A Decade in Review

I kind of hate that we’ve decided that today marks the end of a decade, not least because I spent quite a lot of energy at the turn of 2000 trying to explain to people that it wasn’t, in fact, the first year of the decade at all. (There was no year zero, and decades start in the year with the last numeral of 1.) Given that, at the time, I was mostly surrounded by members of the college graduating class of 2001, this was an easy argument to make, as we’d all prefer to be the first graduating class of the new millennium than the second.

Apparently, in the intervening years, we’ve lost that argument. Seriously, I remember stopping my subscription to National Geographic because they made the argument that 2000 should start the millennium because — wait for it — it “sounded” better than 2001. Very scientific of you, NG.

So the prevailing opinion of the masses maintains the twenty-teens start tomorrow, and everyone is busy doing this whole “decade-in-review” thing. It’s made also very difficult for me, at least, because it’s tough to look back on this “decade” given that, for the first year of said “decade” I was still a college kid, and my life was extraordinarily different. If I was counting from 2001, as I should be (ahem!) and finishing up next year, as I should be, it would probably be even more notable and transformative.

Because, y’know, I expect 2010 to rock like a mountain.

So, what happened in the last decade of my life? (To keep this manageable, I’m focusing on personal and professional developments.)

in 2000: I began my first novel since I’d been a child. I didn’t get very far. It was an awkward, labored bit of category romance about a wedding coordinator who falls for one of her clients. My then boyfriend oh-so-helpfully pointed out the existence of the upcoming Matthew McConaghey/J-Lo vehicle, which pretty much killed any desire I had to keep working on that story. Also in 2000, I met Sailor Boy. Sailor Boy has been a massive influence on my writing life. I’m so lucky to have him.

In 2001: I took my one and only short story writing class in college, for which I wrote two short stories, both of which were entirely misunderstood by my rather short-sighted creative writing instructor. One was chick lit. The other was a ghost story. Both were overtly feminist. I’m sure it was a mix of the genre and the message that tripped him up. Sailor Boy loved them. I ended up with a B in the class. (Maybe a B+? I can’t remember.) I graduated from college. I started the first novel I was to ever finish, which was also an awkward, labored bit of category romance. I got on a New York City-bound plane the morning of September 11, 2001. I met Julie Leto. I got my first apartment, in Astoria (followed quickly by my second apartment in Astoria). I got my first full time post-college job.

In 2002: I lost my first full time job. I finished my first and second novel (also a category romance). I published my first feature article (a front page story about Julie Leto). I moved to Florida to write for a newspaper. I joined RWA. I sent out my first novel query letter and received my first request.

In 2003: I finalled in my first writing contest. I received my first (and second) rejection. I wrote a novella and my third novel (an action-adventure set in Europe). I started my fourth novel (as well as a bunch of other things). I attended my first RWA conference (care of a birthday present registration by Sailor Boy) and pitched to my first editors and agents. I got a request from the agent who would eventually come to represent me. I moved to Australia with Sailor Boy, and then to New Zealand.

In 2004: I returned to the United States. I got another job working for the newspaper. I won several writing contests. I got about 20 rejections for books I’d already written, including one from my now-agent. I worked on my fourth novel (a paranormal romance).

In 2005: I got the idea for Secret Society Girl. I moved with Sailor Boy to DC. I bought my first car. I finished my fourth novel. I wrote and submitted a proposal for Secret Society Girl. I got a job in DC. I got an agent and sold my first book, as well as a sequel, in an auction beyond my wildest dreams. I wrote my first published book. I stopped counting my rejections.

In 2006: I became a full time writer. My first book came out. I had my first (and so far only) New York launch party for my book. I got engaged. I wrote my sixth novel (second contracted). I wrote my first non-fic essay for publication in a book (Judy Blume).

In 2007: I sold my second contract (the third and fourth books in the secret society girl series). I sold my third contract (Rampant and its sequel), also at auction. (Sailor Boy had been in lvoe with the idea for several years.) I wrote my first critical essay for BenBella. I wrote my seventh novel (third contracted). My first and second book came out in paperback. I got married.

In 2008: I traveled to Europe to do research for Rampant, which I subsequently finished writing (#8). My third novel (seventh written)  was published. I wrote my second and third critical essays on YA literature for BenBella. I bought a house. I got a dog, Rio. I wrote novel #9.

In 2009: I turned 30. I published my fourth book, which was the last book in my first series. I wrote and sold two short stories, my first ever for professional publication (they’ll both be out in 2010). My first YA/first fantasy was published. I finished writing my tenth book. I started work on a project unlike any I’ve ever done before.

Pretty good decade, no matter how you cut it. In my (mostly) twenties, I graduated from college, had a few random jobs, started my career, met a guy, got married, bought a house.

Wow. I’m going to go hug my husband now.

Best wishes for a wonderful 2010!

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This entry was posted on 12.31.09 at 1:44 am by Diana | PRINT