Phew. Okay. So my last blog post was December 2018, about 14 months ago. I also took my blog offline for awhile. But I think I'm back.
Last anyone heard from me on here, my publisher had finally green-lit my art forger novel, Monet Evanesce, and it was going to be my first full-length novel ever published, and I was psyched.
Only, that didn't happen. I never even got edits. After I'd gotten the email saying, 'Hoorah, we'll start editing and it should be out at the end of the year', I faced a lot of radio silence--which put a little damper on my wild daydreams and enthusiasm. I'd just come back home from graduate school and was stuck in the cesspool of sadness and anxiety that is job hunting, and thought editing my book would make the time waiting to hear back from potential employers bearable. When I finally sent an email asking what was going on, my publisher replied that the area around her home was flooding; I immediately felt like a horrible person for bothering her and decided to wait it out. I sent two more emails over the course of 2019 and got no response.
Really put off by this, I didn't have time to go hunting for an agent or a new publishing house. I worked as a night supervisor over the summer and it really sucked at times. I ran down jobs leads that repeatedly blew up in my face. I considered going to therapy. I got sun poisoning in Florida. I video-called friends thousands of miles away. I spent a weekend in Manhattan and cried at the Met when I stood in an art museum for the first time since coming home. I went back to London at the end of the year and teared up lighting candles in St. Paul's cathedral, stuffed my face with pho, met up with friends, and visited two museums a day. I got hired to be a guest curator at my old university, and I think that's when I started to feel okay again. But I was still busy. No time for books.
Or so I thought.
The truth is, I still don't have a full-time job. I recently designed my own exhibition as a guest curator, which was AMAZING and I felt so fulfilled and ALIVE, but no full-time work yet. And as time-consuming and horrible job applications are, I'm no longer going to let them fill my time.
A friend today at my bookstore job said I should write another book. This astonished me, as I'd given up the author persona for a couple years now. I just haven't felt like a writer. My life is so precarious that I haven't had time to concoct adventures for fictional people. But I miss my characters.
The good thing is that my contracts with that publisher have been expired for a couple years, so I have the rights back to them (I had around four novels signed with them that they never got to). Tonight after work, I bought coffee, stuck on my blue-light-blocking glasses, and edited the first nine or so chapters of Monet Evanesce--a novel about stolen Monets, murderous museums, and forging families. It's so much fun (and researching for it definitely put my on some art theft watch lists, I'm sure), and I think I'll start looking at publishing houses.
We'll see where this goes. Wish me luck! ;)
Official website of Rachael Kosinski, 24.
Pen for hire.