I will look for that new moon outside my bedroom window tonight. A new Moon even as I grow old. Old in numbers, that is. Inside I am still much as I was, blessed by the writing that flows through my life and connects the younger me to now. A river of goodness and “me-ness.”

Old in the sense of being long-lived brings more experiences and wisdom to write about – lost loves and broken hearts, bottom-of-a crumpled-paper-bag despair. And triumphs.

One thing old does not mean is stopping. Not stopping writing. Not stopping making art.

Still learning. Still growing more gratitude and trying to learn and relearn love.

And doing new things. This next part of my journey with my novel is to get it out into the world. That is complex and involves technologies and ways of being foreign to me. I have to trust the process, the people helping me along the way.

“How many books do you want to sell?” someone asks me.

What a good question to make me think.

“I don’t care so much about numbers as connections,” I say. I know so well that big sales and large numbers are a dream for many writers, reality for a few.

“What I want is to present my book person-to-person, to invite my friends, to talk to readers in book clubs. To touch minds and hearts. And then, such connections can grow.”

         I have seen this with friends’ books. Once you have it, the book itself is the treasure, not money you may or may not make with it. The book will lead to so many new people and places and experiences. And once a book is written it cannot be unwritten. It can stand forever.

I would love to see my story as a movie, and certainly an audiobook. But if that happens, well and good. If not, I have the true treasure –my words and thoughts, my voice, my characters, my story for all time.

I must be careful of what I wish for: giving up control of one’s story to others, on film or TV can lead to angst, sorrow and anger. These people are in their jobs to make money from our creative product. They don’t have the same care and respect for our creative “chidren. As we dol”

I think the late novelist M.C. Beaton might be appalled at what television has done with her Agatha Raisin character and stories. Beaton is a brilliant writer, with prolific output in many genres. (Also writing under the name Marion Chesney.) The richness, intelligence and wit of her writing has been turned into a daffy kind of sit-com-ish Agatha Raisin series. 

Many of the great writers of history wrote to put food on their tables. They also fed their stories with love of words and characters, with all the passion and creativity of their souls. That is why we still read them today. Shakespeare, Dickens, Hugo, Austen, Conan Doyle – the Russian guys whose names I cannot spell…

Write for money, write for love. No shame in either, or a combo. Just know what it is you truly want.