Recently, my phone reminded me of the point I was at three years ago.
Photos of bright yellow bushes, red earth, enchanted paths, and an impossibly wide sky danced before my eyes, and I was instantly transported there.
To Santa Fe, New Mexico, the land of enchantment.
Participating in Milena Moser’s writing course in this special spot was a cherished dream come true, and when I scroll through the photos, I top the memories off with an beatific smile.
Yet I wasn’t in too good a state when I arrived there. The completion of my second novel had not left me unscathed. The intense final phase had led not only to a deep-seated exhaustion, but it had also aggravated my herniated disc. Also, at that time I was living a secluded life and couldn’t imagine spending a whole week with a totally unknown writers’ group in the middle of the desert.
Feeling out of sorts, but with a generous supply of ibuprofen and infrared patches in my luggage, I limped to the meeting place in Santa Fe. I reminded myself how privileged I was to be here, a white European woman, and wondered where the joyful anticipation had gone. Simultaneously, I could hardly believe that I was rolling my suitcase through this magical town. In the plaza, clusters of chili peppers dangled in the October sun; the sky beyond seemed bluer than anywhere else. It was surreal, like being in a dream, but a good one. It was surreal, like being in a dream, but a good one.
In fact, from that moment on, fortune smiled on me. After the previous bitter months, I soaked it up like a discarded sponge absorbs rain after a drought. The New Mexico landscape, with its vast horizon, invited to do the same, and the course was a breath of fresh air giving our writing wings. Concerns about the group were quickly dispelled, and the atmosphere was relaxed from the start. I was not only bestowed with wonderful friendships, but I also received, as Milena immediately noticed, “a gift from the writing gods,” namely a new fictional character. She showed up for the first time in the refreshing writing exercise: “describe a family celebration from the point of view of an object”. Later, she kept popping up in all the other exercises as well. Enthusiastically, I pressed her to my heart and took her with me. Because after an exhilarating closing ceremony, with lots of hugs and exchanged addresses, I went on to San Francisco.
Next to the infrared patches in the suitcase, a questionnaire lay waiting. I had prepared it before leaving and titled it: “Happiness Research.” My plan was to drift around my beloved city and spontaneously ask women, who impressed me as resilient, if I could interview them. The idea behind it was and is to collect different portraits, stories, and moments, in order to create a different image of women in a competitive and consumer-oriented time than the one distorted by the media and social media, which is so persistently suggested to the younger generation.
“Real life shit” and a lot of it. That was the plan and the birth of the interview project.
Back home, I continued to squirrel away, with ease, at sporadic inquiries. A few months later, the global roller coaster ride began. Interestingly, the lockdowns also opened a door or two. People who would otherwise have been too busy suddenly had time on their hands for a questionnaire.
These three years have been a journey, and countless exciting things and encounters have happened.
The wealth of experience in relating with strangers has tripled and strengthened my own resilience. The fact that silence is the new no is obviously not only true in the publishing world. It’s customary not to expect a response to a submitted manuscript. If you don’t get one in three to six months, it’s tantamount to a rejection.
I’ve lost count of how many queries I’ve sent out in the last three years, but it’s been loads. Some initially agreed to the project enthusiastically, but then never got back to me. Once an old friend offered to pose as my “assistant Benjamin”, to finally get some feedback. Sometimes no door would open for weeks, then another profusion of luck landed on my desk. The Happiness research also made me happy because some wonderful friendships developed during this time.
It was an exciting process, and every single participant contributed her uniqueness to this wonderful collection. Now it’s time to wrap it all up and count the acorns because the ruffled squirrel is slowly sliding down the tree trunk. Therefore – no new inquiries are to be sent out after the end of the month.
Thus, the next step begins. Everything will be put together, partially translated and proofread, and then flutter into the world as a beautiful book.
What has become of the novel character from Santa Fe? A good question.
She now goes by the name of Frances and must have a strong will to survive, because she didn’t have an easy time with me. Thanks to her persistence, there are still enough pieces of the puzzle enticing me to create a whole picture.
The next major writing project, a novel, is hence resumed.
A new journey begins.
Photos of bright yellow bushes, red earth, enchanted paths, and an impossibly wide sky danced before my eyes, and I was instantly transported there.
To Santa Fe, New Mexico, the land of enchantment.
Participating in Milena Moser’s writing course in this special spot was a cherished dream come true, and when I scroll through the photos, I top the memories off with an beatific smile.
Yet I wasn’t in too good a state when I arrived there. The completion of my second novel had not left me unscathed. The intense final phase had led not only to a deep-seated exhaustion, but it had also aggravated my herniated disc. Also, at that time I was living a secluded life and couldn’t imagine spending a whole week with a totally unknown writers’ group in the middle of the desert.
Feeling out of sorts, but with a generous supply of ibuprofen and infrared patches in my luggage, I limped to the meeting place in Santa Fe. I reminded myself how privileged I was to be here, a white European woman, and wondered where the joyful anticipation had gone. Simultaneously, I could hardly believe that I was rolling my suitcase through this magical town. In the plaza, clusters of chili peppers dangled in the October sun; the sky beyond seemed bluer than anywhere else. It was surreal, like being in a dream, but a good one. It was surreal, like being in a dream, but a good one.
In fact, from that moment on, fortune smiled on me. After the previous bitter months, I soaked it up like a discarded sponge absorbs rain after a drought. The New Mexico landscape, with its vast horizon, invited to do the same, and the course was a breath of fresh air giving our writing wings. Concerns about the group were quickly dispelled, and the atmosphere was relaxed from the start. I was not only bestowed with wonderful friendships, but I also received, as Milena immediately noticed, “a gift from the writing gods,” namely a new fictional character. She showed up for the first time in the refreshing writing exercise: “describe a family celebration from the point of view of an object”. Later, she kept popping up in all the other exercises as well. Enthusiastically, I pressed her to my heart and took her with me. Because after an exhilarating closing ceremony, with lots of hugs and exchanged addresses, I went on to San Francisco.
Next to the infrared patches in the suitcase, a questionnaire lay waiting. I had prepared it before leaving and titled it: “Happiness Research.” My plan was to drift around my beloved city and spontaneously ask women, who impressed me as resilient, if I could interview them. The idea behind it was and is to collect different portraits, stories, and moments, in order to create a different image of women in a competitive and consumer-oriented time than the one distorted by the media and social media, which is so persistently suggested to the younger generation.
“Real life shit” and a lot of it. That was the plan and the birth of the interview project.
Back home, I continued to squirrel away, with ease, at sporadic inquiries. A few months later, the global roller coaster ride began. Interestingly, the lockdowns also opened a door or two. People who would otherwise have been too busy suddenly had time on their hands for a questionnaire.
These three years have been a journey, and countless exciting things and encounters have happened.
The wealth of experience in relating with strangers has tripled and strengthened my own resilience. The fact that silence is the new no is obviously not only true in the publishing world. It’s customary not to expect a response to a submitted manuscript. If you don’t get one in three to six months, it’s tantamount to a rejection.
I’ve lost count of how many queries I’ve sent out in the last three years, but it’s been loads. Some initially agreed to the project enthusiastically, but then never got back to me. Once an old friend offered to pose as my “assistant Benjamin”, to finally get some feedback. Sometimes no door would open for weeks, then another profusion of luck landed on my desk. The Happiness research also made me happy because some wonderful friendships developed during this time.
It was an exciting process, and every single participant contributed her uniqueness to this wonderful collection. Now it’s time to wrap it all up and count the acorns because the ruffled squirrel is slowly sliding down the tree trunk. Therefore – no new inquiries are to be sent out after the end of the month.
Thus, the next step begins. Everything will be put together, partially translated and proofread, and then flutter into the world as a beautiful book.
What has become of the novel character from Santa Fe? A good question.
She now goes by the name of Frances and must have a strong will to survive, because she didn’t have an easy time with me. Thanks to her persistence, there are still enough pieces of the puzzle enticing me to create a whole picture.
The next major writing project, a novel, is hence resumed.
A new journey begins.