I’m not even going to give this a title.
Not everything needs to be a sales pitch.
Cross-posted to Substack.
I hate coming up with headlines for this thing. They all sound so trite and contrived. Which, I guess, makes sense because I’m basically shouting, “Open this! Read this! Pick me!” into the void, hoping something resonates enough for it to fight through the noise of your inbox or your news feed.
And I get it. I’m an author. I’m selling books (or trying to)… but I’m starting to think that’s not what it’s all about, and I’m making strides toward changing how I show up in the hopes that I’ll be able to show up more often and more authentically.
But first…
There’s nothing more authentic than my need for caffeine. Spring semester started this week, and Speech is ramping up toward our biggest (and longest) tournaments of the year. Thank god For Dunkin is all I have to say. I’ve been enjoying their iced brown sugar coffee in the middle of my day and still sleeping just fine at night. Which should give you an indication of my level of exhaustion.
As a teacher, I’m almost always asked to select a word for the year. I see a lot of people doing this on social media for 2025, and while I generally function on an academic calendar (which means picking my word in August), I have been thinking about ways to improve in 2025. I posted an Instagram post on Wednesday that was my reality: constant worries about huge things (society, my students) and more specific, personal things (my children, my career(s)). It was a picture of me that wasn’t cute or curated, writing at my desk at 5:30 in the morning because that’s when I had time to do it. My hair is dirty; my complexion is… 40 years old, I guess; there are clear bags under my eyes.
In that post, I mused that I thought my word for 2025 would be “confidence” because I’m not allowing anyone to undermine my confidence in any area of my life this year. But as I typed about it being a miracle that I keep showing up and keep writing words, I thought maybe my word should be “miracle.”
That post felt great. I cried as I wrote it, then jumped in the shower and put on a cute outfit and went to my day job to welcome my students back for the semester. I incongruously feeling a little lighter. I shouldn’t have. I should have felt uncomfortable. Bogged down by my worries. Nothing was solved by putting all that out there. It was only made public, and I don’t usually show up on the internet in that way.
And yet, in letting it it out, it’s almost like I let it go.
Sure, I’m still worried about everything I listed in that post (and then some). None of that has changed. But I shared a little bit of my reality. Turns out, from the comments and DMs I received, I’m not alone.
Maybe my goal for 2025 is to be more real. Except I don’t think I show up inauthentically; I am generally a positive person, and not in a toxic everything-is-great-here-are-all-the-silver-linings kind of way. I’m realistic, and if you’re friends with me, you know I hate a lot of things. (I am the grump, after all.) But I am used to putting on a face. While my students care about me, for example, it’s not their job to solve my problems, and it would be inappropriate of me—the adult—to ask them to. And I’ve been doing this for almost 20 years. Old habits die hard. So, often, the way I show up in my classroom is the way I show up as an author. I have a plan. I’ve got my shit together. I’m happy to be here.
None of that is untrue. It’s just not the whole truth. And while I assume everyone knows about the rose-colored filter everyone puts on social media, sometimes it’s equally damaging to be putting that filter on your own life all the time for the sake of the ‘gram.
Since we’re being real, last year was one of my hardest on record. Personally and professionally, I never felt like I could get ahead of anything. I was headed in the right direction, but never truly felt like I was succeeding. As an Enneagram 3, I basically need success like I need air. Yes, I know I looked successful. By a lot of peoples’ measures, I certainly was. But there were a lot of times I didn’t feel it, or wished for more without a clear idea how to get there.
I still don’t have a clear idea how to get there, but I know how not to get there. Eight weeks of hardcore promo before a book release, curated Instagram posts, five TikToks a day (OK, maybe that last one does help, but I outsourced my TikTok creation and have never felt better about a decision). Being on every day, all the time. Using everything as an opportunity to persuade people they should listen to me, to sell something.
God, when I put it this way, it all sounds so disingenuous. Maybe that was the problem with last year? That I looked at everything in this author space as an opportunity to get my work in front of an audience as opposed to an opportunity to just be. That can’t be all of it, though, because I did really create some genuine connections and made some lifelong author and reader friends in 2024, and I wouldn’t trade that for the world. But I was blindsided and betrayed by people I thought I had a connection with, too. Those growing pains won’t be forgotten for a long time, but even in the face of them, I didn’t want to talk about it.
I assumed people wouldn’t like me if I my personality was too much while simultaneously being constantly worried I wasn’t doing enough. And that’s in every space, not just as an author.
Over winter break, I shut down. I ignored pretty much everything nonessential. I cried a lot. I didn’t question whether or not I should keep writing, but thought a lot about how I wanted to. A few things out of my control (and then a few things in my control) have thrown off my publishing schedule, and I was feeling the pressure to put out something else quickly to make up for Love Out Loud going on submission. See the aforementioned afraid I’m not doing enough. But it was all too much, so I needed a reset. I didn’t write any of these posts (did you miss me?), stopped posting on social media, and took a break from writing and editing.
The thing I discovered is that I like showing up. But I don’t like selling. I like engaging and being engaged with. I like being here. I like long form content and short form content and taking up space. I just like doing it on my terms.
So, all of that is to say that I’m back. My writing might look a little different for a while as I wrestle my mental health back in line, but it’s me. It’s always me.
I’m enough.
This summer, I basically pestered the beautiful and talented Hannah Bird into writing a series of holiday novellas with me. And I’m sorry-not-sorry about it, because this first one is so freaking cute. It turned out so great, and I’m so proud of us, and I cannot wait for you all to visit Heartsong and meet this quirky cast of characters. If you also cannot wait, grab your pre-order now! It releases February 1.
Speaking of showing up… I officially launched my YouTube channel. I’d love you forever if you subscribed! If you like these newsletters, you’ll love that channel because it’s basically me spouting off similar opinions to the ones here, but you get to hear me being irate and see me make ridiculous facial expressions. I’ll be releasing videos every Sunday morning!
Finally, I guess I’m joining BlueSky? I don’t know… Meta seems to be eating its own tail and who even knows about TikTok, so I’d love it if you could join me over there, too.
HOW HAS IT TAKEN ME SO LONG TO READ THESE?! Sarah, you beautiful, wonderful, brilliant human—I’m sorry. If you have been sleeping on Sarah Estep’s Brunch Bros series, this is your call to wake up. Read them now. They’re so good.
Did you see that Lorissa Padilla surprise released a New Year’s novella? I got to read it early, and believe me when I say: it is SO CUTE. You absolutely need to read this gem. It’s on KU (but why wouldn’t you want that gorgeous cover she designed on your shelf??) and it’s a quick one! Start your reading goal off right with this one, for sure.
I hope you all had a restful holiday season and, like me, are ready to show up in 2025. More next week. For real, this time.
Happy reading!
Allie