Tomorrow is my one-year book-iversary! On April 5th, 2023, I casually exceeded the daily goal for National Novel Writing Month while telling myself to not get excited, and that it would likely amount to nothing. I then proceeded to write 50,000 words in the next 19 days, and I’ve continued to work on this project consistently and obsessively ever since.
I’m interested in the way we are things, and the way we are not things, and the way what we are changes while staying exactly the same. In 2022 and early 2023 I was pretty seriously pursuing painting, and landscape painting, and trying to figure out what my art business might look like after a shift to traditional media. And if you go back a few years in this blog, you’ll find entries written by someone whose self-worth was measured by how many miles she ran that week. I can look back ten—heck, even twenty, or twenty-five—years and see the full writing journey, hundreds of thousands of words, so many manuscripts and ideas that I’ve learned from and left behind. I’ve never not come back to it. But I also know there were entire years, or longer, when I barely wrote anything. And I’m thinking about this now because I haven’t done a painting in a while, and every time I think my body might let me be a runner again one of my injuries will flare up, or something else will go wrong. And I’m wondering if I should try for 50,000+ words again this month since I did it last year, but I’m also working on finalizing some post-workshop revisions, and hoping to get my next round of query letters out ASAP, and maybe that’s too many things! And when am I going to paint??
I don’t have answers. I never do—I mean, except that capitalism doesn’t leave us enough time for our own stuff if we wanna, like, pay rent and eat and go to the doctor occasionally, but there’s nothing I can do about that. I will say that I really enjoyed the Futurescapes Spring Workshop, and I think that the tweaks I am making to the first two chapters based on feedback are good edits. And I’m just going to keep trying. Happy Solar Eclipse!
A view of the sun rising above the clouds on a recent flight out of Jacksonville Florida on my way home to Maine.
I’ve now submitted seven queries total, and I’ve already received three form letter rejections. It has been amazing and unexpected to hear back so quickly! But I’d also, like, hyped myself up for weeks of endless waiting, you know? I only had all seven agents in the “submitted” column for four days!!!!
Current query tracker (names redacted)
Last week, I was accepted to the online Futurescapes Spring Workshop in March. I’ll be workshopping my query letter, my synopsis, and the the first 3,500 words of my novel with a faculty of three literary agents and a small cohort of six fellow students—and my faculty group leader is an agent who represents some of my very favorite books. She has been at the top of my agent list since I started making the list!
Timing-wise, I suppose it would have been ideal to workshop my stuff before submitting to the first round of agents (including my faculty lead, haha), but it WILL be nicely timed for my second round of submissions. And no regrets—it was important to me for personal/existential dread reasons to start querying before my 35th birthday. The workshop does guarantee that I’ll receive some personalized feedback from one of the agents I’ve queried, and this is such a win in itself even if the response to my query is no.
Otherwise, I am trying to slow down. I am trying to stop obsessively rereading my 3,500 word excerpt and panicking about whether the people in my workshop will like it. I am trying to accept that there isn’t any work to do right now on any of my submission materials. I am trying to take a break. I am wondering if anyone actually feels well-rested when they wake up in the morning. I am hoping to get back into painting. I am thinking about what to write next, and I am asking strategy questions I’ve never had to ask before. For instance: Should I start writing my half-baked sequel idea even though I’m not sure it will turn into anything? Wouldn’t it be smarter to start something new, so I’ll have something to query next year if this one doesn’t work out? And…am I a romance writer now? What if I don’t have another SFF romance in me? What if, for me, last year’s struck-by-lightning writing experience is the best it’s ever going to get?
So, nothing is new. Everything is terrifying, and you gotta do it anyway. I do think it’s important to celebrate the milestones when you hit them. We got lo mein and crab rangoons from China Taste in Yarmouth on the day I submitted to the 7th agent, which has become a ritual—we got the same lo mein when I finished the first draft, and when I finished revisions and let people read it for the first time. I can’t seem to find a good closing line for this blog post, because, like, everything feels like it’s still in process? But, you know, I’m processing. I’m waiting. I’m resting. I’m looking ahead. I’m doing my best.
Yesterday I sent my first three queries to literary agents. Eep! While I haven’t entirely quelled the fantasy that I’ll get signed by one of my dream agents immediately, I do think I have realistic expectations about how long this is going to take and how many rejections I’m likely to receive. And three is just a start—general wisdom is to send about 5 to 8 queries at a time. So I’ll send more this week, and with a better estimate of the time involved now that I know I will spend an hour+ before sending each submission re-reading my materials in terror that I have somehow spelled the agent’s name wrong, spelled my own name wrong, or used the wrong draft. 😂
I hired a total of three editors to look at my query letter—one full submission package edit from an editing agency, and two query-letter edits from Fiverr. I didn’t agree with every suggestion, but I took something from every edit that improved the letter. There are twelve query letter drafts in my folder, and that doesn’t even include all the work I did before I started saving each draft as a separate document! One of the Fiverr packages included two passes, and when the editor read the final and said, “I think this is ready to send out,” I decided to believe her. I could spend literally forever making tweaks and wording adjustments, but at some point you just have to give it a go. Right? And this was my Big Goal. “Querying agents” was the destination for ten months of obsessive work and focus, and I did it. I know this is just the first step in a long process, and gosh I’ve had some help along the way, but I’m proud that I made it this far.
This is a photo of the ✨fun✨ agent tracker that now lives on a wall in my living room (names redacted). I’m hoping that the galaxy stickies and butterfly pushpins will remind me to celebrate the entire journey, rejections and all.
2023 was a banner year for me. I still can’t believe that I wrote an entire novel in four months! And that I’ve stuck with it through revisions, feedback, and endless query/synopsis drafts. I am wildly grateful to the alchemy of inspiration, obsession, and terror that has gotten me this far.
Last week, I started listening to the podcast The Shit No One Tells You About Writing. I’ve found the query/first pages critiques at the beginning of each episode to be very educational, and it is so interesting to hear about the guest authors’ various journeys to publication. Yesterday I listened to the 11/9/23 episode, “Encouragement from NYT Bestselling Author, Jean Kwok,” and I found the interview with Kwok incredibly inspiring. She spoke about her debut novel’s initial rejection and eventual success, and she also spoke about fear, and doing the scary things anyway. This resonated—I’ve noticed that when I write about writing I am almost always writing about fear. She also spoke about her determination following the first rejection to continue submitting her manuscript, and collecting rejections, for as long as it takes. Every episode of the podcast closes with the host, Bianca Marais, saying, “Keep at it. Remember, it just takes one ‘Yes.’”
I’m dedicating the first few weeks of January to more novel revisions and query/synopsis edits, and I am deadly determined to submit my novel to an initial round of literary agents before my 35th birthday in February. My New Year’s Intention is to actively query agents on a rolling basis for the entire calendar year of 2024. And obviously I would hope to reassess and keep trying into 2025 and beyond, with this book and with future projects, for as long it takes. But “as long as it takes” is an ethereal measure of time, while “a year” is solid, definite, and a good place to start. And if I plan for a year, then those first few rejections, or non-responses, are all part of the plan. Right? At the very least, I am determined to stop telling myself “No” by not even asking for a “Yes.”
Once again I’ve drafted multiple blog posts about writing that I haven’t posted because—well, because I’m doing the actual work, and I don’t want to jinx it by saying too much or by setting goals here that I can’t promise I’ll keep. And I’ve got my personal journal for all the endless doubts and affirmations that are part of sustaining belief in a project (and myself) over the long-term. (A note: I do think daily long-hand journaling has been an important part of my workflow. Even if you’re not saying anything new, repeating how badly you want something, day after day, keeps it fresh in your mind.)
I’ve finished a second round of revisions on my book, and I’m trying to stay out of the manuscript for a month while a few more readers take a look at it. I think I did a good job? I invigorated the sedentary language of the first two chapters, wrote new scenes to weave an antagonist more securely into the narrative, accidentally (and I’m low-key furious about this) inserted a new background character who might be the main character in a sequel, and confronted all of the sentences that felt clunky or cringey. I’m sure I’ll wince at more sentences the next time through, and I know there will be more, even major, edits in the future, but I think I did my best?
I started this month with plans to attempt NaNoWriMo, but I also promised myself that I wouldn’t finish it just for the sake of finishing if the story wasn’t coming together. And boy did that story NOT come together! At almost 9,000 words the characters weren’t speaking to me yet, and I hadn’t found a plot. It has some elements I love, but it just wasn’t happening, not for me, not right now. I also realized that the aforementioned revisions were not coming as quickly as I’d hoped, and I needed to prioritize the book I’d already written. Still, failing NaNoWriMo has not helped with my fear that I will never again be as inspired by a story as I was by this story, the story for my existing book, earlier this year. It wasn’t easy—I’ve put in so many hours—but I didn’t need to struggle for the story. I just showed up. But it’s also given me so much more confidence in my ability to show up, which can only be a good thing for the next one.
For now, I plan to spend a few weeks wrestling with a synopsis and other submission materials. The synopsis, so far, has absolutely kicked my ass. I know what my book is about, but summarizing in 500 or so words with enough—but not too much—detail, while also conveying a sense of tone, feels like the most difficult writing assignment I’ve ever had. Wish me luck!
I had this idea to get back to a spot where I’m blogging more regularly, and I’ve actually drafted a couple of posts about my writing process and what’s actually worked for me, but I haven’t posted them because I’m just SO TIRED of writing about writing. As electrifying as a wordcount tracker is for me when I’m in the zone with a project, I am finding my own words about my own process incredibly boring right now. At the end of the day you’re either writing or you’re not, you know? You either did the thing or you didn’t. You either finish your book or you don’t.
I don’t actually believe anything is that absolute, but I have a headache and I am impatient with my own prevaricating—and my impatience is running up against the lack of a clear step forward for the novel that has been commandeering every extra iota of brain space since the idea first hit me over the head back in April. Because from here on out, there isn’t a right answer, is there? Like, there’s no one out there to tell you which edits and changes are correct. No one’s going to give you an A and say, “Good job, you’re ready to start querying agents!” So…how do you know? Can you trust your own assessment? If people are telling you it’s already really good, do you believe them? How much time do you spend trying to make it even better? How do you know if it shines?
I’m still collecting some feedback before diving into manuscript edits, so I’ve been trying to get a head-start on query letters. I’m hoping to hire some professional advice for my submission materials and would like them to be as polished as possible before then, and at this point I’m not expecting to make any major plot changes. And that’s wild, right? Like, borderline delusional, to feel so confident about a first-ish draft that I’m not expecting any major plot changes??? But query letters, man. Holy heck. The whole time I was writing this book, I was like, “This is the most marketable book I’ve ever written! It’s going to fit right into this queer sci-fi/fantasy niche, right next to Everina Maxwell and Freya Marske and Rainbow Rowell!” But actually writing that sales pitch, actually distilling four months of your life (200 single-spaced pages, 110,000 words) into a 2 – 3 paragraph summary—it’s grueling. It’s exhausting. It’s impossible. You’re endlessly twisting and polishing and rearranging, trying to hone and reshape the sentences so that you can see through them to the gold beneath, with no way to know if you’ve gotten it right, or if what’s beneath is even really made of gold.
The view from Wolfe’s Neck Campground in Freeport ME after last Saturday’s hurricane.
It was bedtime on April 4th, 2023. I closed the book I was reading, placed it on my nightstand, and turned off the light. I’ve been reading a lot of queer romance lately, mostly in the sci-fi/fantasy genre, and as I started drifting I asked myself: if I wrote a genre romance following the basic formula of my favorite books, what book would I write? The rough story elements appeared immediately: modern earth, an alien invasion, a gremlin of a main character who can’t believe he still has to go to work during the slow-roll apocalypse. I wondered who the other guy would be, and then it was so obvious: the other guy was an alien.
I started writing the next day and plugged my progress into a NaNoWriMo-style word-count tracking spreadsheet. A week later I had over 20,000 words. 104 days later I had a finished first draft of 112,000 words.
I don’t know what to say except that sometimes the universe, like, throws you a bone? This book just started happening to me, and it didn’t stop. I spent hours writing frantically just trying to get all my thoughts down before I lost them. I could barely keep up. And I eventually had to slow the pace—there’s a reason NaNoWriMo is only once a year—but I kept going. Even at 300 words a day. I continued writing daily until I finished that first rough draft. After a day off to celebrate, I set up a different type of tracking spreadsheet and jumped straight into editing mode. Another month later I had a real, complete first draft that I liked enough to share with a select few other humans.
A huge motivating factor in all of this was the absolute terror of leaving another project unfinished. I’m so proud, but I’m still afraid, because I won’t really be done until I finish the next draft, or two, or however many it takes, and hone my submission materials, and send my first query letters to literary agents. And even that is only the beginning of a long, nerve-wracking process of queries and rejections and revisions that has absolutely zero guarantee of success. Still—I like this book, and I want to try.
Hey this is just a quick post to bring this blog up to the present day! A WHOLE BUNCH OF THINGS happened since my last post in 2019, and I don’t have time to write about any of them right now. I launched Salt Song Runporium, an art business focused on running apparel, at the tail end of 2019. I’m now painting in gouache and oils and getting back into art in a major way, and I want to sell prints, cards, and originals. I’m still figuring out the branding and my ultimate direction, but I wanted this domain name to point directly to my artist shop. So here we are! The current shop iteration won’t be my final form, but here’s the link for now: https://grace-makley-studio.square.site/
EDIT 1.28.24 The shop linked above is no longer active. New branding and new shop coming soon!
It’s November! While I haven’t been writing a novel, I HAVE been working very hard on a creative project. Possibly harder than I’ve ever worked on any creative project. I’m so excited to share it with everyone—but it’s not quite ready yet. It IS, however, very real and in a far-too-late-to-turn-back-now stage of production. I’ll be making an announcement here and on social media during the first or second week of December, so STAY TUNED.
I’m committed to keeping the project details a secret, but I wanted to tell you how I got here. On November 1st I read Anne Lamott’s pep talk for National Novel Writing Month, and I was really struck by the following quote:
“…You start now, as is.
‘As is’ is the portal to creation, to new life. ‘As soon as’ is a form of delusion and therefore soul death.”
Anne Lamott
The first Punky (8.28.19)
A few days before reading this I was sitting at my temp job, where I had a lot of time between tasks, and I decided to start drawing, just to draw. I drew a little rectangle and turned it into a dragon. I gave him some spots, and named him Punky. Then I drew a slightly more detailed dragon, trying to just draw and not get caught up in perfection, and I liked that one so much that I posted it on social media—my first art post in a long time. That same day it occurred to me to do some research, and I learned about a new process that completely changed the way I was thinking about a big project. The next day, I drew another version of Punky, and then I started designing my project and thought up a way to scale it down for December release. By the time I read Anne Lamott’s pep-talk, I had sketches and concept art, a thorough plan, quotes from multiple production companies, and a drawing of Punky for every single day of work. I shared Ann Lamott’s talk on Facebook. I was starting “as is,” and it was working. I titled Punky the As-Is Dragon, because that’s the whole point of him; you can’t be worried whether you’re drawing him right because he’s just a rectangle and there isn’t a wrong way to do it. He allows you to start where you are, and by the time you’ve drawn him you’re warmed up, you’re thinking about lines and color, and you’re ready to get to work.
Dragon Sketch (10/29/19)
As I continued to work and my big project began to feel increasingly real, I wondered: “Is this really all it takes to start making exciting art? Do I just have to decide to start where I’m at? And if that’s all it takes, why has it felt like I’m beating my head against a wall every time I’ve tried to make art for the last several years? Why couldn’t I do this earlier?” And that’s when I spotted the flaw in the “as is” philosophy. You first have to create the conditions that turn your “as is” into a place where your work can thrive.
Punky (10/29/19)
A year ago, I was using a 6-year old laptop with a broken trackpad and about 20 minutes of battery life that could barely run photoshop. My “new” drawing tablet was broken, but I could sometimes get the ten-year-old drawing tablet to work if I jiggled the cord just right. So in February this year I invested in a 12.9” Third Generation iPad Pro and an Apple Pencil: the best of the best of Apple’s drawing-capable products. I’m still paying it off. I was buying this at a time when money was very tight (just like now LOL), and I wondered: can I justify buying professional-level tools when I haven’t made any professional-level art in a long time? But if I hadn’t made that investment, I couldn’t have made any of the art I made this November.
Punky (10/31/19)
Once I had the iPad, I had to learn how to work in a whole language. It was my first touch-screen, and it doesn’t support Photoshop, which I’d been working in for more than a decade (and even if it did, other, cheaper programs are catching up and surpassing Photoshop for drawing). Everything I did in Procreate (the drawing program I’m using now) and on the iPad in general was so frustrating. Even very simple things would leave me stymied; I alway knew there was a way to do what I wanted to do, but I didn’t know how to do it. And every time I turned to Google for help with very basic tasks, I got a little more comfortable, and a little closer to the workflow I have now. Over the summer I used my iPad to design a shirt for my hashing club, which forced me to watch a lot of tutorials and discover some ways I didn’t want to work. In September I signed up for a free “Getting Started with Procreate” class at my local Apple store. I figured that, worst-case scenario, the class would give me some time to sketch. But it turned out the class was just me and the instructor, and I was able to spend the hour asking him every question I had about the program, rapid-fire. He even helped me with some basic iPad file management. I don’t think I’ve ever learned so many directly applicable things in such a short span of time. And thanks to that class, as well as those frustrating months I spent finding answers, when I started working on my big project I was able to just USE Procreate without being constantly frustrated that it isn’t Photoshop. I think I even like it better!
PorME Shirt 2019
Punky (11/4/19)
In addition to the technical aspects, it’s not a coincidence that my big project happened while I was working a low-stress temp job that allowed me time to draw on the clock. It’s not a coincidence that I didn’t get started on the project until I had the peace of mind of a permanent position lined up for after the temp assignment ended. It’s also not a coincidence that I was able to pour so much time and energy into this project during a time when I’m unable to run due to plantar fasciitis. Which might make you think that I’d make more art if I ran a little less—but I absolutely wouldn’t be making the art I’m making now if I hadn’t spent all that time running. And I wouldn’t have been able to make this project happen in such a short space of time if I hadn’t been sitting on the overall idea for more than a year. Most of the concept was ready to go. So even when it felt like I wasn’t making any progress, I was actually on my way, and putting all the pieces together. This November, when I started “as is,” I started on the strong foundation I’d already built—and in just a few weeks I was able to complete some ambitious work that I can’t wait to show you.
Punky (11/13/19)
I also worked really hard. I’ve put so much time into this. And I couldn’t have done it without help; the endless encouragement of my roommate at every stage of the process, the monetary AND moral support of two dear friends, the “That’s a great idea, you should do it,” of my family when I told them about it. And drawing Punky as a ritual really did help me to start “as is.” He helped me find a way back into my work every day, and I have 18 drawings of Punky for 18 days in a row of drawing. You have to start “as is,” every day, because how else will you start anything? But when you’re trying, and failing, and it feels like you’re not getting anywhere, maybe the work you’re doing now is building a better as-is for tomorrow.
Happy October! A lot of things have changed since my last post, but one thing hasn’t: my heel still hurts. A lot. I’m here to tell you that Plantar Fasciitis is an absolute nightmare.
I got plantar fasciitis in my right foot during the last month of training for Pineland Farms 50K, which you may recall was in May. Five months ago. I ran all 32 miles of that race with plantar fasciitis, and the heel pain mostly faded into the background of the day’s many pains and victories. At a pub run three days after that race I ran my fastest ever 5k according to Strava, which was a speed achievement, yeah, but more importantly a recovery achievement to be able to run so strong so soon after my longest distance yet. In June I ran the Shipyard Old Port Half Marathon in 1:58:59, fulfilling my goal of running a sub two-hour half marathon. For me, a person who clearly remembers a time when hitting a 10:30 mile during a short run was the absolute very best I could do, maintaining below an average of 9:10 minutes per mile FOR 13.1 MILES was a giant victory. I did it with plantar fasciitis. At work the Monday and Tuesday following the race day, my heel hurt like hell, and I decided it was finally time to try giving it a rest.
I’m still #*@$ing resting.
I’m not going to go into all the ups and downs of treatment, cortisone shots, stretches, miracle inserts, etc, etc, etc. Many people have struggled with plantar fasciitis, and everyone has different things that worked for them. On good days, I’m taking everyone’s advice and trying everything. On bad days, I’m feeling too overwhelmed and demotivated to even do 30 seconds of stretching. With running out of the equation, it seemed pretty clear that standing all day in a food service job was actively contributing to my heel pain. So I put in my notice, and a few weeks ago I stopped working at the donut shop. I’ve now returned to office work, starting in a temporary position. A week or so in, my foot still hurts. But I’m trying to make the best decisions I can, and I’m trying to keep my spirits up. Which I keep saying, over and over. The forced deadline helped me make a necessary and exciting career change. I’m going to the gym as often as I can. I’m spending more time reading, and writing, and working on myself. And I am so angry that I’m not able to run.
Running is exercise, but it’s also tied to my identity, my social life, my goal-setting, and my mental health. Without it I am struggling. Seasonal depression is hitting hard because I deal with winter by running in it. Running is something that quiets all those voices that are constantly wondering if I did enough today, if I lived life to the fullest, if I worked hard enough, if I made the right choices and didn’t miss out on anything amazing. When I spend time running outdoors I don’t regret it. Never. Not once.
I HAVE been doing fun exercise things! Here’s a photo from an outdoor workout with friends in September.
People ask if I can just switch to a lower-impact exercise for a few months. Yes, I can, but it doesn’t replace running and it doesn’t make me any less sad that I’m missing out on so many group running adventures and solo runs on beautiful fall and summer days. I can still go to the social events around the runs, and I do, but without all the running endorphins it’s not quite the same. I am working my way toward doing more low-impact exercises to replace the running endorphins, but I haven’t spent years building shortcuts in my brain that make it easier to go swimming or biking. There are more mental blocks between the thought and the action: What if all the lanes are full at the pool? Where do I even buy chain grease? Where are my goggles? Biking could at least get me outside, which might help a lot, but it still isn’t running and it’s just. Not. The. Same.
I know that I am very lucky to have so many great things in my life, and I know I will get back to running eventually. Thanks for your patience if I seem a little grumpy in the meantime.
Grace Makley 