Housekeeping Notes

Winter discontent

I was brushing my teeth as the year crossed over from 2024 to ‘25, not paying attention, hoping it would come in mildly. Two days later, I found out my mother-in-law had passed in her early sixties. And the morning of her funeral, when we were about to leave, I learned that my last surviving grandparent died at 98. I will tell the story in a more literary way later, but right now it’s easier to tell it plainly while I process it.

Mourning could not have felt more different between these two. My relationship with my mother-in-law grew tense at times because she struck some nerves that had been struck a few too many times before, just this time in a New Jersey accent instead of Southern. She was gone far too soon and unexpectedly, and I wish every day to have her back.

Looking back, my grandfather and I never argued. He was always sweet and reserved. I saw him mere weeks ago at Christmas and could have expected this would happen then because he slept most of the day — barely ate and didn’t join us for the gift exchange. I cried at the dinner table while eating some impeccable scalloped potatoes. Unlike my mother-in-law, he died many years after most expected him to, surviving wars, heart attacks and experimental stint procedures.

A year of nines and snakes

When the Lunar New Year approached, I had to sigh a quick “yes, please.” It happens to be a snake year, according to Chinese astrology, like the year I was born. Still, this ouroboros of a snake year slipped in like the knot in the back of my throat, blocking my grief’s escape route.

They say in esoteric circles that 2025, as it adds up to 9, is a 9-year, which means in numerology that it’s all about endings, completions, rebirths and ends of a cycle. I turn 36, which adds up to 9 — not to mention that I have a few nines in my birthday alone.

Nine alone weighs on me heavily, and we’re only 27 days into the year now. My wish for the rest of this “9 year” is for one of these beginnings to bring reprieve, or at least something happier than losing two people loved and grieved within seven days of one another.

…

Lessons for other emerging writers

Let’s talk about something less sad and more frustrating. Some unexpected barriers to entry have come up that might help someone else.

When I got started with creative writing, I thought the only gatekeepers I’d have to worry about were editors. I imagined them lined up, standing guard over their publications, knives in their hands instead of pencils.

I didn’t know I’d be expected to have my shit together far before I was ready. The writing part is going fine, great, in fact. The ADHD part, which will long outlast the growing pains, is another story.

Anyway, Medium served as one of my creative writing portfolios for as long as I could get by with it. After all, I’ve met great people here, and I’ve learned so much. Having the portfolio aspect of the site to tie it all together made sense.

A couple months ago, I got some news that I was tagged as a Contributor on Goodreads and was strongly encouraged to set up an Author account. Which means I’d need a website. Almost $300 and three hours later, I had one up and after several tries (because I don’t read instructions well), I finally got into the Author portal. But at a cost. A pretty big one at that.

Even the website alone, though, didn’t get me in. I had to sign up for a new email domain connected to the hosting site. More money.

Also, apparently, author photos are a thing, and you’re just expected to have them sitting around?

I recently went on a podcast, and the pre-production sign-up sheet asked for several author photos in a specific format and size. No headshots, no selfies, nothing corporate at all. Well, I didn’t have anything like that, so I sent what I had and got a slap on the wrist. How did I not think that a professional photo shoot would be part of an otherwise reclusive endeavor? I felt exposed and not quite ready for it.

So, if you learn anything from me, it’s not necessarily to come prepared with a bunch of sexy black-and-white author photos plus a website — but maybe don’t be as surprised as I was so you can get ahead of requests. (Looking for photographers now.)

I also plan to save a couple thousand dollars for my website costs and *fingers crossed* to buy a new computer. Which I plan to use my Medium money for, bringing me to my last point.

Leaving Medium

I’m not leaving Medium. That was a jump scare.

Why? I’m a slow creator. I don’t work every day on creative efforts, despite good advice both validating and admonishing my pace. I looked into Substack, but I can’t imagine I’m fast enough for it. Don’t people want to subscribe to someone who posts frequently and keeps them interested?

Seems like Substack favors video creators and constant posters, but if you’ve experienced something different, please let me know.

Yes, I have noticed the decline in views and $$$ on this platform, but I’m going to try a few more stories and see if there’s more movement soon. If not, I’ll look at other avenues to build up my savings.

Thanks for listening. I hope to be back soon with more stories and poems. For now, though, I might need some time.

Also, follow me on Substack: https://substack.com/@maggiemccombs