Finding footing in a shifting landscape

As some of you may be aware, I’vebeen sort of floundering lately. For a while, I called it the doldrums, but I’mnot sure that’s the right term. And I’m really not sure what’s going on, but Iknow that I am searching, seeking, trying to be patient until all things comefull circle. I think what feels like a shifting landscape to me results fromaging, which brings with it the recognition that my career as an author iswinding down. Oh I still want to write, but the passion isn’t as strong as it oncewas. On the other hand, I’ve begun to realize that some of what I write isirrelevant in this fraught world, perhaps light and entertaining but withoutsignificance.
In trying to work myself outof this swamp, I’ve come up with several ideas and sort of carried them toextreme. I was finally going to write that memoir, this one dealing with thelast seven years when I have lived in the cottage. With pandemic and the false claimsthat the 2020 election was stolen, it’s been a fraught time. For me,personally, it’s been a time of change, much of it overdue, some of it relatedto aging, most of it making me happy. I want to explore that, so I announced tothe world I was writing a memoir, having learned, belatedly, the differencebetween autobiography and memoir.
Then I got sidetracked, hadsome “inspired” (well, maybe) thoughts on a fifth book in my Irene in ChicagoCulinary Mysteries. So I burrowed down that rabbit hole for a while, until Ifound what I thought was a clear road ahead was actually hidden in a fog.
Now I have yet another newidea—you know, don’t you, about those people who always have a “million-dollaridea” and then nothing comes of it? I’m afraid of sounding like that, so I’mnot sharing the new idea I’m exploring. But the fact that I have several,varied ideas indicates how shifting and unstable the land is.
Today, though, I had an ego boostI hadn’t anticipated. I had asked Colin, my accountant son, to see if he could findlifetime sales numbers on the books I had sold through Amazon. He sent me somesurprising numbers that while not indicative of a best-selling title anywherewere evidence that I’ve had a successful career as an author. My ego is happy,if not my pocketbook.
One thing that struck me isthat I sold more books prior to retirement than before. A couple ofexplanations may follow: most of the books I’ve published since retirement areindie published mysteries, and I suffer from the lack of marketing skills andmoney that comes with traditional publishing—granted that source has shrunk inrecent years, but I maintain it makes a significant difference for most of us.And there are always the possibilities that my writing is not as good or thesubjects of my books not as compelling. All of that is part of the shiftinglandscape, which viewed from that vantage may have to do with the enormouschanges in the publishing world.
I’m not complaining. I’ve hada good run, with lots of nice five-star reviews, flattering reviews in goodplaces (okay, I made the New York Times once) and personal comments thatI treasure. I don’t have any statistics, but I suspect I’ve had a career—withmore awards and honors—than most authors have a right to expect. It’s just thatmost of that came over twenty years ago when I was writing about women in theAmerican West. Maybe there’s a landscape hint there.
The here and now is much moreon my mind than the cause and effect of my record as an author, and I hope forthe time being I can explore a new idea while keeping it under wraps.
I will indulge in one statisticalbrag: Mattie, my first novel for adults and the one that won me a SpurAward from Western Writers of America, has lifetime sales of over 91K. For sometime, it sold on Amazon for ninety-nine cents, and there may be a marketing lessonin that. These days, Mattie is only available in print from TwoDot.Believe me, none of my other works come anywhere near that record. But it’s anice thought for me to sleep on tonight.
What’s on your reading list?Please go buy a banned book, read it, and write a glowing review.