Not Another Newsletter!

So, About That Vacay

In my last letter, I told you I was going on my first vacation in thirteen years. Guess what happened right before we had to leave?

I got sick. Like, lying facedown in bed, whimpering for my mama sick. In rare moments of consciousness, I thought about things like trip insurance, the single digit temps outside, and whether it'd be another thirteen years before I took a vacay.

I woke up the next day in that state where you can at least imagine wellness. We got to go (to the Domincan Republic, by the way). And in addition to it being a fabulous time, I learned that vacay is a lens through which to view real life, and especially the writing life.

Sometimes the Road is Long and Bumpy

We rented a car to drive from Santo Domingo to an eco-resort.

The 100 mile trip took over four hours because the roads had potholes measured in depths of feet, not inches. As we crawled along, avoiding donkeys and the edges of cliffs, we wondered if our destination could possibly be worth it.

Look at these pictures! I'll even share the above clip of me sliding into one of the natural rock pools, although it's not exactly flattering. Bathing suits. Oy.

When we got back home, I had a convo with my editor and agent, and we decided that my next book, Twelve Miles from Mercy, will come out in spring 2020. It feels like a long ways away. Will I even be remembered as an author by then? Worries started to drag at my heels like swamp grass.

Then I remembered our drive to Paraiso. The road to my career as an author has been rough—even back in my days of querying (you can read why on Daniella Levy's Rejection Survival Guide). But if it winds up at a place with views like this, drinking fragrant juices, and blown by cool sea breezes…all the potholes, jouncing, and fear will have all been worth it.

Unproductive Time is Crucial

Some of my favorite memories from vacation were the ones where I just sat in the glorious tropical garden with Tim Johnston's new novel beside me, not reading, not swimming in the pool, not even sun-bathing. Just watching a lizard. Back home, I am always either doing something, or thinking about what needs to be done. In his article on work, Maarten van Doorn touches on the topic of how useful downtime is. On vacay it wasn't that I put everything down, it was that there was nothing to pick up. And it was bliss.

As writers, our books benefit from being sent on the same kind of holiday. Some of our best ideas come when we are driving, or in the shower, or basically not thinking about the book. I'd suggest going one step further—taking some utterly unplugged, not task directed time every single day, then seeing the rewards reaped on the page.

Get Trapped in a Cave

Okay, not really trapped, but in my suspense novelist's mind, we could have been.

On our last day, we took a hike. We descended stone steps, darkness increasing, and found ourselves at the bottom in a cave, staring at a pool of pristine sapphire water. Then we went in.

It was one of the most profound experiences I've ever had. The silence so complete, the beauty so unspoiled, the water as clean as water must've been when the earth first sprang forth. As writers, our story comes to life on the page in the same way. From nothing, we create moments of extraordinary something.

It's Not that There Are Winners & Losers, It's Just that Sometimes We Win or Lose

Vacay was one of the winning times for me, and I am so grateful to have had it. And I am also happy to share another kind of winning—
Elizabeth V. who entered last issue's giveaway has won a copy of Robert Crawford's first novel, Tatterdemalion. You will be contacted via email for delivery arrangements.

Congratulations!

Back home now, amidst snow and ice

And also an owl, in the day time, who visited us upon our return. So happy to be with you all again!