To My Subscribers, and

It's Coming! This time it's going to be...

Friends,

Some news. Lisa Loop, author and owl, is back.

I appreciate the support of those who are still here. It means more that you can know.

As I think I have shared openly, I went into burnout after self-publishing four novels last spring. I did ALL the things, promotion, press (as far as I was able), everything short of parties and signings. Four novels is a lot. No one knows how to support you when you publish four novels, with two different author names in two different genres. But my community tried.

(I queried all these novels, an average of 100 times each with varying letters and versions. I came close to being signed twice. But ultimately, no agent took me on. I made the choice to self-publish by creating a press within our thirty-year-old family corporation, Fall of Rome. Publishing four more books on top of the one I published years ago was a great learning experience, but I would be happy never to repeat it.)

It was a LOT of vulnerability. At first, when the downloads were free and I had consultants doing the right key wording, I got some exciting stats. Number one Intergalactic Military Sci-Fi! Number one AI Brain Damage Thriller! Or thereabouts. My brain protects me from remembering too well because as soon as the helpers stopped their work, sales stopped. I got a few reviews. My first one star! Etc. But no more page reads. A few weird reactions from loved ones, kindly meant, but devastating. Also, some awesome praise, which went in one ear and out into space again.

I had to find safety. I worked on poetry, compiling a poetry book and chapbook. But when those were sent off, I found myself exhausted. I had no ideas. I felt humiliated and embarrassed. I felt drained.

Also, a bit proud. I did the thing. I got the novels I was hoarding out into the world. On the tail of earning my MFA, it was impossible to hang onto my lifelong sense of not having accomplished anything. An undeniable chink was made. I accepted that I needed to take a break.

I accepted a position writing reviews, took a 40-pound GLP-1 journey, built a lot of muscle in the gym, and allowed my writing self to rest. Like everyone else, I looked critically at the historic moment our nation is in, and what it really means in the grand scheme. I adjusted my information intake. I planted tomatoes.

For the first time, I trusted that my inner knower would steer me back to a novel if that was what I am meant to do. I started therapy, working on my inner conflicts, my early training to shut up and keep the peace. I went to the farmer’s market and walked on the beach. I traveled and laughed with friends. I read a lot, discovering new writers to admire. I hiked in Spain, drank Sangria in Portugal, and slinked around the MoMA, feeling lucky, because I have a lot to feel lucky about.

So here we are! Rested, refreshed, and proud to have failed so spectacularly. In my other life as a Coach, I know how important it is to face the big, scary thing. Being a loser. Failing. Etc. As well as counting all the blessings, the body parts that are healthy, the children who are thriving, the husband who indulges me, the friends who continue to walk hand in hand, sometimes sharing jokes and sometimes laughing when life is not at all funny.

I am out the other side of burnout, rested and refreshed. I survived the worst. My voice slowly, over many months, returned and started to whisper her intentions. So…

I have a big announcement!

I am 30K words into a new novel.

She’s coming. What a relief. And a test of self-trust, because this time it is the voice leading the way. I am not micro-managing her. It’s flowing and I could not be happier.

I expect that like all creative work, this book will take a long time to be honed into something worthwhile. It’s autofiction, meaning a fictionalized version of something like a memoir. My writing heroes are big, successful weirdos like Karl Ove Knausgaard, Annie Arnaux, and Adam Ross. So, you know. Shooting for the stars.

On the other hand, you are probably aware of bits and pieces of my life story. You know that if I tried to tell a stranger all of my crazy experiences, pretty soon that person would lift a silencing hand and tell me I was making up stories. I’m not doing that in the book. It will have a limited scope. But yeah, there are some baroque experiences in there.

I will so keep you posted.

Love, Lisa