When You Should Give Up On Writing a Book . . .

I have a ukelele on my living room wall that I bought optimistically.

Every so often, I think I’m going to learn to play that . . . but never do.

Despite saying that I want to — 

Despite knowing that I could definitely learn to play some island tunes —

And despite knowing that it would make me feel really proud to have people over and play music the way my grandparents did — 

The ukulele stays on the wall. Even though music used to be a dream for me. As a teenager, I used to write songs and practice singing and dream of being on stage. I gave up on my dream of being a singer in high school, when I practiced for a solo and my dad thought the cat was trapped in our basement. (True story.) 

Looking back, I could have tried harder and done more. I could have asked my teacher for a lower part, or individual help. If music had been my ultimate passion, I might have asked my parents for lessons or learned how to play an instrument.

The reason I’m not Taylor Swift right now might be the same reason you’re not a bestselling author right now.

It’s because for me — music isn’t worth it. 

My desire to play the ukulele or be on stage isn’t strong and persistent enough for me to spend hours practicing, to face seemingly endless rejections, or even to do the day-in, day-out work that being a musician requires.

And that’s okay.

I was — and am — okay just being a fan. There’s music on every single day in my house, and that’s enough for me. 

But back in the day, I thought I had another way into the music industry — through radio. Working at my college radio station, I dreamed of being in A&R. I wanted to find artists and support their careers, make their dreams happen. But then after running that radio station and getting a glimpse at what the music industry was really like, I decided not to pursue it. 

And in the end, giving up on those dreams was the right choice.

Essential, really, because freeing up that space and time led me to other adventures.

After my dad thought I was a cat, I swapped out practicing scales for reading.

When I quit the radio station, I switched my major and ended up in a creative writing class where the professor thought I was a better editor than writer. 

Those choices led me here, to writing this email, to you.

A few months ago, I heard a music show on Apple Music featuring ’90s country. 

I really liked the host and sent him a DM saying how much I enjoyed his show. I told him — as I do whenever I fangirl someone — that if he ever wanted to write a book I would be happy to help.

He’s now a client, and has told me that the work I do is exactly what an A&R person would do in Nashville. The only difference is that I’m working with words instead of music.

Dreams are a funny thing, y’all. 

Sometimes I think a dream is simply a nudge from the Universe or God or Source or whatever you believe in — pointing us in the right direction. When I look back I can see how all of those dreams I had, whether it was to be a performer or a radio DJ or an A&R rep or even the dream I had in my 20s of being a powerful businesswoman in a suit yelling into a Bluetooth headset — all came true.

Just not in the way I had originally pictured.

So — you might be wondering, how does this apply to you and your book?

First, I give you permission to close the door on your dream of getting a traditional book deal if your desire is fading. Or inconsistent. Or meh. 

Because in my experience, anything less than I have to or I must isn’t going to work.

Second, I also give you permission to allow the nudge that led you here, to reading this email, to work its magic. You might not be ready to pursue a book right now, for whatever reason, and that’s okay. 

And lastly — when you are ready to go all in on your dream, I am here for you.