If you’re friends with me on Facebook, you’ve perhaps already heard some of my unbelievable story.
But I wanted to give you a bit of background, as well as document for myself this weird, weird coincidence. I have another wild story about being sued and landing on 20/20 which I also had to document because every time I told it, I thought, “That’s crazy! Must have been a dream.”
At any rate, in the last few months, I kind of lost my writing mojo. Sales on BANANA BAMBOOZLE and MARSHMALLOW MAYHEM had tanked and I couldn’t get any new reviews (C’mon! Three reviews? Not cool.), I was struggling with the writing of my new manuscript, but why bother because sales are bad, my marketing isn’t working, why bother to market, who has time to market because I’m trying to write this ridiculously bad book, I suck, what am I thinking, I should get a real job, or maybe just sit on the couch all day and drink.
You may have heard this conversation in your own head once or twice.
Around this time, I was lucky to get the fantastic opportunity to be on the ground floor of starting a new Sisters in Crime chapter here in Colorado. So I stepped away from the half-finished manuscript completely and did other things instead.
I dove into my new Programming duties for SinC-CO.
I shopped for my mother-of-the-bride dress. And watched some football.
I gave myself a pedicure and flossed my teeth.
I got my Lazy Squirrel Purses store on Etsy open for business. (And made my first sale! Squee!)
Then a month or so ago, I picked up that half-finished manuscript and read it. And it wasn’t completely horrible. My eyes didn’t even bleed. So I started working on it again, and actually began to have some fun.
But as any of you creative types know, once you stare into the abyss of crushing self-doubt like that, you always kind of see it out of the corner of your eye. One false step and you’re whooshed right back in.
Fast forward to yesterday. At about noon, I typed THE END on the first draft of the new manuscript. Yippee!
After a bit of celebratory facebooking and back patting, I went back to my to-do list, one item of which was to sign up for Bouchercon 2016. I got that all squared away, then called the hotel for reservations.
I was on the phone with the Marriott in New Orleans or wherever the reservation place was. Tessa, my lovely representative, was having all kinds of glitchy computer problems so I was on the phone for awhile. We had ample opportunity to chat. She asked what Bouchercon was and I told her it was for readers and writers of mysteries and thrillers and such.
She said, “I love mysteries. I have a lot of favorites. I read something by … what was her name … I’m pretty sure it was Clark, like you. Banana something.”
Heart stopping pause on my end. “Bamboozle?”
“Yes! I loved it. And there’s a Marshmallow one coming out soon. I can’t wait to read it.”
“Um, it’s already out. I wrote both of those.”
We both fan-squealed, although technically, I might have shrieked.
WHAT. ARE. THE. ODDS???
The moral of the story, Best Beloved, is that we don’t have any idea who we touch — or when, or how, or even why — with our writing. I don’t quite understand the machinations, but yesterday, the Universe decided to let me have a peek behind that curtain.
Tomorrow it might be your turn, so never, ever quit. And always, always stay at the Marriott.