No. 35 | The year of tears and champagne
2023 reflections, and my one guiding word for the New Year
Don’t let the photo fool you. 2023 was not an easy year.
I began the year on the verge of burnout: wrestling with rejection and self-doubt, pushing blindly forward in the face of uncertainty. I was determined to find out once and for all if I had wasted two years of my life writing a book, and if I really had what it took to become a published author.
By its end, I was in a state of creative paralysis. I hadn’t written anything new on Substack for months. (“Just rebrand it as a quarterly magazine,” joked a friend, an idea that I seriously considered for about 20 seconds.)
I was frozen on Instagram, where it felt absurd and shameful to prattle on about my normal, happy, safe life amidst the relentless stream of senseless violence pouring out of my phone each day. It felt both performative and futile to repost news and images and calls for protest, though I was grateful to people who did. All I could do was watch and scroll, silenced by the horrors of war.
It’s hard to write about the things I found most overwhelming in the darkest days leading up to Christmas. Lawyers. Accountants. Taxes. Money. I’m ashamed to admit this struggle, because all this came with the gift of success—should I have not simply been grateful and overjoyed? But this is the stuff creatives and artists are never taught; this year has been a crash course.
2023 took a lot out of me.
And yet.
It gave me so much more.
Among other things, 2023 was the year I…
turned 42
used my new Dutch passport to travel to my boyfriend’s hometown of Dublin
learned how to write a query letter, synopsis, and nonfiction book proposal
long-listed 82 literary agents, emailed queries to a shortlist of 44
signed with my amazing agent Jo!
went on a road trip to Tuscany with my boyfriend
got my PADI open water diving certificate in the Philippines
spoke at the Amsterdam edition of Creative Mornings
traveled by myself to London to meet publishers
missed my Eurostar train *facepalm*
sold my memoir to a Big Five publisher in a six-way auction!
sold translation rights of my memoir to publishers in Germany and the Netherlands
bought and consumed more bottles of champagne than I ever have in my life
traveled to Portugal (twice, with all my loves)
did my first plant medicine retreat
started driving lessons in the Netherlands, and…
failed my driver’s test :(
caught Covid for the fourth time
met with an agent to sell screen rights of my book!
spoke on a panel about non-monogamy
watched my daughter play violin in a junior string orchestra for the first time
signed my first ever book contract!
celebrated four years together with my boyfriend
celebrated sixteen years of marriage with my husband
set up a corporation and became the director of my own company
In 2023, I was most grateful to myself for my persistence and determination.
Zora Neale Thurston writes: There are years that ask questions, and there are years that answer them.
2023 was definitely a year of answers. Actually, just one—the only answer I needed to hear. And that was YES.
In the year that I felt most overwhelmed, rejected, and uncertain of myself, I also—for the first time—truly feeling seen, recognized, and understood as a writer.
I learned that nothing happens in a vacuum. That the greatest triumphs can happen while someone’s world is falling apart. That old stories can seize us as new ones are being written, and that in relinquishing some we make way for the rebirth of others. That in this life we can love and lose, celebrate and cry, feel like shrinking and expanding all at once, and that we have the capacity for it all.
In 2023, I found myself thinking a lot about success.
It was an unusually career-focused year for someone who never really cared about climbing that ladder. It made me confront the question: what does success really mean to me? What does it look like moving forward? And why does it feel like I’m still on the hustle train, even though I’ve already achieved it? (All grist for a future Substack post, for sure!)
At the end of each year I like to Unravel My Year, or if I don’t have so much time, Find My Word with these free workbooks by Susannah Conway.
But even before this year’s downloads were available, I already knew the word I want to guide me into 2024.
Grace. I would like to approach life with grace.
The past year was such a rollercoaster! I felt like I was either over the moon with euphoria or crushed by overwhelm.
In the coming year, I would like to traverse the middle ground in a way that proves to myself that I have grown and learned. I would like to feel more capable and confident, to move through life with smoothness and self-assurance, and to meet change with calm and composure.
The word grace also gives me a sense of lightness and space, of magnanimity and generosity. I hope to be kind and gracious to myself, and be generous and open-hearted to those around me. I want to be open to what comes, and embrace, rather than resist it.
What about you? Because I love hearing from you, please pick one (or all!) and share a little bit of your year with me…
In 2023, I was most grateful to myself for…
Was 2023 was a year of questions or a year of answers?
What was the question? What was the answer?
In 2023, I found myself thinking a lot about…
My guiding word for 2024 is…
Thank you for your curiosity and attention, it means the world to me (especially since I wasn’t the most consistent Substack writer this year!).
I’m leaving Amsterdam for a short, sunny escape soon. But before I do, I wish you a peaceful surrender of the year that was, and and a joyful start of the year to come. See you in 2024!
Congratulations on all your successes, and, heh, just being able to get through it all this year!
I loved reading all of your news-- congratulations!!! Yay, Deepa!!!