Is It Time For My Swan Song?

I’ve kind of been in the mud the last few months, maybe longer, but reading the latest posts by my brilliant blog-mates told me that I wasn’t alone. It’s been a difficult time for so many. Wars, gun violence, the murder of children, homelessness, and political discord have filled the news and social media. We’d have to have a hard heart not to let it bother us. Most of us would say we are lucky to be in the situations we’re in and be grateful for that, but we grieve for those who aren’t. 

For me, the respite has been visiting my grandkids, who are free from all the angst of the world’s problems, as children usually are. It’s a change of pace watching Booba on TV instead of news, though we’re careful not to let our anxieties rub off on the children. Kids growing up in today’s environment of conflict and hate-mongering must absorb some of it no matter how careful the adults try to keep their young minds on youthful projects.

I grew up in a different time. Simpler, with a more united populace. We played outside without the fear of being abducted. We went to school without the threat of a disturbed teenager shooting up the room, though we did have the fear thrust upon us that we’d be annihilated in a nuclear attack. 

I lived in a neighborhood of ghettos, but they were only a couple of blocks, and we all went to school together. One block was Italian, another Greek, another Black, and mine was mostly Jewish. High school brought the Polish and German kids from the other side of town. Some had immigrated here from their countries, so foreignness was part of my life, and I didn’t think much of it. In fact, I embraced it, making friends with the Greek sisters who were put into my fifth-grade class because the teacher was Greek and spoke Greek. Those girls learned English long before they taught me Greek, but I can still remember how to count in Greek and speak a few more words they taught me all those decades ago. One sister went on to become a doctor. Our schools were integrated, so I never thought about the fact that they weren’t in other parts of the country. We didn’t have 24/7/365 news pounding us with bulletins, bad or good, relying on the local newspaper for our information and the fifteen minute TV newscast at six o’clock. It was a different time. Very different.

The world is touch-sensitive to writers. What happens affects what transfers from our brains onto the computer keyboard, even if the reports come from the other side of the world. We are sponges, but that sometimes works to our detriment.

It has affected me. I’ve been distracted enough that my output is minimal, and now, after fourteen books and one in progress, I have to decide whether I want to continue to write stories few read. Now with KDP's new dashboard, I can see when I make a few pennies a day, or no pennies at all. It’s ego-shattering. I’ve long given up the thought that some production company will want to make a TV series about my psychic character, Diana Racine. Isn’t that what every writer dreams about? I’m thrilled for my friends that experience that success in their careers. Looking back, I’ve won no awards, and no contests, though I’ve entered quite a few. I’ve concluded that I don’t write the kind of books that win awards and contests, but I’ve written the books I’ve wanted to write.

I have no regrets that I’ve wasted my time the last twenty-two years. Writing is my fourth career, and I’ve tackled subjects that were important to me that ranged from an unfair justice system to living as a handicapped person to genetics to corrupt cops to abused children to a famous art heist, and to domestic violence. I’ve learned a lot and loved every minute of my journey. I’ve met interesting people who’ve expanded my horizons and with whom I will remain friends. Many I’ve met and many I look forward to meeting some day.

I intend to finish the fifth book in my series because I’m at 73K words, and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, excuse the cliché. I might even finish a few others that are well along. I’ve thrilled at those years I did well and earned my keep, but there does come a time. Will Diana 5 (no title yet) be my swan song? Or will that idea I had for a new series reinspire me as so many ideas have in the past? Only time will tell.

 

Polly Iyer is the author of ten novels: standalones Hooked, InSight, Murder Déjà Vu, Threads, Indiscretion, and her newest, we are but WARRIORS. Also, four books in the Diana Racine Psychic Suspense series, Mind Games, Goddess of the Moon, Backlash and The Scent of Murder. A Massachusetts native, she makes her home in the beautiful Piedmont region of South Carolina. You can visit her website for more on Polly and connect with her on Facebook and Twitter.