Big audiobook news, new fall events, and the weirdest summer ever

Is it an "empty nest" if I've flown it, too?

I’m sitting here at my new desk in my new place and I have no idea how to describe how I’ve felt this summer. Who I’ve been, where I’ve gone, what it all means. For the first time since Still True launched last fall, I’ve been on “break” from book stuff…but I’ve hardly been resting. I say “break” in part because I’ve been working on Book Two, and also because I’ve got a fresh slate of events coming soon this fall—and so I’m still crafting talks and fielding emails and managing promotional schedules. I’ve also gotten several bits of incredible news. Nearly a year after Still True was released, Connecticut-based Tantor Media has purchased the audiobook rights from my publisher. In June, the University of Wisconsin Press ordered a third printing, which is now in circulation. And there’s something else, too, but I’m not allowed to say anything until late October. (Sorry! Stay tuned.)

Meanwhile during this summer “break,” I packed up and moved out of the home I’ve lived in for ten years, moved my youngest daughter to college in another state, and moved in with my husband and his two kids after a decade of driving an hour each way to see each other. (Oh, is that all?) Friends often ask how I’m managing this chaos on top of working full time, but honestly I’ve sought refuge in my 9-5 as an editor at Madison Magazine. Because it’s remained a constant; predictably good coworkers, plenty of analytical thought to balance the creative energy, a production schedule that looks like air traffic control, a busyness that’s deliciously distracting. True stories that have nothing to do with how I live or feel (and often make a real difference).

Work is work, and I also value the way Madison Magazine prioritizes work-life balance for its employees. The people I love are my real life; my true, shapeshifting home. Writing books, then, is just my side job—but what’s hard about it is that it’s so personal. When I write fiction, it’s just for me—and hopefully, eventually for you. I sit here in the dark mornings, alone with myself—every version I’ve ever been—so that I can disguise inside of made-up characters how weird I think it feels to be human. Maybe this will change if I’m ever lucky enough to be five or ten books in, become more anonymous and imaginative. But for now I feel like writing requires a deep source of inner energy and soul-level silence, and those things haven’t come naturally to me lately. So I’ve had to forcefully create moments where my shy subconscious feels safe enough to come out and talk. Lately I’ve been using my feet and occasional bicycle to seek out hidden spaces in my new town. Public piers tucked behind neighborhoods on dead ends. The underbelly of the old train trestle where kids carve their initials in the soft, wet wood. That spot where the bike trail crosses the Crawfish River and the herons hang out because cars can’t.

And then there are the new spaces to explore inside my home. How it feels to celebrate my eighth wedding anniversary (tomorrow, actually) for the first time under the same roof as my husband. What it’s like to no longer be the home my girls come back to. The daily negotiations of new food preferences, dishwasher loading strategies, high school football schedules. The over-under on toilet paper roll placement; which bets are worth placing, what winning even looks like.

September has always been my favorite, all my life, actually, even before it contained my debut novel’s launch date and my wedding anniversary—it’s my birthday month. To me, September means new beginnings, sweet transitions that feel more authentic than New Year’s resolutions made out of desperation in the dead of Midwestern winters. It’s odd, on the eve of turning 48, to feel at the beginning of so many things. But here I am. Thank you for joining me here.

Cottage Grove All Community Read

One of the most exciting things going on right now is that Still True could help a tiny bit in one town’s efforts to build a library. The Friends of the Cottage Grove Library and the Village of Cottage Grove are hosting their first-ever All Community Read as part of the ongoing effort to build a library in Cottage Grove, the largest community in Dane County that doesn’t have one. They will be giving out free copies of Still True all throughout September at 210 Progress Drive, Ste. 2 (while supplies last), and there will be a book club discussion event on Oct. 26 at 6 p.m. at the Granite Ridge School Library. I’ll be doing a presentation and signing. You can read more about the library’s efforts here.

Maggie Smith’s Podcast

I had the absolute pleasure of being a guest on Maggie Smith’s “Hear Us Roar” podcast. Maggie is a debut author herself (and one of the other two finalists up for this year’s Women’s Fiction Writers Association’s STAR Award for Outstanding Debut with me) and has recorded more than 200 interviews with other women’s fiction writers. We had such an insightful conversation and I’m so grateful for the opportunity. In addition to checking out Maggie’s novel, “Truth and Other Lies,” you might also listen to her interview with Carol Dunbar (the winner of the Edna Ferber Fiction Book Award and my fellow presenter at a couple of these upcoming literary festivals). You should also check out her interview with the third finalist for the STAR Award, Grace Marcus—I’m more than halfway through her book, “Visible Signs,” and loving it. I also love that all of the debut novelists I’ve mentioned in this blurb are my age or older, proving that it’s never too late to get started.

Two Literary Festivals and a Fair

I can finally announce that I’m honored to be presenting at three literary festivals this fall: The inaugural Southport Literary Fair in Kenosha on September 30, the stacked Chippewa Valley Book Festival in Eau Claire on October 12, and the 14th annual Southeast Wisconsin Festival of Books in Waukesha on November 4. Do check out the full line-ups at each festival, I plan to attend as many sessions as I can.

More Fall Events

Here we go again! I’ve got some incredible opportunities on the calendar, the details for which can be found on my website—but here’s a quick rundown. (Note: I don’t include private events here or on my website, so don’t panic if you don’t see your event listed!)

• Sept. 20, 2023 – Chilton Public Library

• Sept. 26, 2023 – Kiel Public Library

• Sept. 30, 2023 – Southport Literary Fair

• Oct. 12, 2023 – Chippewa Valley Book Festival

• Oct. 17, 2023 – Sparta Free Library (Virtual)

• Oct. 26, 2023 – Cottage Grove All Community Read

• Nov. 4, 2023 – Southeast Wisconsin Festival of Books

• Nov. 18, 2023 – Watershed Reading at Arts + Literature Laboratory

New Books by Friends

I want to mention two new books out by Madison women I admire and consider mentors. Both authors have been more than generous with me in sharing their skills and their support—both blurbed Still True—and both published their latest books on the same day last month. There’s No Coming Back From This by Ann Garvin was an Amazon bestseller before it was even out, and Wine People by Michelle Wildgen is a Time Magazine and Oprah Daily Summer Pick, among other honors. (Neither of these authors needs a plug from little old me, so you can trust it.)

Final Thoughts

In June I traveled to Valton, Wisconsin, for a week’s stay at Ernest Hüpeden's Painted Forest as part of the honorable mention prize for the Edna Ferber Fiction Book Award. I wrote a little bit about that experience for my other newsletter, Sunday Reads, which I curate monthly on behalf of Madison Magazine. (On that note, book nerds, did you know that I interview Wisconsin authors once a month for Madison Magazine’s website? Now you do.)

Also in June, I traveled to Minneapolis for the Midwest Book Awards, where Still True and the other finalist were named silver medal winners in the literary/historical/contemporary fiction category. I posted about that (and a few other things I probably haven’t remembered to mention) on my Instagram account. I love using the “stories” function of Instagram to document day-to-day life, probably because there’s no pressure to use words, only images—which is a special kind of tempting when you spend all day long dealing in the dictionary.

Finally, I can’t shake this panicky feeling that there are a thousand things I’ve forgotten to tell you. Which I suppose could have something to do with the fact that I rarely send out a newsletter. You can always visit my website for mostly current updates, especially now that September is here. I’m always a better version of myself in September. No guarantees after that.