A Complete Manuscript! But I Didn’t Write It Alone

I’m excited (and a little bewildered) to share that I’ve finished the manuscript for my book, Sometimes You Should Be Late. I have a slothy cover, too (more on that in a future post!).

You can pre-order it now. Bookshop & Amazon

The book is headed into the copy edit stage, my publisher is beginning to share it with distributors and bookstores, and now I’m shifting my attention to bringing these ideas to readers.

This phase stretches me. Talking about the book is easy. The awkward dance of asking busy people for endorsements or inviting people like you to pre-order and share it with your communities can sometimes feel uncomfortable, or even a bit extractive.

And yet, I know countercultural ideas like these don’t spread on their own. And it would be ironic if the answer was viral TikToks.

They spread because people like you resonate with them, remix them in your own way, and share the ideas with others you are connected to. But here’s the thing: this isn’t a brand-new phase where I suddenly need other people; it’s a continuation of this truth: everything is a co-creation.

I’m not saying that to be magnanimous. This book exists because of people who aren’t me: friends and readers who waded through messy drafts, weighed in on cover concepts over Zoom, and offered questions and ideas.People who’ve inspired me to slow down. Paid subscribers who helped me believe I leave a more-or-less stable government job (🤷) and make a living writing (I have no paywall but feel invited to upgrade here). Members of the Mindful Sundays community in DC and others who helped me feel like I wasn’t always shouting into the void.

In that spirit, I wanted to share the first excerpt from my book. It’s from the acknowledgements, which I call Creating This Book With Others:

Acknowledgements didn’t feel like the right word to honor the fact that nothing meaningful is done alone. So before you enter Experiments in the Wild [Note: a section on bringing this into work/school/family/frienship], I want to share a few snapshots of how this book came to be. I hope it inspires you to let others help you create something.

For most of my life, I believed that asking for help was a sign of weakness. Writing this book required me to unlearn that.

It would be easy to pretend I was always confident in this idea, or that leaving a relatively secure fifteen-year government career to dedicate myself to writing, speaking, and hosting workshops about slower, more intentional ways of living was an easy decision. The reality is that I had plenty of doubt.

When I felt shaky, others were there for me.

Yes, others were there for me. But they didn’t read my mind; they were there because I shared what I was trying to make and how they could help. Again and again, I was surprised by how abundant the support and care were.

So I’ll leave you with an invitation: In the New Year, what’s something you’re trying to create? And how might you let others support you, not by begging them to, but by sharing an idea you have, maybe even before you think it’s ready?

As this next phase of my creative project unfolds, I’m excited to keep creating with you: imagining a book launch that feels more like a slow gathering than Instagram ads or taking these ideas into local bookstores and living rooms across the country (maybe yours!).

For now, pre-ordering the book truly helps. Pre-orders signal demand to bookstores and make it more likely the book finds its way onto shelves. Links: Bookshop & Amazon

Thank you for being part of this already—whether you’ve offered feedback, shared ideas, pre-ordered the book, or simply made space for slower, more human conversations about time.

Thank you and HNY! 🦥

Alex

If you're receiving this newsletter you signed up for my Substack, Slow Mindfulness. There is no pay wall and I am supported in my livelihood by people like you. Please see if a monthly contribution feels aligned with you! I deeply appreciate it. Click here to upgrade.