They’re kind of like trolls, but these ones are internal.

I flippantly told my hype team that if I got 200 Kindle pre-orders for Christmas by Design that I’d put on my Christmas tree a week early. For those who don’t know, this is a big deal for two reasons:

1. I scheduled Christmas by Design’s release for Black Friday because I am a staunch supporter of all things fall and Thanksgiving, and Christmas does not start until Black Friday for me.
2. Getting pre-orders is incredibly difficult in the age of Kindle Unlimited and in an over-saturated market (especially around the holidays and a major election where people aren’t spending as much).

At the time, I was at 150 pre-orders. 50 more before Thanksgiving? Nah. It wasn’t going to happen. Which is fine! This little book has already earned out what I’ve invested in it with foreign rights and audio deals. And who saw that coming? Certainly not me. And even if it hadn’t happened, this is a super low-pressure release for me BY DESIGN (see what I did there?). I needed a break from the high-stakes releases I’ve had recently.

Well, friends. As of the writing of this newsletter, we are at 221 pre-orders. I posted my gorgeous character art to Threads, and the bookthreaders took it from there.

So. The tree is going up this weekend.

Haven’t pre-ordered yet? You still can for only $0.99! Or order a signed copy from my website—it’ll ship right away.

If you’ve been here for a while, you know I had a Keurig in my classroom. That was, admittedly, a mistake. I was (shockingly) not drinking any water, and I was keeping it hidden because it’s not something I wanted anyone else using or touching or whatever else. Oh, and it grew mold, which is apparently a thing these things do? I had no idea.

Anyway, it is at my house now. (And totally cleaned out. I’m not gross.) But I have been LOVING IT. My husband is very particular about his French press coffee. Don’t get me wrong, I totally benefit from that because it’s good. But it’s also half-caff and takes a while to brew. And he absolutely will not, under any circumstances, brew flavored coffee lest it change the flavor of the next pot he brews. Which… fair. But I love me some pumpkin spice. So I bought some fully-caffeinated pumpkin spice flavored coffee and burned through it myself. I have no regrets. It was delicious. This is going to be a Speech season game-changer when I have to brew coffee in 2 seconds before leaving at 5:30am on Saturday mornings for tournaments.

If I’m reading the room correctly, we are, collectively, having a moment of anxiety. Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t think it is. This is pretty common in periods of transition, even if it’s a good transition, and we are most definitely transitioning right now.

For readers, this might mean that you see a lot of very different types of writing (female rage, anyone?), or writers pushing back deadlines because we just can’t right now.

For writers, our anxiety might be manifesting in a lot of different ways. Maybe we’re stuck in a never-ending doomscroll. Maybe we’re wondering if anything is worth writing anymore. Maybe we’re wondering if our silly little romance novels mean anything. Maybe we’re wondering if we’re actually good at this, or if we’re terrible writers and no one has the guts to tell us.

And no! These things are not at all related to current events! But that’s not how anxiety works. Anxiety finds the worst-case scenarios and latches on to them in the form of what-ifs. They’re like little demons, just waiting to be fed, and their favorite food is your insecurities, whatever they may be.

(If you’ve never had anxiety and you’re suddenly feeling an iteration of one or more of these things and wondering why the hell this is happening to you when it has never happened before… welcome to the club none of us want to be a part of. I’m so sorry you’re here.)

When I was in college, my university hosted a creative writing conference. One of the session presenters was talking about writer’s block and imposter syndrome. She suggested having a notebook next to your computer for you to start drawing a spiral. Keep the coiled lines as close together as possible without touching. It’s really hard to do! But her point was that the demons in your brain telling you that you don’t know what to write or whatever you’re going to write or have written is hot garbage need something else to do. “Give them something to do!” she exclaimed. “Try it! It works!” So we all busted out our notebooks (This was the early aughts in a creative writing bachelors program. We all had notebooks at the ready.) and started spiraling. Not anxiety spiraling. Drawing spirals. You get the picture.

I was 20 years old at the time. I thought, This is cool, but I can’t see myself ever using it. I look back at that now and think, Oh, you sweet summer child.

It wasn’t until my third book that I started the spiral thing. The first two were so easy to write. I had no expectations and no clue how harsh people could or would be about my writing, since I drafted The Write Time while The Write Place was still with my editor. Time was ready to go by the time Place was published. It wasn’t until The Write Choice that I started to feel it. Place had blown up a bit, I was much more aware of marketing strategy and social media, and I wanted my trajectory to continue. Scratch that. I’m an Enneagram type 3. The Achiever. Anything less than the success I had seen previously would be a failure.

(Spoiler alert: That’s not how publishing works. LOL.)

It later occurred to me that the spirals I was drawing looked kind of… unhinged? Serial killer adjacent? So I started coloring instead because it looked less like insanity and more like a soothing hobby. But, same principle. Coloring sheets with tiny spaces are good demon snacks, too. And, at the end, you get a pretty picture. If you’ve ever seen Instagram pictures of my desk and wondered why on Earth I have so many colored pencils and pens when everything is digital, now you know why.

I’ve been in therapy for my anxiety for years. One of the major themes is not engaging with the anxious thoughts. When you engage, they get bigger and harder to fight off. (Doomscrolling is engaging with the anxious thoughts, people. Get off the phones for a while.) Feed the demons, and they grow. Give them a task, and they shrink.

My friend who passed away at the end of last school year had a saying she used to repeat: “Not my circus; not my monkeys.” I love it. I say it often. It works really well when you’re anxious, too, because what it means is, essentially, I’m not going to engage with that. That isn’t about me, so I’m not going to worry about it right now. Or, if it is about me, as my therapist likes to say, “Just because it is your circus, it doesn’t mean you have to buy a ticket.”

My husband is a newcomer to these anxious thoughts. For a time, he was having trouble sleeping. When I asked him what was going on, he described a dream. I’m not huge on dream analysis, but this one was a no-brainer for me. He said he was in a zoo enclosure, trapped with a lion and a monkey. He wasn’t going to mess with the lion—because, duh—so he ran away from it and climbed a pole. But the monkey wouldn’t leave him alone. It climbed up, sat on his shoulder, started poking him, started tugging his hair. You know, basic monkey stuff.

“So, what did you do about the monkey?” I asked.

“I punched him.”

“And what did the monkey do after that?”

“It got really angry and started scratching at me. And then the lion woke up and it was angry, too.”

I side-eyed him so hard, but he was adamant he had no idea what it could possibly mean. Luckily, he’s got me. So, I told him the lion clearly represents those big anxious thoughts you know not to even go near. They’re so big, you can’t do anything about them anyway, so it’s best to leave them alone. But that little monkey? He’s the little thoughts. The ones you don’t see as a threat. You look at it and think, “Oh, that’s a cute little monkey.” And maybe it is cute. But it’s also a little sh*t, and it’s going to pester you and bug the hell out of you until you pay attention to it. When you punch it… well, that’s like feeding the demons. It’s going to get mad. And wake the lion, which is exactly what you were trying to avoid. But if you ignore it, it’ll eventually lose interest and leave you alone, and the lion will stay asleep.

So. Don’t feed the demons. Give them something else to do, instead. Don’t punch the monkey. Let him do his thing and he’ll eventually go away. And definitely, for sure, without a doubt, do not wake up the lion.

Have I lost it? Maybe. If you look at my notebook full of spirals, you’d certainly think so. But I think it’s sound advice. Hopefully it helps someone here, too.

And remember, if you find your anxious thoughts are more overwhelming than this simple advice can help you with, then I highly recommend seeking out a therapist. Mine saved my life, and that’s not even an exaggeration. Psychology.com has a therapist directory that can help.

Big thanks to Taiko Bennett AGAIN for threading about this and inspiring this newsletter topic.

I already updated you on Christmas by Design, so my next biggest update is about Common Grounds! It was just released on audio, and this audio is wide, which means you can find it ANYWHERE! Spotify, Libby, Libro.fm… and Audible and iTunes. I can’t wait for you all to hear Emery and Trevor brought to life. “You taste like you were made for me” on audio? YES, PLEASE.

Whether or not my tree is going up this weekend, I’m staying in my witchy era for a little while longer. At least until I finish this series. The Stay a Spell series by Juliette Cross begins with Wolf Gone Wild and I am really enjoying it! I’m currently on Resting Witch Face, but I can confidently recommend this whole series. Alpha men, witchy women, hilarious banter, fun magic… what’s there not to like?

Okay, y’all. Off to go… set up my tree, I guess. I’ll post pictures on the ‘gram when it’s done.

Happy reading!
Allie