At the ending of last month, I think a part of me had given up on writing. I have been holding space for my novel for the last ten years. And a part of me was just done already. Yes, I put a lot of work into it. Yes, it was a journey, but maybe I didn’t need to publish it. I was feeling this way because I was starting out on that agent and publisher search again. By March, I had already gotten a few rejections. And that was really making me think about just burning the manuscript. Did I really want to go through the thirty something rejections again? Honestly, by the ending of April, I wasn’t sure. I was truly leaning toward just pushing ahead with my art career.
But like so many things in my life, the universe sends a messenger. This time it was a very good writer friend of mine. She is very wise and honest and kind. And when I told her that I was going to move on, she said to me, “Don’t you want closure?” Closure. That was the magic word. There are things in my life that I will never get closure on. I know what it is like to live with that open-ended feeling on a daily basis.
Now, the promise of closure was too tantalizing. The idea is that your body holds space for your projects whether it be a baby or a creative work. My body has been majorly constipated with this novel for the last ten years. While Nami, the main character, is not me, her story is representative of the kinds of things that have been a part of my life journey. What if I publish it on my own just to get it out of my system? What if after I publish it and let it go, all of that energy that had been invested in that book slowly returns back to me? What if I suddenly begin to create more art? Or even another book?
Three days after that phone call, I was doing a final edit of my novel. I was painting some preliminary cover ideas and I was looking into how I could self publish it. I don’t know when I’ll be done and the book will be out in the world, but the thought and promise of some sort of closure, is what is keeping me going.