Gretchen Anthony's Blog: As the TBR Pile Topples

Tuesday was back-to-school day here. My husband stood at our office window and watched elementary school kids beneath oversized backpacks climb the stairs to their bus like beetles taking a hill. I went shopping for new notebooks and pens.

Understand, our household doesn’t require new school supplies anymore. Especially not me. And I certainly didn’t need to drive across town to buy them. But shopping online, you can’t hold a notebook in your hands to feel its weight, nor can you inhale the smell of fresh paper or listen to the spine crackle as you open it. They may be small stationary aisle tokens, but they represent the vast possibilities of each school year.

What if we all used September as a fresh start?

If you read my July post, you know this summer didn’t go as planned for me. Like the Stones tell us, you can’t always get what you want. But perhaps I did get what I needed these past few months—challenges that compelled me to confront assumptions and find opportunities where I hadn’t seen them before. It’s been a muddle, but one bound to lead somewhere. (Stay tuned for more on that later this fall.)

My point today is that as we step into September, I hope you can see the possibilities in this new “school year,” too. May we all bury our noses deep within the pages of stories that make us think, tune our ears to teachers worth listening to, and put our pencils to work solving for X.

Happy fall, readers. It’s going to be a fantastic year.

The week has been a big one. Monday, I was on TV. Tuesday, I was in despair. Wednesday, I cried. Thursday, I scrolled job sites. Friday, I put on my pants and got back to work.

Life is a roller coaster. Mine, much less so than many others. I’m fortunate to spend my days fulfilling a lifelong dream. And yet, as is likely true of your work, being a writer has no small share of challenges. Namely, the minute-by-minute exercise in fighting the negativity in your head. That the sentence you wrote may suck right now, but you can fix it later. That the book you spent more than a year of your life crafting doesn’t suck, either.

It’s that last challenge that got the best of me this week.

Whether I wish to believe it or not, there’s just no telling how the market will respond to a new book. It can have a fabulous title and a magical cover. It can make readers laugh and cry and want to turn every last page. And it can still walk through the world as quietly as a whisper. All for reasons as plentiful and mystical as a sky full of stars.

The writer in my latest novel, Fern McAllister, is experiencing an existential crisis of her own. She’s frustrated enough by her fledgling career that when the story begins, she hasn’t written a thing in eight years.

“Maybe I’m not a writer, after all.” Fern remembers clearly the night she suggested to Mack that she might be ready to raise the white flag, though their now college-bound daughter was still requesting bedtime stories when the conversation took place. “I know I can write, but should I? Should I devote my life to something that pays me back in nickels?”

Mack responded by radiating the same calm that she’d married him for. “Money and attention aren’t the only worthwhile measures of success.”

“Just ask van Gogh, right?”

“If writing makes you happy, you should keep doing it.”

Therein lay the problem. “But I like things that like me back. Our children may drive me wild from the minute they wake up until the minute we chase them to bed at night. And yet, I know they need me and love me. I know my time with them is of value. I used to be able to rationalize the work of writing the same way—difficult, but worthwhile. Increasingly, though, it feels like a job for which I’m not getting paid.”

Those of you who know me or have heard me talk about the book know that I based much of Fern on my own life. A woman with three happy children. A supportive husband. The knowledge that she is safe and cared for.

We also share a nagging angst. Is it enough to do what I love?

Unlike Fern, I’ve had novels do well. The Book Haters Book Club was translated into Croatian, Hebrew, Italian, Polish, Serbian, and Spanish. My book! From my brain! It’s a certified marvel.

But two years later, the market is unrecognizable compared to 2022. I know because I poured my despair out in emails to my agent and editor and they sent me back the data. They also said it wasn’t my fault. Shifts happen. Genres briefly go in and out of fashion. New terms like romantasy and spicy rom-com dominate the book buyer’s lexicon. Sometimes, they said, it ain’t nothing but timing, lady.

I am earnestly trying to believe my team and their data. I have to. Because if I don’t, I’ll quit this thing I love, just like Fern. And quitting means I’ve lost faith in myself, as well as in the characters I cherish, the ones who honor me by hopping into my head and saying, “Hello. Let’s have some fun together.”

Wednesday, I sent a series of sorrowful emails to author friends with the subject line, “Tell me this writer’s life is worth it. Unless it’s not.” Then I obnoxiously signed it with the closing, “Don’t let this email get you down.” As if I have that much power over other people’s emotions.

To a person, they answered with heartfelt empathy and tales of their own disappointments. They said that success is multifaceted and reminded me that every writer must decide for herself whether the journey continues. I’m relieved to note that each one of them writes on.

Today, as if the Universe was making sure I was listening, I received an unrelated email containing this quote from Bruce Lee:

"Do not pray for an easy life, pray for the strength to endure a difficult one."

Well, isn’t that just the period at the end of the sentence? This week was hard. But it was also a lesson—that I didn’t choose this life; it chose me and, difficult as some days (weeks) are, I can decide to receive my gifts with a gracious heart.

Here’s hoping you are where you’re meant to be, friends. And if you feel you ever need to scream into the universe like I did this week, drop me a note. I’ve been there.

Gretchen Anthony

Been doing a lot of thinking recently…

If I’m going to commit myself to the work of equality and justice in America, it’s going to require sustained efforts in keeping myself educated. Easier said than done. But the work is both necessary and right, and it’s up to all of us to create the nation we want to live in and leave to our children.

To help foster my understanding of where we stand as a country and how we got here, I’ve started a new bookshelf on my Goodreads page titled exactly that: Equality and Justice. If you want to see what I’m reading, check it out. If you have other books to recommend, send them my way.

Gretchen