A postcard from North Florida
A call to arms for rest + pleasure, plus a workshop giveaway for one lucky reader
Hello and Happy Wednesday!
If you’re short on time today, scroll down to the bottom of this post where I have a super cool opportunity for nonfiction writers to win a free (!) spot to a nine-week book proposal-writing course that’s kicking off July 9th.
If you’re not short on time, hello there! Would you like to hear about North Florida?
You know what is one of the most important parts of writing that nobody discusses? Mother freaking rest. I work hard, but at 46 years old, I’m only able to work hard because I make time for rest. If you’ve taken my Time Management class, you’ll know that I’ve been frontloading my work week for years—working my hardest on Mondays and Tuesdays, and gradually tapering off. Weekends, I don’t work at all.
Vacations are a big part of my work schedule. Destination vacations when I can afford them; staycations when I can’t. Occasionally, when I have a writing-related finish line to cross, I’ll treat myself to a workcation, which is what I just returned from.
There is a place in north Florida that I’ve been going to for years. It’s called Suwannee County. Several years ago, friends of mine started a horse breeding operation there—a place where they could get land cheaper than in Wellington (Official Winter Horse Capital of the World) and Ocala (runner-up for this same title.) A few months into their move to north Florida, my friend Olivia called me. “You’ve got to see this place! It’s an hour from the gulf, it’s riddled with natural springs—there are dinosaur-sized sturgeons jumping in the river! It’s in the middle of nowhere but there’s so much to do!”
I went down for breeding season to help them with “live cover,” a rather terrifying activity that involves helping horses reproduce while protecting the mare’s safety. Needless to say, it was hot and dirty work, so after each, um, mating session, we’d escape to the nearby springs to cool off and reset. From my first dip into the extremely cold but also extremely magical turquoise water of Wes Peacock Springs, I was hooked. My childhood dream was to be a mermaid, and with a pair of goggles and a little courage, I was able to access that dream inside the spring.
I’ve gone back five or six times to Suwannee County since then. I’m sorry to say that my friend’s marriage did not survive horse ownership in Florida which—between terrifying predators that prey on livestock, nutritionally-impoverished grass and three hurricanes in 1.5 years—they divorced and their business faltered. But I just kept on going to the place they introduced me to.
Today, I want to show you the springs I so enjoy. It’s a thousand degrees in Connecticut this week and—as of today!—I’ve turned my book in, so I’m longing for that nice, cool water again.
The “work” part of my workcation didn’t kick in until week two when I sent my husband and daughter home from Jacksonville, and returned to the river house we’d rented to prepare my next novel, ALAN OPTS OUT, for my contracted delivery date. For this part of my workcation, I had a partner in crime: fellow author, friend and Substacker
who was working on all things pre-pub for her gorgeous new novel HOT WAX, which comes out this September.I am an extremely early riser, and M.L. works at night, so we enjoyed a really fluid schedule where I was basically out of the house visiting springs by the time that she got up, and I was off to bed when she was doing her most creative work.
Generally I’d get up at 5:30 a.m. and work by candlelight until 8:30 a.m. or so. Then I’d drive myself to a new spring to explore and swim for a few hours, come home to do email and lunch until 2pm, when M.L. and I would go out and do a joint excursion. We’d come home for happy hour, light up the tiki torches to dissuade the mosquitoes from joining us, and eat TV dinners in front of “The Ugliest House in America,” hosted by Retta (of Parks & Recreation Fame) which is perhaps the single best TV show in the entire world.
So basically, my dream schedule. The springs in question are between 69-72 degrees, so if I was feeling tired from my early morning wake-ups and/or the extreme heat, that water worked much better than caffeine.
Whenever my novel publishes, I will have these perfect springs to thank:
Spring 1: Ichetucknee Springs, north entrance
I want to host my 50th birthday at the north entrance to this park—one of my favorite places in the world. This park is known mostly for the tubing and kayaking opportunities on its famous river, but I basically treated the spring at the north entrance as my personal swimming pool. (With a $4 day pass, it was cheaper than my local Y!) I tried to make it there at 8:30 a.m. when the sun hit the springs just right (if the sun isn’t high, the springs aren’t quite as turquoise so it’s harder to see fish, turtles, logs, mermaids and such.)
At that time of day, I was spared the crowds that flock there at lunchtime, kicking the sand up and making the caverns hard to see. The first time I went early, I met two professors from Gainesville and a local man who had a metal detecting hobby that I loved learning about. I also met some tremendously large turtles. (Are you wondering about gators? You’re probably wondering about gators! This water is too clear and cold for them, though you will occasionally see them on the river banks just off the springs. Are you wondering about snakes? There are snakes. There was a big ass black one at our river house who lived down by the dock. I named him Kirkus. If you know, you know.)
Spring 2: Little River Springs
Little River is a particularly interesting spring because it feeds off the Suwannee River which is big and powerful and tannic like the Mississippi River, but nevertheless manages to coexist with the gentle springs that jut off it here and there.
When the Suwannee River floods, spring lovers like myself are screwed because the springs get brackish, at which point 1) you’re missing out on the turquoise experience and 2) you’re risking gator encounters.
When I was there, the Suwannee was low so all the springs I visited were crystal clear. In this video, you can see where Little River Springs meets the tannic, warmer water of the Suwannee River:
Trippy, right?
Spring 3: Troy Springs
Troy Springs was perhaps my favorite new-to-me watering hole that I visited during my trip. In addition to an initial 100 FOOT HOLE that greets you when you enter the water (in the picture, it’s the dark circle just beyond the rocks), there is a capsized civil war ship that you can swim down to and explore. The story behind the ship is very interesting. In 1850, a fellow named Mr. Tucker had a steamer named The Madison that he operated as a general store, floating it up and down the Suwannee to get people their orders of clothing and dry goods. Mr. Tucker was incredibly proud of his boat and it was a big part of the community, so when the south started losing the Civil War, he decided there was no way in hell that the Yankees were getting his boat. He hid it in the inlet of Troy Springs, and when he got word that the Yankees were close, he lit his boat on fire. It was powerful to be able to swim to—and interact with—the remnants of this boat and the dark history it’s associated with. There were some VERY BIG turtles living in between the wooden lats of the ships’ ribs!
Spring 4: Zillow!
Obsessed as I am with this region, I’ve been tracking its home market for years, and there is this one place that my heart wants very badly, so I had to go and visit it. With carpets in nearly every room and wallpaper on the ceiling, it’s a real contender for “The Ugliest House in America” so Retta, if you’re a reader of Before and After the Book Deal, baby, hit me up!!
Not wanting to waste anybody’s time I was honest with the real estate agent that while I don’t have the money for this home at present, putting aspirational energy out there is kind of a real thing? We had a fine time admiring this absolutely bonkers coke den of a river house where I want to write each winter. (Carl Hiaasen, watch out.)
I have apparently hit the email length limit for this newsletter but don’t go yet because I have a cool opportunity for my readers, just below. (Sidenote: if you’re into small town stories, I really enjoyed the podcast “West Cork” and devoured “Varnamtown” both of which involve small and somewhat secretive communities like the place that I vacationed. Trigger warning for the first podcast: it’s about a true crime that involves violence against women. Trigger warning for the second: the hosts could have been more sensitive around class issues, but it’s an absolutely crazy story involving North Carolina and Pablo Escobar that will keep you company on a long drive if you have one coming up.)
Now on to that opportunity I mentioned:
You know what is a thing a lot of you might be doing this summer? Working on a book proposal, hopefully somewhere with A.C.
Writing book proposals is rewarding, but it isn’t easy, and unlike sinking into the writing of a short story or an essay, it isn’t something you want to do alone. With book proposal writing, outside perspectives can help ensure you’ve identified the best marketing angles and made yourself sound like exactly the right person to be the ambassador for your book.
Good news if you agree with this, because best-selling author Hannah Howard (her debut was Feast and her sophomore memoir was Plenty) and educator and ghost writer Kelsey Erin Shipman have teamed up to create a live, 9-week summer workshop called Dream to Deal: Book Proposal Workshop to help nonfiction writers turn their ideas into agent ready book proposals. Lucky me, they asked if they could give away one free spot to a reader of “Before and After the Book Deal.” Lucky you, this free spot is worth $1,500!
Entrance in the giveaway is reserved for paid subscribers— all information to enter is after the paywall. Feel free to upgrade your subscription if you’d like to throw your hat in the ring for a free spot in this super useful course!