Y’all. I’ve been working on this 2016 review for weeks.
But I just haven’t been able to get my act together. Typically, I like to spend the last few days of a year reflecting on all that’s happened. You know, the highs, the lows, how I’ve navigated and God’s grace through it all.
The thing is, 2016 has not been typical.
As 2017 opens, I wanted to share a not-so-brief update on why I’ve been MIA. And ask for a bit of grace as my life drastically changes in a few weeks.
The primary reasons I’ve been out of touch are: a baby, a book and our new little bungalow. Since it’s been a while since we’ve chatted, I’ll just give you a chronological update (and lots of pictures) of the last six months. Continue reading
About this identity thing…
I opened up my email a few weeks ago and my heart skipped a beat. A response. From an editor at one of those big New York City Publishing houses. I’d been waiting 83 loooong days to hear from this editor, she’d already told me I was a good writer…so I was pretty certain all my writing dreams were about to come true. I had it all planned out.
Literary agents would be blowing up my phone trying to represent me. My book would debut as a New York Times Bestseller, I’d buy my darling husband that black Tesla we’d seen in the mall, and then whisk my family away for an all expense paid vacation to Fiji.
And therein lies the problem…I’d placed my hope, trust, and identity as a writer in acceptance from that publisher. Continue reading
So, I didn’t finish my post on how Morris and I met. Forgive me!
I’ve been trying to polish the first three chapters of the novel to perfection, because I’m headed to my first writer’s conference this week–ACFW. For me the next step, to the traditional publishing process, is getting a literary agent. So, I’ll be pitching the novel to a couple agents and hoping that they ask me for proposals.
Initially, I was really nervous about facing rejection. But two things happened. First, I picked up a new freelance writing job that I didn’t even request. Second, I got AWESOME feedback from an author on the first twenty pages. Continue reading
I became an angry black girl in the fourth grade. I hadn’t realized it until my teacher, Mrs. Jefferey-Roebuck told me I needed to change my attitude. I didn’t think I had a bad attitude.
I knew was angry. I was mad because I didn’t live with my biological mother. I was angry because the new boy didn’t like me. I was angry because my hair shrunk when it was wet and all the other girls in class had perms.
But I was totally unaware that anyone else knew I was angry. It turned out, everyone knew I was angry. Because I was brash and abrasive when I dealt with my classmates. Continue reading
I was sitting in Belga Cafe on Capitol Hill talking to a friend about how I really wanted to be a writer.
I was feeling a little dissatisfied with my job as an energy analyst and really felt the pull to get back to writing. (I’d been itchin’ to write ever since Mrs. Butzer told me I was a good writer during my Junior year in high school.)
And my friend, Morris, asked me: Continue reading
The past week was pretty crummy. It started last Friday when I got a check and a letter in the mail. I was happy to receive the check. But not so happy to receive the letter. The letter said something along these lines “Dear Simone: We really like your writing, but we can no longer afford to pay you.”
Just when I was getting comfortable telling people that I’m a writer. A real one. It feels like the rug is getting pulled up from under me.
The second boot dropped when I realized that the magazine I’m writing for is probably not going to pay me for my work. (I know this because I reached out to two of the other writers and we are all in the same boat. And combined the magazine owes us thousands of dollars.)
But more than the loss of money, what I’m really struggling with is the loss of identity. Am I still a writer if no one pays me to write? Continue reading
Image: Piranha Boxing Gear
Earlier this year, I did something super scary. I told a room of 50 strangers about my dream of starting a business. Up until this moment, the dream had been somewhat of a secret.
I had a business plan, I pitched the idea to my husband, and I told a few close friends. But, the thought of telling strangers was terrifying.What if they didn’t like my business idea? What if they laughed? What if they didn’t share my opinion or views? Aghhh! There were just so many things that could go wrong. And, guess what?