On Saying Goodbye

(Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere.)

Cross-posted on my website.

It’s a late coffee break today, readers. It’s the last day of school! This week has been kind of messy, so I honestly forgot what day it was yesterday. And all of a sudden it’s Friday, and I hadn’t scheduled a newsletter.

But, better late than never, right? Since it’s the last day of school and I am releasing a book in less than two weeks, I thought it would be fitting to talk a bit about saying goodbye. (Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.)

But first…

If you’ve been around here for a while, you know my favorite thing about summer is being able to sit on my patio and enjoy my coffee on leisurely summer mornings.

Well, I can’t do that now because the cicadas have taken over.

If you’ve been living under a rock (Or, maybe, not in the US? Do the cicadas take over other countries, or are we the only ones with the pleasure?), there are two massive broods of cicadas taking over the American South and Midwest right now. It’s like a Biblical end times plague of locusts out there. These broods of cicadas basically spend 13-17 years of their lives underground, then come up, shed their skins, scream for a mate, make babies, drop their babies in the ground, and die. This year, in the Midwest, we have both the 13-year brood and the 17-year brood at the same time, which hasn’t happened since the 1800s. It’s disgusting. It’s so loud. Their beady, red eyes stare people down. Their giant wings fly out when they’ve been disturbed and make them look twice as big as they are. They have zero fear of humans—and, for that matter, zero understanding of personal space. They are dumb, clingy, loud, prehistoric devil bugs that will fly right in your face. And, incidentally, pee on you.

And they are everywhere.

Once they start dying, they smell, too. People have to use shovels to clear out the bodies in some places. If you don’t believe me, look on TikTok from some videos in Southern Illinois or even Nashville. It’s bonkers.

They can’t hurt you. But that doesn’t stop me from having an irrational fear of the things. This first happened in my life when I was about 6, and I’ve never recovered. The normal, every-summer cicadas don’t bother me. They largely stay in the trees and don’t really come out. But this 17-year hoard of them really bugs me. (Pun intended.)

Luckily (?), my kids love the things, so I get to hang out outside and watch cicadas crawl all over them while they giggle and make me look at how “awesome” it is. It’s sort of like the worst kind of exposure therapy, because I have to play it cool so they won’t be scared of them like I am.

But I hate it.

I’ll gladly say goodbye to these f******. By mid-June, I should be in the clear. Hopefully. But that’s not what we’re here to talk about today. We’re here to talk about other goodbyes.

Most of my life is cyclical. Like the cicadas, but yearly. I think this is probably the case for everyone in some way—we celebrate New Year’s Eve as a new beginning after all—but having never had a life outside of education, it’s especially true for me. Each year in August, I say hello to a new school year. And each year in May, I say goodbye to it. This means welcoming new students and saying goodbye to them, but it also sometimes means saying goodbye to people and places within the building as well.

I’ve been a teacher for 18 years, and I’ve been working in the building where I currently am for 16. I’m no stranger to this, for sure. I’ve moved classrooms before, and had several friends leave or move on to other positions. But this year feels different. I can’t explain it, exactly. It feels like we are on the cusp of something new. Or maybe I am? I don’t know. I’m moving classrooms again, and several of my supervisors are on to bigger and better things. I had to say goodbye to a friend who lost her battle with cancer earlier this month, too. It just feels like something is shifting.

And on top of all of that, I’m releasing a book. Being my fourth book, I think I can say with some authority that this experience is cyclical, as well. Writing, editing, formatting, ARCs, marketing, rinse, and repeat—right? I have a process now, and even if I tweak it each time, it’s mostly the same.

But releasing these characters into the world is a sort of goodbye, too. Once they’re yours, they’re no longer entirely mine.

This is what I love about literature. This is what I have always loved about literature. Each book means something entirely different to each person who reads it. And, more than that, each book means something different at different times to each person who reads it. You change; the book doesn’t. So, when you approach it again after the world has changed you in some way, you can relate to it differently. It’s an ebb and flow. It’s a conversation. And I love that.

I teach high school. I have experience with sending people out into the world. For 18 years—since my current seniors were born, to put that into perspective—I’ve said goodbye to students, wished them luck, and and watched them move on to bigger and better things. On a smaller scale, I’ve moved my own kid from daycare to kindergarten (and will do it again next year). I’m no stranger to this. And yet, it never gets easier.

Sure, Trevor and Emery (and Mac and Daniel, and Jenny and Ben, and Katie and Brandon) will always be a part of me. They’ll always be mine. But they’ve graduated, and now they’re yours, too. And I think that’s beautiful. It’s such a privilege to be able to share these people whom I’ve loved so much with you.

But it’s also bittersweet, because I’ve held them close to my heart for so long. I’ve tried to protect them and nurture them and care for them. I’ve watched them grow. And now, they’re off.

But that’s the cyclical nature of goodbyes, right? Send one off, start the next.

And so, in a little over a week, Trevor and Emery will be yours as much as they are mine. Even as I am nervous for them, I cannot wait. Because sharing what we love is art. It’s life.

It’s a goodbye. But it’s also time to start something new.

Who is ready for Common Grounds?? I know I am. Get that coffee and Kindle copy ready, because I’m going to be doing a giant giveaway on release day for people who post pictures of the book on their Kindles! If you’re planning to buy a Kindle copy (or a signed paperback from me), do it now! The preorder prices won’t last past release day!

I also casually and quietly dropped a hardcover special edition of The Write Place on Amazon. It’s a long story how it got there, but it’s available for purchase! I haven’t seen it in person yet, but Lorissa did such an amazing job capturing these two. I love it so much, and I can’t wait for it to be in my hands! These will be available at Romance Con in September along with exclusive swag, so grab your pre-order of those soon if you’re planning to be there!

Thanks for coming along for my sappy coffee break this week. I won’t lie; I’m in my feelings about this year being over and Common Grounds being released to the world. But that’s okay! Like Trevor says to Emery (and Vi reminds her later), people have feelings. So thanks for reading through mine. I’ll see you next week with more coffee (and hopefully fewer cicadas).

Happy reading!