What If I’m Just Not That Person?
When “Fake it ‘til you make it” doesn’t work
Hello!
This is the kind of Note where where I knew exactly what I wanted to say, if not exactly how I would say it, but have had the hardest time finding the time and space to sit down and write it. When I finally got all the i’s dotted and the t’s crossed and opened my computer to write to you, the website was down. Of course.
It’s back up now, and here we are. Last week, I said I’d tell you why “a day late” was a funny way to end the newsletter. That’s because I pitched a column to The Writing Cooperative about all the things about writing and self-publishing I earned a day late and a dollar short, and I’m going to start publishing it in February. I’ll let you know when the first installment comes out. I definitely needed another item on each week’s to-do list, so I’m glad the editors liked my idea!
In all seriousness, though, I think it will help me and others, and I can’t wait to get started. Eventually it will be a little book for writers who plan to self-publish. Or for writers like me who never planned to but ended up doing it anyway.
Bestseller Mode
If you wouldn’t mind indulging me for a moment, I’ll be starting off the next several Notes with just a few words about how you can help me launch When We Were Mothers up to the stars. This first one is easy: Mark your calendar for January 17. That’s the day that When We Were Mothers hits online retailers. On or about that day, I’ll be letting you know that the book is, at long last, ready for your bookshelf!
What if I’m Just Not That Person?
I’ve always had stick-straight hair. When I was a kid, any attempt with a curling iron would be met with limp disappointment, and I stopped trying for decades. I always wished I had another kind of hair—don’t we all?—but it never materialized.
Until, of course, after I had children. Then, one kid after another, my hair suddenly took on a mind of its own. I had it cut short for a long time, which is maybe why I didn’t notice it. But, the longer it gets, the more I realize that my hair is no longer stick-straight.
Problem is, it’s not quite curly either. I look at friends with curly hair and wonder what products they use to make their curls stand out and define themselves, and I buy products that promise to do that for my hair. But it never turns out the way I expect it to. Recently, I took a quiz to help me choose some professional hair care products. I selected the kind of curls my hair—which now falls to my mid-back—has developed, and they recommended products, which I eagerly bought.
But, despite following all their tips and tricks and recommendations, I am finding my hair just doesn’t look like I expect it to. My friends say it looks good, which maybe it does. But it doesn’t look like me. And I’m starting to wonder if maybe I’m just not a person who is supposed to have curly hair. I’ve been fine with that for most of my 40 years. I guess I can be OK with it again.
Of course, as I’m thinking about all this, I’m also thinking about the impending publication of my first novel, which I am excessively nervous about.
The prevailing wisdom in a lot of arenas is that to sell books you need to have a platform (i.e. a social media presence). If you’ve been here for a while, you’ll recognize this idea. Something I’ve struggled with, for as long as I’ve been an author is that, while I appreciate the connection provided by social media channels, I am pretty utilitarian in the way I use them.
I’ve tried spending a bunch of time on Facebook or Instagram or TikTok or Twitter, and I just can’t sustain it. When I see something pretty out in the world, my first thought is not to put it on Instagram. When I have a funny thought, my first thought is not to put it on Twitter. I don’t know, maybe it should be. But it’s just not what feels natural to me.
Is it possible, then, that just like I am not a super curly person, I’m also not a huge social media person, and it’s OK?
Hope so, because I don’t know how else to be.
What’s Exciting Me?
I’ve gotten three editorial reviews in the last week, including the one from my favorite author that I was terrified of getting. Do you know what she said? Here it is:
A novel as shocking and vital as the flow of blood after a delivery. The world needs this book, and more like it. It's a torch in the dark while a better world struggles to be born.
Meg Elison, author of The Book of the Unnamed Midwife.
Like, what?! That says so much in so few words. And it’s going smack in the editorial reviews section of my sales pages. I also took that second sentence and put it right on the book’s cover.
Another review said:
When We Were Mothers offers an original take on the hot-button issue of reproductive rights, and Kadilak delivers a nuanced view of the dilemmas her characters face. The story will likely provoke spirited, perhaps unsettling discussions.
Not all parts of these reviews were positive, which of course gives me a bit of a gut punch, but this paragraph describes exactly what I was trying to do with the book. So I call it a win!
What’s Entertaining Me?
Season 2 of The Wire. It’s entirely different from Season 1, but I don’t hate it. I hear Season 3 is where it really picks up.
What I haven’t watched yet is White Lotus. I hear it’s amazing, though, and plan to watch soon.
And I did end up watching the Walking Dead finale. It gutted me and I sobbed for at least 50% of the show. You can’t show me moms with toddlers in circumstances like that without tearing out my heart and crushing it under a car tire.
What’s Enlightening Me?
After last week’s rumination on friendship and relationships, a friend reached out to me. We had just reconnected after probably 10 years of very little communication, and it was like no time had ever passed. We’re both married now, with a handful of kids between us, and we still have a lot of the same interests. “Isn’t it nice,” he said, “that some relationships can be put into cryogenic stasis for years, then just picked right back up?” His comment reminded me that, while I have lamented the growing apart that many relationships tend to do—especially when I seem to care more about maintaining the relationship than the other person does—many of my friendships are like this. Frozen in time, ready to be picked up when the time is right.
I’ll see you next week. Take care,
