Thankful for Second ActsSo, I screwed up my October 19th book launch talk.

Fortunately, the veritable monsoon created by Tropical Storm Nestor kept many people away. For those who did brave the elements on my behalf, I owe you an apology and want to make amends. For those who missed it, I’ll tell you what I should’ve said.

Rather than overpreparing—which I’ve been prone to do in the past—I was overconfident and decided to wing it. After all, I knew everything I wanted to mention about my new suspense thriller, Watch What You Say. That title now seems prophetic, because I didn’t heed its advice. Slipping into autopilot, I delivered a speech I’ve given before about my writing journey and added the story behind the story about my new book before doing Q&A, where the Q’s far outshone my A’s.

While some attendees told me how much they enjoyed the event, I quickly realized I’d missed the opportunity to identify two crucial themes in my writing career and my life—which I think would have resonated with more people, at a deeper level. What those rain-soaked audience members should’ve heard about was the importance of support and possibility of second chances.

Since I joined the Atlanta Writers Club (AWC) in 2001 and volunteered for various roles starting in ’02, I discovered the ofttimes unspoken benefit of becoming active in such organizations: it literally changes your life. Every one of my best friends—and nearly all my good friends and acquaintances—are people I’ve met through the AWC. These are the people I socialize with, the ones I contact in good times and bad, the ones who play every significant role in my life. And I wouldn’t know any of them if not for our mutual love of writing and reading and our desire to find a likeminded tribe. Now they comprise my entire support system.

The importance of support for writers is a neglected topic, but it’s critical to our ability to persevere during low points and thrive when the breaks finally go our way. Some of us feel that we require permission to write or we seek advice about how to carve out the time to do so. Others need encouragement to keep revising and querying and trying our luck at conferences and then revising some more. Sharing accommodations and pooling resources can help us attend those conferences, take more classes, and perhaps forego lucrative opportunities in favor of writing. When we do have a book for sale, support comes from sharing news of it, showing up to our book talks and signings, and adding to our sales tally (which sometimes helps us avoid a shutout when no strangers are buying). We get by with a whole lotta help from our partners and friends. I’m so thankful for, and grateful to, my support system.

I’m also thankful for second chances. F. Scott Fitzgerald, writing about his novel The Last Tycoon, famously stated that “there are no second acts in American lives.” I’m living proof to the contrary. In fact, I think many of us experience momentous second acts. Sometimes, we can only recognize the closing of one door and the opening of a new one when we reflect and reminisce. If we’re lucky, though, we spot it as soon as that new door has opened a crack, just as the sound of the old one now slammed shut is still reverberating in our ears and our eyes are trying to adjust to the dark.

As a writer, I witnessed my second door opening while it happened because it didn’t swing wide on its own. No, I had to rattle a lot of knobs first. Back in 2017, I parted ways with my original publisher. Suddenly with no books on the market, I went in search of a new publisher. Like most writers, I encountered a dark, seemingly infinite hallway of locked doors. If any did open, the room within contained perils from people whose apparent business model was to cheat writers out of their work and profits.

All seemed lost—the last echoes of the shut door fading while I wandered in the dark—but, thanks to my AWC support system, I’d befriended a writer named Steve McCondichie. Steve decided to become a publisher who did things the right way. I offered to be the first traditionally published author for SFK Press, which resulted in my books being reissued with stunning new covers, improved content, and audiobook companions. Then Steve brought Watch What You Say into print, ebook, and audio. A wonderful second chance for me—and far more fulfilling than the first time around.

Second chances can happen in all facets of life, from careers and avocations to love and family.

I should’ve talked about such second chances and support systems at my October book launch. I should’ve encouraged my drip-drying audience to contemplate their own second act—or to pursue one with vigor—and testified about how surprising and fulfilling these new opportunities can be. I should’ve inspired them to examine their own support systems and, if they needed to, find more satisfying ones.

I wish I had, but I didn’t. I’m sorry about that. Fortunately, in writing and in life, I have this second chance to set things right.

You do, too. Please join me in giving thanks for that.