Amy’s Hello, February 2023:

I’m so fortunate to have an agent! They aren’t easy to find.

But my first novel didn’t sell. This happens often. However, it caught the attention of a great editor who said to my agent, “Have Amy write another book.” This is probably something that happens often, too, kind words given to disappointed people. But I held onto those words and believed there was a reason they were shared. Do I sound naive? I’m probably too old now to be naive, so call me hopeful instead.

History speeding forward–through graduations, multiple jobs, dinners cooked, hours commuting, oil changes–I lost my job during the Pandemic and used that time to finally start on a new novel. Eventually, after another job, I jumped ship from full-time worker to full-time writer, focusing only on the new novel.

For almost a full year now, I’ve been on a great little adventure as a full-time writer. I haven’t earned a single cent, but I’m happier than I’ve ever been and coming to the close of the new novel’s Draft 3.

I’m giving myself one more draft, then I’ll pass it along to my agent and start fixing my first novel! Because I’m stubborn and I refuse to waste a great story.

The ride of a writer is very bumpy. But I held on, two hands, and I’m back at it!

Thank you so much for reading!

xo Amy

ORIGINAL HELLO

My formal About and the Reason for this Little Blog:

I was a child of the 70s.

These were my formative years when kids could run out the front door with 8 cents for Orange Ade rolled up in a bathroom towel and go play in the skunk path before day camp. Or the stream, and get yelled at by a surly woman glued to her kitchen window (“The Mean Lady”).

I must disappoint and tell you I was raised by nice parents, but I was unsupervised when I played, due to the times. And what do kids do when they are unsupervised? They do things that could be put in a blog, years later.

In a secret way, I started to realize that my young life could possibly be a molten story bed that needed to come out of my head. Times have changed but the stories have not. They’re still in there, kept in a cave with deep blue ponds, and now they’ll be typed into this little blog.

I do write and edit for money, but that’s work. I’m relieved I can do this as work, but the (painful) truth is (like everybody else out there), it doesn’t reflect the lady inside who’s primarily lived alone in her laptop all these years, pounding out a novel to the tune of her merry band of muses. While the novel waits for her publisher in shining arms, this lady is ready to see ink, baby.

I had an idea. An idea for a blog that offered snippets of the 70s. I was driving when this popped into my head. I liked the word Circa. I loved that word. My heart became alive. But what year should it be? 74? 78? Not thirty seconds later, I saw a funkette orange Jeep with the license plate: AMY 77.

How’s that for timing? I couldn’t keep my head (or my car) in gear. CIRCA 77 became my instant megaphone, a private land for my creative spark that was bouncing off the walls. And because I am that diner who needs extra sour cream, I tacked on new topics for those days when another decade calls. (As in my Canada Series or ASK.)

Life with its twists and winks, here I am, a little shy to be making a small fuss but dedicated nonetheless. So let’s get groovy! There are things to say.

love,
Amy
xo