I’m hoping to GET SHIT DONE today. I got up and let the dogs out while I mopped the library. Half the library, anyway. I did today’s Lord Cuttlebone post on Instagram. I’ve also paid bills and…
This is embarrassing, but I’ll share it anyway.
The last TJB novel was published in 2007. There was a TJB email account where readers could contact us. When you’re not publishing, those emails dwindle to nothing. In 2013, Timothy and I became involved with an animal rescue organization that kept us busy, and from that time forward, the TJB email didn’t get checked. This morning, I logged into it for the first time in… well, eight years. There were almost 700 emails, most of which could be deleted, some of which were business-related and needed to be filed, and then there was, yes, reader email that spanned five years.
I answered those without knowing if any of those people still have those email addresses. Or if they remember TJB or those novels. Or if they care. Or if they’re even alive (I HOPE THAT THEY ARE ALL ALIVE AND THRIVING!).
I then did the same for a pseudonymous account under which I’ve written short fiction. It had about half as many emails, only business and junk, no reader emails. So at least THAT author behaved better.
I think any email for the Cochrane Lambert novels (2004 and 2005) went through our gmail. accounts, which are still active. Maybe. I can’t remember. They’re from so long ago that I doubt any reader has tried to reach us.
I’m going to take a shower and then spend the day writing novels that will likely have few readers, hopefully NEVER neglected ones.
Eep!
I miss the TJB books. As you know, I still read them in chronological order, occasionally.
Thank you so much for saying that and for rereading them. I always wonder how they hold up. I was very, very fortunate to work with writing partners in those published works and for the way they never tore me down.
I have diminished confidence right now, and it’s not so much with my writing (I still love romance and friendship and chosen families, still don’t write explicit sex, still want to let characters reveal themselves to me organically). But I’m not sure if what I’m writing will find an audience. It’s a saga, so a commitment, I think, from a reader. There aren’t tidy arcs and endings in the novels. As a reader, I relished books like this and always hoped to attempt a series.
I know I’ll keep going because I love my characters, will love them even when others do not. This year was a struggle because I let people get inside my head about those characters. I had no idea the damage that can do. Lesson learned about protecting my work and my heart.
I will always go back to them. The world needs more TJB and Becky Cochrane books!
As for writing things like explicit sex, I don’t think a decent writer needs to. What is unsaid or simply implied is far more powerful than what is rubbed in one’s face (as it were). This is one reason I much prefer psychological thrillers to blood-and-gore horrors. I also love an ambiguous ending.
I remember the first time I ever heard the phrase from romance writers “hopefully ever after” in lieu of “happily ever after.” Because I always wondered what happens to the people after that last page when everything seemed wrapped up. I WANT my love stories to end up with the right people together, but I also like to imagine how they’ll deal with life beyond tidy endings.
I guess that’s how I ended up writing these books and why I used to call them soap operas. To keep going, there has to be conflict and change.