Tuesday, April 25, 2023

Just When I Thought My Career Might Be Over . . . It Wasn't

I have given many motivational talks throughout my long career as a children's book author, cheering on fledgling authors through disappointment and discouragement. But I found out (to my shame) that it was harder to say these cheering things to myself when I was the disappointed and discouraged one. When the book I thought was my best book ever was published to fewer accolades than I had hoped, and when the next book (equally brilliant in my humble opinion) didn't get published AT ALL, I started to wonder if maybe it was time for this old gray mare to put herself out to pasture. 

But then (as everyone in the universe knows by now) I fell in love in March of 2022, and suddenly everything that had previously seemed impossible started to seem possible again. Finding late-life love after loss does make one inclined to believe in miracles! And this new man turned out to be someone with a gift for brainstorming ideas - particularly, he informed me, ideas in fields he knows nothing about. 

When David offered to do a brainstorming session with me, at first I balked. "But . . ." I tried to tell him as kindly I could, "your ideas are going to be DUMB! And then I'll feel embarrassed for you! And I won't adore you in the same way ever again!" He replied, "Of COURSE my ideas will be dumb. That's what happens all the time in brainstorming. But I think something will come unstuck for you."

So last April we brainstormed together. And he was right. I came unstuck. I had identified some features of the kinds of books I like to write - books that are "Claudia Mills" books. He typed them up on a sheet of paper; all the teensy writing here was my thoughts as they bubbled up in the course of our long conversation.


Two of the items scribbled on this page spoke most deeply to me: 1) heirloom apple trees in need of saving (my previous book, The Lost Language, was about endangered languages in need of saving - I have a weakness for people who try to save things, even if their efforts to do so are ultimately doomed); 2) an intergenerational oral history project (oral history involves saving STORIES - so more saving!!). 

I began to grope... and to make voluminous notes... and then, timidly, to write. I read the first pages to David, and he offered just the right mix of big-picture questions about the story, smaller insights about particular details, and unfailing, enthusiastic encouragement. In December I shared the finished manuscript with my writing group, the Writing Roosters, for their many challenging comments. I revised mightily and sent the book to my agent right before Christmas; he sent it out to my editor at the start of the new year. She responded - a career first for me - within HOURS, saying she had only meant to take a peek, but had to finish it, and loved it... and a week later - also a career first for me - I had the  offer for publication. 

Several rounds of revision remained, and it takes forever to get a contract finalized and signed, but I SIGNED IT YESTERDAY! The Last Apple Tree is set for publication in summer of 2024. I love the brief description of the book in the contract (which I didn't write): "The Last Apple tree, a middle-grade novel work of fiction, approximately 240 pages, about memory, generational grief, and the importance of difficult truth." Ooh! I would like to read this book myself!

Here are the flowers David brought home for me on the day I got the email with the official publication offer, perched atop a stack of all my notes for the book. 

With The Last Apple Tree now in production and the bulk of my work on it completed, he asked me the other day if I'd like to have a brainstorming session for a new book. Um - yes??!!