Welcome new subscribers! It’s been a minute since I last sent one of these missives, and so many of you have joined this newsletter in the meantime—if I’m counting correctly, I think our numbers have doubled over the last four month! You have no idea how happy this makes me. I’ve always been a “more the merrier” type person.
If you’re not familiar with my little corner of the internet, I typically write a monthly newsletter, the occasional personal essay and short story, along with a weekly writing series. There’s something for everyone. So make yourself at home and feel free to look around.
“I have been at home.”
That one phrase is repeated thousands of times throughout Martha Ballard’s 972-page diary. And it was the single phrase that spoke to me most during the three years that I researched, wrote, revised, and edited The Frozen River. Ironic then, that the last four months of my life have been the exact opposite.
I have not been at home.
Until now.
After four months, three legs of book tour, nineteen cities, and twenty-one events, I finally got home (for good!) on March 20th. The first thing I saw upon entering my kitchen was the cherry tree in full bloom in our backyard. And right beside it, with newly unfurled silver leaves, was our Maggie Tree. Spring arrived in Tennessee while I was gone. I burst into tears at the sight, then promptly crawled in bed. I’ve slept ten hours every night since.
In the last ten days, I’ve given myself only two mandates: recharge my batteries and refill the well.
In other words, rest and read.
Because, starting today, I am back on deadline for the new book. And I am back to our Writing Series. (You can expect the next installment on Wednesday—we’ll discuss different ways to stir the plot. 😉)
Until then, here’s what I want to say: Thank You!
Thank you to everyone who bought a copy of The Frozen River. It was quickly apparent that Martha’s story means something to you and it has easily been the most successful book launch of my entire career. I never saw that coming. No one believes me when I say this, but I really didn’t think anyone would read this book. I’ve been writing for a long time and I know that not every book can be “the” book. Sometimes you write “a” book. I’ve certainly published several that arrived to very little fanfare. It’s a normal part of a long, happy career. And it’s never really bothered me. Stories always find their people, eventually. Even though I was obsessed with Martha’s story, I truly thought there might be too many barriers to entry. I take you back two hundred years in time (you’d be amazed by how many people don’t want to read a book that doesn’t have electricity). It’s cold. There are hard subjects at the heart of this story—it’s never easy to read about rape or murder. So, I assumed that no one would. And since no one was going to read it, I figured I would just tell the truth. About long marriages and big families. Motherhood and middle age. I decided to write about all the things that matter to me. Justice. Mature heroines. The waning days of parenthood. The twilight years of a long love affair. Being a woman in the world. All the ways in which our children break us. I even added fictional versions of a real fox and a real baby that had made their way into my real life. I gave the book everything I had. Every last good sentence I was capable of writing.
And then, of course, I got an email from my publisher last June telling me that Good Morning America had chosen The Frozen River as its December book club pick.
My first thought was, Oh God, people are going to read it. I told too much truth!
As it turns out, people want the truth. That’s what this book—and it’s many readers—taught me. They want real. They want a main character they can root for. They want to be taken on an emotional journey and then left with the certainty that things can be okay in the end.
Thank you for teaching me that.
And thank you for showing up in all those cities from Nashville to Boston to Dallas to San Diego. Meeting you and talking about Martha was the most fun I’ve ever had on tour. And boy did you have a lot to say about the ending to this book! (I’ve never gotten more hugs or fist bumps in my life).
Thank you for letting me talk with my hands and explain my utter devotion to Tempest, our silver fox. People brought little gifts. They brought babies. They brought stories of their own about why Martha pressed a bruise on their soul. Sometimes I cried. Sometimes you cried. But it all made me feel as though I was amongst friends. Even when the alarm clock went off at 3:00 a.m. or when the plane was delayed or when I realized that I hadn’t packed enough tampons.
The crowds for the third leg of tour were bigger than the first or second. Why? How? I don’t know. I’m just so grateful for it. You brought your mothers and your friends and your book clubs. Some of you even dragged husbands and boyfriends along and I did my best to make them laugh as well. I saw friends that my husband and I made in a swimming pool in Cozumel seven years ago! And other friends that my husband grew up with in Texas. And of course there were the friends that I brought along as conversation partners. (I’m looking at you Erin Cox, Gabriella Saab,
, , and Julie Monroe). My husband even got to tag along to a few events. We jokingly refer to this as the friends and family tour.In San Diego, I strong-armed Jane Oppenheimer—the audiobook narrator for this novel—into doing the event with me. It was such a special night. That room full of avid readers got to hear directly from Jane about how she brought Martha Ballard to life in an entirely different way. It’s the first time I’ve met one of my narrators—and was even more special as I’d chosen her from the five different voice actors who auditioned for the book.
I know I haven’t been here in a while—I haven’t been at home—but I am so grateful that you’ve stuck with me. And that you showed up for me. There are so many new readers in this space and tens of thousands more who have just met Martha Ballard. The response has surpassed my wildest dreams. It has reminded me that words on paper are no small thing.
As I turn my attention to writing this next story—and helping you write yours—I am reminded, once again, that Story is the shortest distance to the human heart. Thank you for letting me share this one with you.
Congrats, Ariel! Good luck resting and re-charging.
Martha saved me this past January. I was 40 weeks pregnant surrounded by heavy snow and preparing for an ice storm (I live in the PNW where we don’t do winter weather). I put myself on bed rest and was beside myself with fear. Then I discovered your book! I had no idea what it was about, it was a “suggested for you” book and my JAW DROPPED at how it was the right book in the right moment. Martha gave me so much hope, encouragement and most importantly perspective. After giving birth all I heard was everyone saying how stressed they were for me. I’ve told everyone I know about this book. It helped me so much and I am forever grateful for you. 🙏