Happy 5-year (!!) Book Birthday to Simple Acts
Looking Back and Looking Forward
Five years is a long time (especially if you’ve endured a global pandemic and various other calamities over that period), but those years, especially in midlife, fly by at a breathless pace. It’s hard to believe that the photo above was taken exactly five years ago today at the launch party for my first book, Simple Acts: The Busy Family’s Guide to Giving Back. It was a truly magical night, as my community, countless friends and my family packed the room to support and congratulate me. My best friend from college drove all the way from Boston - a one day turn-around - to surprise me. There was cake and champagne, laughter and so many hugs. The pure, unfiltered elation I felt is written all over my face.
The fact that this event happened, that this book was even published, was a wonder. The kind folks at Gryphon House Publishing, to whom I had sent a book proposal in a manila envelope addressed “to whom it may concern,” had plucked it out of the slush pile (aka the trash) and given it a chance. Without an agent, and in a publishing environment that is nearly impossible to breach, it was a small miracle. I knew it then, I’m still grateful for it now, and I’m continually amazed at the ways that my life expanded and changed from that moment forward.
The most incredible part about the whole experience is that only a few years prior to that night, I was not a writer. I wasn’t even close. I enjoyed writing and knew I was pretty good at putting sentences together, but I’d never pursued writing as anything more than a hobby. When I was in my mid-40’s, in my desperation for a creative outlet outside of my roles as COO of my family, PTA volunteer, and chief cook and bottle washer, I joined a local writer’s workshop. Every Wednesday morning, I sat with a group of other middle-aged women as we learned various writing tools and wrote freely in response to prompts. We’d share out stories and give each other feedback. Someone usually cried. C.S. Lewis said “we read to know we are not alone,” and, of course, we write for the very same reason. My writing became a life raft in a sea of stultifying caregiving and mid-life angst.
Finally, I made a commitment to myself. I’m not sure I even spoke the words out loud, but in my head I created a goal: I would publish some piece of writing - an essay in an online magazine, a blog post, a self-published book, anything - before my 50th birthday. I just wanted to prove to myself that my writing was good, that it was worth sharing, and that someone else agreed. I was “manifesting”, speaking it into existence, putting into practice all of the life-coaching, self-help lessons I had absorbed along the way. I was also desperate for some next chapter of my life to take shape.
Around the same time, I had been exploring my passion for family and youth service, helping my friends and neighbors to find family-friendly volunteer opportunities in New York City. I had become a local expert, called upon to help pre-teens find bar mitzvah projects and to coordinate service day activities for our school and temple. This work filled my cup and helped me feel useful and purposeful. It was clear that people wanted me to share the rolodex of resources and ideas I had accumulated through my efforts. I also had plenty of personal stories from my own parenting experience to share - I called them tales from the trenches of trying to raise kind kids. For example, the time my child cried when I tried to donate their favorite (duplicate) toy, or the time another child abandoned the volunteer activity at the soup kitchen altogether and sat down at the piano to play a few tunes. I knew I could create a useful resource guide, sprinkled with humorous, honest personal narrative to make it more engaging and concrete. Fast forward to the plain brown envelope sent to Gryphon House, and a book “deal” with the whopping advance of $250 (I still have that check framed on my desk) and then a connection that led to the publication of my second book (Simple Acts: The Busy Teen’s Guide to Making a Difference), and a podcast and so many other wonderful opportunities. I was lucky, but I also worked really hard. I wrote and networked. I pitched and pitched and pitched some more, putting myself “out there” in an effort to connect and contribute. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t, but as the great Wayne Gretzky said - you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. So I took my shots, and it got me to where I am today.
That’s the funny thing about “manifesting.” It only works if you actually do the work to make the thing happen. You can speak anything you want “into the universe,” but then you have to take the steps - some small, some big, all hard - toward the goal to actually accomplish it. And a little bit of luck never hurts.
I’ve had some luck, and I’ve been supported by wonderful friends, colleagues, and mentors - mostly women, it should be noted - who have cheered for me and believed in me, and for that, I’m endlessly grateful. I hope to always pay it forward, to rise by lifting others, and to be cheerleader for others in pursuing their dreams.
So what am I manifesting now? What’s my next big, scary goal? I’m figuring it out, but I hope to share more of my personal writing and this Substack is the first step in that direction (if you’re not already a subscriber, you can sign up below). Who knows where I might be five years from today? I hope I’ll be photographed on that day with a smile just as wide, with a similar expression of pride, joy and wonder.
Your writing is so precise. I love it. Congratulations. Looking forward to seeing what is next!