Classical Girl’s New Year’s resolution

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Do I want this blog to be the story of the fiery, relentless energy of the ten years in which I produced five muse-inspired novels? The aching loss as the decade-long dream of being traditionally published got pounded down into nothingness?

Nah.

The New Year is a great opportunity to end a pity party over what didn’t work, and move on. It’s what I did in January 2013 when my second ballet novel was on submission with editors, the third such process in four years, with the same discouraging results. I love writing novels; it was what I wanted to keep doing forever. But writing novel #6 wasn’t going well. Neither was writing #7. Or attempting revised versions of both. Hobbled by continued editorial rejection, my attempts to create new material felt awkward and disingenuous, like operating ventriloquists’ dummies where once there’d been flesh and blood characters. Alas, these are the perils of a creative vocation. The muse no-shows, for whatever reason, and you’re screwed, or at least embarrassed into silence about the dreck you’re producing. And what I missed, in truth, was writing about ballet and classical music, even as, fiction-wise, no new ideas had sprung up. Fine, I thought, a dance and music-related blog. That I could do, with or without editorial approval.

Nonfiction comes easier to me, and is not so heavily dependent on a muse. You show up to write each day, you work with diligence, you research to back up your glimmer of an idea, and eventually (for me, at least), out comes an essay or article. It doesn’t give me the same buzz as writing fiction. The latter is like a lover, the former the good friend always there for you, who makes you a cup of tea, lets you cry, then helps you brainstorm about Plan B.

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I’m all for Plan Bs now. Maybe they don’t take me where I thought I was going, where I was so sure I was intended to go, where I really, really wanted to go. But they are taking me where life is pointing me, and they are showing me the way.

Back to my 2015 New Year’s resolution: it’s time to self-publish my ballet novels instead of letting them languish in the drawer. Come spring, dear reader, out goes the first one, Off Balance. In July of 2016, it will be followed by the sequel-but-not, Outside the Limelight. These are books 1 and 2 of “The Ballet Theatre Chronicles” series. They are, if you might not have guessed, ballet novels. Except not really. They are stories set in the ballet world, featuring not just dancers but ex-dancers, dance administrators and others involved with the performing arts world, or just the world in general. They feature characters from all walks of life, who are being forced to deal with the shit that’s landed on their plate. Whether you’re a dancer or not, face it, shit finds its way to you. How characters deal with their plateful of shit, how they use it to grow (shit is great fertilizer, you know), to transcend and be transformed, emerging with stronger relationships and a stronger sense of self—these are the stories I love to write.

While I’m up here at the mic, making noisy announcements I can’t take back, let’s add a few more resolutions. After the two “Ballet Theatre Chronicles” novels are out, I’ll publish my very first novel, Black Ivory Tango, newly renamed because the original story (Black Ivory Soul) has a different ending now.* So does the novel I plan to publish at some point as well, shopped to editors in 2011 as Ecstatic, now renamed Ecstatic Interference. That novel’s been whispering to me a lot lately, coaxing me over to play around with it. I love when my older novels do that. They come back to life, however temporarily. In some ways, I feel as though all five of my completed novels have been given a new lease on life, because I no longer need to write them in accordance with the demands of the Big 5 ** publishing editors. I’ve taken out of the story what I didn’t enjoy writing. I don’t groove on gloomy, edgy stories, sorrow-packed endings. Call me unsophisticated, but I like old fashioned romance tucked into my intelligent fiction. A little sex, good food descriptions, some escapism. An optimistic, satisfying ending. Apparently (um, clearly), traditional publishing doesn’t want to sell what I love to write.

And, hey. How’s about a Book 3 of the Ballet Theatre Chronicles? Sure, why not?

Bye, bye, traditional publishing. (And am I still thinking this is such a loss for me?)

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This is kind of scary, trumpeting out this news. Because it means that I’m going to have to do it. I’m that kind of person. My pride gets in there, and I dig my heels in. When I started this blog, two years ago, I said “minimum two years.” Those first six months, I was ready to quit, time and time again. But that pride thing made me keep at it. And now, I’m realizing that at the end of next month, I will have achieved my goal. Woo hoo!

So, consider it official. Classical Girl’s novels are going to step out into the world. Here’s what the lineup looks like:

  • Off Balance, Book 1 of the Ballet Theatre Chronicles – spring 2015
  • Outside the Limelight, Book 2 of the Ballet Theatre Chronicles – fall 2016
  • Black Ivory Tango – late 2017
  • Little Understudies, Book 3 of the Ballet Theatre Chronicles – TBA
  • Ecstatic Interference – TBA

Please join me, dear reader, in wishing all of us success in our Plan Bs, our New Year’s resolutions, and may 2015 bring us all health, prosperity and satisfaction in our work, families and lives.

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* I blogged about and posted the opening chapter from Black Ivory Soul last year. Wanna read? http://www.theclassicalgirl.com/classical-girls-black-ivory-soul/

** Big 5 publishers = Penguin Random House, Macmillan, HarperCollins, Hachette, Simon & Schuster. Yes, them. The enemy. But I forgive you. I have a hunch I’ll do just fine without you.

11 thoughts on “Classical Girl’s New Year’s resolution

  1. admin Post author

    Aww, thanks so much, Annette. A big step for me to publicly state this plan. But I sense you understand; we are on parallel artists’ journeys, I’m thinking.

    Reply
    1. admin Post author

      Missy, the insanity of it is truly admirable, huh? I remember, as a young adult, thinking courage was something like pulling people from burning buildings, or facing down a squad of would-be thieves. In my 50’s, it’s become far less dramatic. Courage is facing your gremlins, or standing up for what you still believe, in spite of loud opinion to the contrary, is something true and pure in your life that needs preserving. Courage is accepting a humbler version of The Grand Dream. Courage, bizarrely, can even be disguised as failure, that you accept and, even more bizarrely, embrace.

      Who’d a thought it, back in my younger adult years? Jeez, how boring. And yet, here I am, feeling this odd sense of excitement over the resolutions I’ve made, the journey that lies ahead in implementing these goals.

      Whoa, a soap-box moment, if there ever was one. But thank you, and I’m sure that you get what I’m saying, because you’re one courageous woman, too.

      Reply
    1. admin Post author

      Oh, what a lovely response to read, Paulina – thank you so much! (And yes, I imagine I’ll be trumpeting it out to the cyber-world when the books come available…)

      Reply
  2. Grace Harstad

    I’m soooo glad you’re doing this. I’m sure it’s the right move.
    You’ve inspired me to get on with my long-negleted project.

    Wishing all the luck in the world.

    Grace

    Reply
  3. Julie Gentry

    I wrote you something, but I think I did not post it correctly! I think it got lost! Am not tech savvy, but I will keep trying! Julie Gentry

    Reply
  4. Grace Harstad

    I have a hunch, too, that you’ll do just fine without the Big Five “enemies.” Congratulations!

    And, by the way, I’m seriously progressing with my project thanks to your inspiration.

    Reply

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