I Should Say Something

A little update, not much. Maybe a sprinkle of inspo for aspiring authors?

It surprises me that people subscribe to this newsletter on a fairly regular basis considering that I do not promote it and haven’t since I first launched it, only to leave it more dormant than not. Yet another Pandemic Project gone untended to, like my “plant room” (massive failure; does anyone need some plant lights) and the decoupage coffee table that needs some mystery finish so that it might be suitable for use.

I have, as I mentioned, been writing a book since the beginning of the year. So it isn’t that I haven’t been putting the acrylics to the keyboard, just that I’ve struggled to figure out just what to chat with you guys about, what to share about the writing process thus far, how to talk about it without spoiling anything, etc.

Aside from the emotional nature of some of the topics I’m exploring, the most difficult task thus far has been trusting my own voice. This is somewhat ironic considering that I started my career firing off hot-takes at rapid speed, stopping for factual research but rarely taking the time to cite other voices. Certainly, that was many moons ago, but it isn’t as if I don’t have the ability to speak my feelings and opinions at length, or that I haven’t had a lot of opportunities to do so throughout my professional and personal lives.

Who am I to have theories about how the world works, how that impacts people around me and how I might want things to go differently? How do I have the audacity to make such bold claims without citing the work of others to justify every word? Do I really believe the things I stand for hold up? Now that I have ample space to be heard and a platform I deeply desired for most of my career, what do I have to say? This shit is daunting, y’all.

I had a lit agent for about five years before we sold. My proposal, however, was crafted in six months and was finished just before we submitted it to the editor who would acquire my book. I’d known since 2010 that I wanted to write a book. I just wasn’t sure what that book would be. It took me a long time, and the support of my agent, who encouraged me to take on Black single motherhood as a primary theme while I, much as I had in my own life, tried to reduce just how central it was to whatever story I would eventually tell.

Once I embraced taking on the most deeply complicated part of my identity, a book concept emerged clearly. I was finishing up the proposal this time last year; now I’m hunting and pecking my way towards a January 2023 deadline. But while the story I want—need—to tell remains clear, trusting my own words to carry the brunt of the message is so very scary. I’ve never had to believe in myself like this, and it’s forcing me to confront the self-doubt that is easily hidden by the mystique of confidence that accompanies unpopular opinions. You gotta be pretty confident to get up and say that shit, right? LOL, not necessarily!

I’m literally terrified of this book, of putting these feelings on paper, let alone releasing that paper to the world. However, one of the things that keep me going is that people keep signing up for this newsletter without me even updating it, let alone advertising it. It’s not that it’s that many people, but it’s largely people who have read my writing at some point over the years—even if it hasn’t been in years—and who, for whatever reason, trust my voice. If they can, why shouldn’t I?

Anyway, I love you all, please binge Queens and Grand Crew so they can get renewed because those are my stories and I need them.

We’ll do this again soon, really.

Jamilah