People Make Plans
There’s an old adage that goes something like this: “People make plans and God laughs.” The older I get, the more that seems to be true. Martin Luther King said something that isn't quite a corollary, but bears mentioning here. I am paraphrasing: The measure of a person is not where they stand when times are convenient and comfortable, but rather, when times are challenging and controversial. Both quotes are relevant in my world these days.
Several years ago, I was ready to publish another novel, The Faraways. The process was as unfriendly as it had been ten years earlier, when I engaged a hybrid publisher for my first novel, Missed Periods. Like many entrepreneurs, I wanted to understand how to get The Faraways in the hands of readers more easily than the prevailing manner. During my research into the current state of publishing, I found an unfulfilled market niche for mature female writers—women over fifty who still had much to say but who were either not previously published authors or insufficiently experienced to navigate self-publishing or a hybrid model. I’m not suggesting these women were not accomplished in their own right—doctors, artists, musicians, and other professionals—They simply lacked the confidence in this area and did not want to invest time learning the publishing business. Their focus was the writing process, not the publishing industry. I had an interest in both.
During this period, I also was beginning my artistic revival. Many of you who follow me know that I became active in producing art, specifically collage works. Working on art was born out of a sleep issue I was having that required a mindfulness practice after nine PM (There is more about this in my earlier blogs and video blogs). Like many other creative business developers, I explored the potential of putting together groups of creative women who could support each other, in the format of small gatherings, where they could share their work—writing and art—as well as create an informal community with others navigating the same stage of life. I envisioned a board of seasoned professional women serving as counselors and guides, not only for the business model I was creating, but also for the women who would be sharing their work.
Monetizing this business was not a priority. My goal was bringing together talented, smart, changemakers and creatives in community. One of the tenets of my financial success, as well as the advice I give to young people chasing a dream is never to do something for the money, because the money cannot sustain your spirit. Do something that you are passionate about, and either the money will follow and be as robust as your passion, or enough money will follow to support your needs, and the joy your work brings will sustain your spirit.
At the time of this business inspiration, I was a few years into a friendship with another female writer—a professional who also was writing novels in her free time. We bounced ideas around with our own writing, served as editors for each other, and talked about my business idea as something in which she could participate. I don’t know if any of you entrepreneurs out there can relate to what I am about to share next, but as a serial entrepreneur, I had experienced this phenomenon before in the early stages of business development: I became overly involved in the development of the business model and finding a series of artists and writers to beta test the idea. As a result, my own work, The Faraways, took a back seat. Not unusual. My friend was never going to be a partner in my business. I hoped she would become a contributing writer and potential board member. Upon completion of her manuscript, she opted to use a hybrid publisher to get her book to market, which was disappointing to me, but understandable. At that point, I had no publishing business experience, just a great deal of confidence, enthusiasm, smarts, and determination.
My friend’s book became an award winning first novel. She asked me to attend the conference where her book would be recognized, which would also provide an opportunity for me to help her with marketing and to learn more about the publishing business. It was exciting for both of us. We worked closely on ideas, and I hired a designer who developed all her collateral material for the conference, subsequent mailings, promotions, and book readings, which I was eager to plan with her. The designer is now an integral part of the visual messaging for all my business entities. Our book loving friendship ended abruptly shortly after the conference, a result of a major rupture in values. We still chat occasionally, see each other, and share about our respective life journeys, including our work as writers, but there was a loss of innocence with which I still struggle. Even at age seventy, there are certain core beliefs I carry that can still be tarnished.
The friendship betrayal was personal, not business related, and occurred during hurricanes Helene and Milton, which wreaked havoc in my two hometown communities, and caused substantial damage to both of my homes. I was dealing with a devastating blow to my heart, sense of self, my business, and my homes. My life became a series of “what must be done today” lists, and the corresponding emotional recovery list. Recovery has been slow and steady, and it has caused me to grow in many important ways as a result.
My husband and I recently sold our home in Asheville, North Carolina after a fifteen-month-long, failed effort trying to sell our post-hurricane restored Sarasota, Florida property. We each want a smaller life as well as the opportunity to be closer to our adult daughters, who live in the San Francisco Bay area. For now, we are regrouping in Sarasota. Prior to the hurricanes we lived apart for a week or so each month. Since both of our businesses are home based, space for individual change and growth is essential to our long-term relationship. Absence does in fact make the heart grow fonder. We’ll see what living arrangements make sense for us going forward.
While negotiating the sale of our Asheville home, my ninety-year-old mother, who lives independently with my dad in Sarasota, fell and broke her femur. She got through the surgery, hospitalization, and early stages of rehabilitation amazingly well for someone her age. Much to my dismay, she and my father have decided to leave the assisted living facility and return home after only six weeks, with some home health care support. Once again, I am navigating multiple circumstances that carry deep emotional impact.
So, full circle here—the part about plans and God laughing—despite the back-to-back stressful events in my life, not to mention the world situation and the condition of the United States leadership (or lack thereof), I cared for my parents during their time of tremendous need, moved long distance, built an online community-based business involving art and books, finished and published The Faraways, made a few new friends, and stayed in touch with my old friends. I accepted support and help when it was forthcoming, and I asked for help more often than usual.
Another inspirational quote is from one of my favorite films, The Sound of Music: “When God closes a door, he opens a window.” I am not a religious person, but I am spiritual and I believe that all my issues have led me to a place of developing a business model that allows me to create community charity projects by finding matching grants for sold art from my website. The joy of our contributions through four different online events has been incredibly rewarding. One of the big lessons I have learned is that turning stories into action is important.
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Busy is good. Too busy to feel pain, however, is a defense mechanism that prevents growth. I am still feeling all the feels. I have come out the other end knowing myself better and feeling quite capable in the face of non-stop stress. The key to navigating these past two years has been to find joy in each day. Big joy is wonderful, like the birth of our first great-niece earlier this year. She is the first in the next generation of our clan. What a giant joyful lift she is. But the little joys matter, too. Like a great cup of coffee with my dog by my side, sitting in the morning sun staring at nothing but blue sky. Ahhh…
I took a leave from the daily tasks of writing and art to tend to my life’s “garden” over these last two months. Slowing down to listen to what is going on around me has been another lesson. When my kids were growing up and were learning to cross streets, there was a teaching rhyme we used that goes like this: "Stop, look, and listen before you cross the street. First use your eyes and ears, then use your feet.” Works for most of life’s moves. I'm listening and looking more closely these days.
I hope to be rolling out several new products, fundraisers, and opportunities for joint ventures to support Creatives and the communities in which we live and work. Stay tuned, and, as always, thank you for checking back and weighing in.
With gratitude.
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