At the end of every year I look back at this blog to see what happened to me—what I made happen, and what I had no idea was even coming. I tend to forget things, and confuse time and reorder events in my memory, and often the novels I’m writing seem more real than the life I’m existing in, so having a blog helps to remind me that I did do things. Things did happen. There were twelve months that just went by and, after this year especially, I’ve been changed as a person.
I ended 2010 having worked very hard to complete the very last of my revisions for my debut YA novel Imaginary Girls.
Here’s what happens next in 2011…
My book comes out and I interview a real girl behind Imaginary Girls.
I crawl out of my cave into the sun for the big SCBWI summer conference.
I (finally) finish my first draft.
I tell you what scares me. (And ask others to tell you, too.)
I tell you what inspires me. (And ask others to tell you, too.)
I revise, and I revise, and I revise 17 & Gone. (And I get the above fortune at a fancy dinner.)
There’s so much more that happened beyond the public sphere of this blog—and that’s one important lesson I learned in 2011: I can’t share everything with the world anymore, now that I’m living this parallel life as an author. I’ve had to start keeping a private journal again. And I need to thank a few of my writer friends for listening during some of the more dramatic moments. Thank you, CS, CZ, LB, MO.
I know a little about what will be coming in 2012. I’ll be finishing my revision of 17 & Gone, and revising some more after that. I’ll be asking other authors to write about their own turning points—come back for those guest blogs in a new series starting this January. I know I’ll also be vanishing for a little while. I’ll be writing on a mountain in California for a whole month this spring. By summer I’ll be celebrating the paperback release of two books with new faces: Imaginary Girls in paperback and Fade Out, aka Dani Noir. I’ll be seeing what happens with this new novel proposal I’m working on, fingers crossed. And maybe in 2012 I’ll hear some yeses, maybe I’ll hear some nos, but I’ll be hoping for the yeses—for me, and for you.