristic of loss. But with new pursuits, I personally expect them to be challenging, yes, but also fulfilling, exciting, expanding. But then I got body-slammed by my own ignorance into a spiral of “Is this any good? How am I supposed to make it better? Ugh, I’m so lost. What am I even doing…”
But this I do know: the challenges in life are far more rewarding than the victory laps.
If nothing else, they provide a dark background against which the gold in our life can glitter and shine. And generally, they provide much more.
This week has given me a chance to revel in the support of those who love me. Every time I share my feeeeeeelings, I am beyond supported. It’s humbling in that way that makes one wonder, how did I get this lucky, to have these humans in my life?
Karl didn’t try to fix, he just offered a glimpse of the future I’m working for: “Someday you’ll be on the Today Show talking about this stuff.”
Kavon listened to me vent then turned my tirade into a universal truth, “Even the best go through this process.”
Alice didn’t miss a beat before offering “I see you, I feel you” and assurance we can make it through.
Connor played the hits: “You got this, ma!”
Kendall went straight for the heart. There’s nothing like a “but you are SUE DEAGLE” to remind you where you’ve been, what you’ve overcome, and what you are capable of. Here. Now. Always.
I’ve also realized how much I love writing The Luminist. Not too long ago, writing it felt like trying to ride a unicycle, but now it’s where I easily drop into my rhythm and flow. Compared to Do Loss, it feels like freedom (whatever topic I choose), space (no word counts), companionship (collaborating with Leona), and play (the silliest gifs). This book will come to an end, and it will turn out great. But TL is my ride-or-die.
Finally, this week has brought all my coping mechanisms back to the surface. ‘Oh right, this is my bread and butter.’ These are the moments when I get to practice what I preach: meeting the messiness of life and make something beautiful out of it. The cover of Do Loss is a gritty, chaotic rainbow — just like me. It’s unexpected and a bit all over the place, but it’s vibrant and sure as hell making it to the other side.
The day after Kendall's reminder, I abandoned my crumbling command center. Rather than stare at my laptop for another useless hour, I went swimming.
But not my usual serious laps. Instead, I just played. I leaped off the side and plunged to the twelve-foot pool bottom. I swam on my back five feet below, watching my bubbles break the surface. I did my best dolphin impression, while the real swimmers counted their laps in the adjacent lanes.
I was 56 years old acting like a kid at summer camp.
Zero shame.
That's when I remembered: I’m still SUE DEAGLE even when I’m struggling.
In fact, that’s what forms me, shapes me, makes me more me than anything else. That ride, on that gritty rainbow, to the other side.
Soaked but finally smiling,
Love how you highlight the difference between writing for The Luminist vs Do Loss. The idea that the writing process can change so much, depending on what you're writing and who you're writing for (even though it's still writing) is so interesting!
Thank you Hannah!