Refilling the Tank in 2024
June 2024: Revision Reflections
My 2024 so far has been… busy. Mostly busy in a good way. With two books debuting back to back, some might say I’ve had the best possible kind of busyness a writer can have — and I wouldn’t argue with that!
But if there’s one thing I’ve learned this year, it’s that the busyness of book promotion is a beast that consumes time, focus, and motivation like little else. Even when I’m not writing a guest blog post, or doing an interview, or creating a Canva graphic, or scheduling an event, or posting on social media, I’m planning the next guest blog post, or thinking about my answers to the next interviewer’s questions, or imagining the next Canva graphic, or, or, or…
You get the picture.
Not that I’m complaining. I am tremendously grateful for every scrap of attention my books have received. As pretty much any writer can tell you, it’s extraordinarily difficult to get noticed nowadays. Bad reviews are better than no reviews at all; the enemy of your book is not honest criticism but sheer indifference. Even with the committed efforts of an enthusiastic publisher and a talented publicist (both of which I have been blessed with for We Mostly Come Out at Night), it’s been nearly impossible to break through the keening background noise of modern life to snag the awareness of readers. It takes hard work, planning, creativity, and hustle — not to mention lots of luck and the generosity of friends and colleagues offering their own time and energy to help you spread the word.
And that’s not even counting all of the other activity that goes into building a writing career nowadays. Stuff like lectures and bookstore events and emails and Zoom meetings and contracts and networking and novel critiques and retreats and beta reads and workshops and, er, um, writing newsletters…
Again, you get the picture.
What every published writer already knows and will be only too happy to tell you — and yet, what I’ve had to learn for myself the hard way — is that all of this busyness (the commotion of a career) will coalesce into an insatiable black hole if you let it, sucking in more and more of your time and creative energy until you wake up one morning and realize that the black hole itself is all there is, and you’re using every bit of thrust you have in you just to keep from being swallowed whole.
This is where I find myself at the moment, staying just ahead of a swirling, crushing vortex of commitments. But my eye sits warily on the fuel gauge as the tank runs lower and lower.
For me, what’s been especially unnerving about all of this is knowing that the one thing I haven’t found the time or energy to do this year is the very thing that all of this activity is theoretically meant to support—writing. With the exception of a single short story that my friend Corey Farrenkopf solicited for his final issue as fiction editor of the Cape Cod Poetry Review (a story coming out later this year), I haven’t written anything new in six months. That’s not due to a lack of projects needing my attention! My agent is patiently awaiting my MG novel revision. Jennifer is even more patiently awaiting my chapters in the adult thriller we’re co-writing. I have another short story to tackle for an anthology invitation, not to mention my half-finished magnum opus (LOL), a sprawling and messy gay, #metoo, haunted house novel that I’ve been working on for years and that has lately been calling to me in my dreams.
But who has time to spend on any of these projects? Not me! I have too many other things that need doing NOW. Yet, even when I find a few hours or a day in between all the other stuff that I could theoretically devote to writing, lately I’ve found it nearly impossible to tap into the intensive focus that creative work demands. My mind wanders so easily these days. I can hardly muster the concentration necessary to read a book, let alone write one. I find I spend most of my free time (such as it is) doom scrolling online or half-watching reruns of Grand Designs on YouTube. I can’t sit through movies anymore. I can barely watch scripted TV.
All of this is a problem. The ways I used to refill my creative tank no longer seem to work like they once did. When I was younger, losing myself in a good book or movie could juice my creativity for weeks. Now, I have a pile of half-finished novels on my bedside table and a Netflix queue overflowing with unwatched junk.
Little else seems to do the trick either.
I’ve started to wonder if this is just a “me” problem or something much broader. Surely some of it has to do with growing older. I suspect more of it involves the shallowing out effect that social media has on our perceptions of time and ideas. It’s a lot more difficult to think deeply (or for long) about anything in a meme world where we are constantly bombarded by random fragments of information: Here’s a puppy eating an ice cream cone! Here’s a new recipe for a cottage cheese cake! Here’s the latest GOP plan to strip us of our rights and turn America into The Handmaid’s Tale!
While I’m at it, I’m quite certain Donald Trump is to blame, too. If there’s one thing above all else I despise about that wretched man (and all of MAGA, for that matter), it’s for robbing me of the luxury of not living in a constant state of low-key dread about the future. Yet, even spending time outdoors touching grass (literally and metaphorically) doesn’t have quite the same restorative impact it once did, now that the sky is hazy with wildfire smoke and the temperature hovers at increasingly apocalyptic extremes.
What’s a creative person to do to stay creative when it feels like everything in life is conspiring against it?
To be frank, I don’t have any answers. This essay isn’t so much an offer of wisdom as it is a cry in the dark. My calendar is full from now through the fall with teaching, travel, and promotional commitments, until it all comes to a screeching halt with the conclusion of the Rainbow Retreat the Sunday before the Election.
Will I be able to keep my tank from running dry until then?
I sure hope so!
Will I find a fresh reserve of fuel to tackle all the creative projects I’ve sidelined for far too long?
Fingers crossed.
And what happens after November 5th? Will the results of the Election afford me enough peace of mind to get back to work, or will all hell break loose and chaos and misery reign into the foreseeable future?
Your guess is as good as mine…
I bet you didn’t think when you began reading this essay that it would devolve into being about the Election, did you? But here’s the thing: books come and go, but in 2024, what else is there, really?
Sigh.
In community,
Rob
Announcements:
Online Theater Camp for Writers w/ Special Guest, Chris Tebbetts
There’s still plenty of time left to sign up for our very first special quest Zoomie, featuring the amazing Chris Tebbetts!
ONLINE THEATER CAMP FOR WRITERS answers the question: What do acting, directing, and improv have to teach us as writers? Whether you are noodling ideas, have a manuscript in progress, or just want to have some fun looking at your writing in a new way, join Chris for this two-hour interactive workshop. Participants will be invited (but not required) to submit scenes from work in progress, which we’ll “produce” using volunteer actors from the class. Other topics will include improv for writers; creating character from an actor’s perspective; and thinking like a director on the page. Please note that this workshop is introvert- and extrovert-friendly. No performing required!
Wednesday, June 26 2024 from 7:00 to 9:00 pm EDT
Tickets are $30 (plus non-refundable Eventbrite fees), which includes 30-day access to a recording of the event
Click the image below to find out more and register:
Chris Tebbetts is the co-author of the #1 New York Times bestselling MIDDLE SCHOOL series with James Patterson, as well as the bestselling STRANDED series with Jeff Probst from TV’s “Survivor.” Chris is also the author of two YA novels: ME, MYSELF, AND HIM and M OR F? (with Lisa Papademetriou); the bestselling adult thriller 1ST CASE; and a forthcoming audio drama for Audible, also with James Patterson. He came to publishing by way of theater, which was his primary creative outlet from age ten to thirty, including a decade as an NYC-based stage manager, director, choreographer, and producer. Find out more at www.christebbetts.com
Jo & Rob to Present at Teachers Write! on July 31!
We’re excited to announce that Jo and Rob will be participating in this year's Teachers Write — a free online summer writing camp for educators & librarians, hosted by the amazing Kate Messner.
Teachers Write is all about writing in community. It’s about walking the walk and taking risks with our own writing so we can be more empathic teachers when we ask our students to take risks of their own, to be brave enough to put words on paper and maybe even share those words.
Other guest authors this summer include Kekla Magoon, Lauren Tarshis, Eliot Schrefer, Elly Swartz, Saadia Faruqi, Josh Funk, Amy Guglielmo, and more!
On July 31st, Jo and Rob will host a free R(ev)ise and Shine! Zoom workshop just for Teachers Write participants.
Teachers Write 2024 runs from July 8-August 2.
Click the image below to find out more and sign up:
Summer Hiatus
We’ll be taking July and August off from hosting Zoomies and the Writers’ Book Club so that we can focus on making sure that our inaugural R(ev)ise and Shine! Residency is a success.
But rest assured that we’ll be returning with more great online content in the fall, including guest Zoomies featuring the brilliant Nora Shalaway Carpenter and Pat Zietlow Miller, our first picture book-focused book club, and lots more!
Stay tuned…
wow, kudos on summing up all the dread and fury of these times. I can't seem to concentrate either and the dumpster fire keeps calling...
I'm exhausted reading about all of your projects and publicity. Hope you and Werner get some "summer time" together and unplug for a bit to recharge.