That's my daughter sitting in my work space; her expression captures my mood. I'm working on a book proposal. Everyone in the nonfiction book business will tell you proposals are the worst—way harder than writing a book. You have to wear so many different hats at once, and be dashing in all of them, killing it on the sample chapter, the overview (which is like another sample chapter, plus the why of it all), the chapter abstracts (meaning you have to have the entire story arc already in view), the marketing and promotion section (ugh—publishers are all about platforms these days), the competitive analysis (double ugh), not to mention random bells and whistles like evocative photographs sprinkled in just so and superlative quotes about the author from high profile influencers who will catch an acquiring editor's eye.
So that's why I've been a little scarce in these woods. And while I don't want to bore you with the details, sometimes it helps to just process, to say out loud, I wrote one thousand words of the sample chapter today only to realize it wasn't working, and I needed to stop wrestling with it, needed to just throw it out and rethink my whole idea about what the sample chapter should be.
I need to remind myself that this was not time wasted.
Tomorrow, I will begin again.