Suddenly, I'm an author

It took me a while to get to that declaration.

I was going to write about author scams but that’s depressing. So I will save the saga of my overwhelmed inbox full of AI regurgitations of my novel for another post. Because two HUGE events occurred since my last post:

The launch of my first novel, The Salt and Light Express, at Epworth United Methodist Church in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. That was October 15. People from different phases of my life showed up: journalist, political appointee, planner, Episcopalian, Methodist, student.

To see people lined up holding my book, waiting for me to sign it, was surreal. I sold 58 books that afternoon. I’ve delivered copies to local book stores and set up three book signings so far. The next step is catapulting the book beyond my locale and social media circle with some advertising, podcasts, and free media.

Three days. 10,000 words. After the book launch, I thought I might need a respite so I reserved a cabin at the Highlights Foundation retreat in Boyds Mills, Pennsylvania. It’s in the Poconos, just a few miles from New York state.

I’ve written about this magical place before. I went with a group from the Drexel MFA program in April 2024 and plotted out my second novel. I didn’t do much writing that time, but a fellow student wrote 10,000 words in those few days. That seemed like an unattainable stretch goal at the time. So I set it for myself: could I write 10,000 words in three days?

I knew I could write a thousand words in about two hours. Here, there were no distractions other than gourmet meals and amazing sunrises. (And boxed wine.) Plus, there were all kinds of nooks and crannies where you could park yourself with your laptop for hours. And I did.

Dinner companions included a Vassar philosophy professor finishing up a book on AI, people from across the country who came for a bookbinding workshop, and writers of various genres and accomplishments.

On Saturday night, I wound up with 10,182 words—more than 45,000 total. I had written two huge, pivotal scenes. This second novel is now titled The Next Right Thing. It’s about a group of once close-knit high-school friends who reunite after forty years because their beloved journalism teacher is dying. He is haunted by a memory that he cannot articulate, and they help him solve the mystery. There’s a love story intertwined throughout as the protagonist, selfish and self-absorbed, angers her partner to the breaking point.

When you’re 69, you have a lot of memories and experiences to dust off and throw onto the pages. Johnny Heard, our journalism teacher from MacArthur High School in Irving, Texas, was indeed dying and called his favorite students to his hospice bedside in 2013. I flew to Texas from Baltimore. I did see an assortment of classmates I had not seen in decades, including a best friend.

Before this month, I had a difficult time considering myself an author. Call it Imposter Syndrome. Humility (probably not). A lack of self-confidence. Other events in my life crowding out the writing.

Now I can confidently say: I am an author. No turning back.

The Highlights Foundation in the Poconos