My Soapbox Journey

The cover of my memoir. Cover design by Steven Novak.
Click on the image to find out what it's about.

Tonight, I uploaded a PDF of my political memoir, Soapbox, onto Createspace so I could order a proof, in time for a book launch at the end of October.

Wow, it feels great to be able to type those words.

I know there’s more work involved, like proofing the book, then ordering copies, and actually selling the books. But for now, I’m going to bask in a glow of gladness and share with you a little bit of a back story as to how this book came about.

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At the start of 2014, I was a chubby middle-aged woman who was coasting through life fairly contentedly. I had a great family (still do), we'd just finished building a house on our dream horse property in Grantsville, Utah, and I was enjoying some local success as a columnist and a memoir ghostwriter. Neighbors button-holed me at the grocery store to compliment me on my latest column. Happy clients referred me to their friends.

But I wanted more.

For one, I wanted more energy. Writing all day at a desk made me tired, as ironic as that sounds. It made sense -- a sedentary lifestyle is actually harder on the body, which can atrophy if not used.

I also felt an increased moral obligation to do more for our community. In my biweekly columns, I identified problems and suggested solutions, but didn't do the actual work. In the end, a column was just an opinion. I hid behind journalism because it was easier. As an intellectual exercise, I weighed the pros and cons of an issue.

Four things happened that shook me out of my complacency. First, I started a Facebook page to scrutinize the relocation of a medical waste incineration company with known violations from another county to ours. Second, because of that Facebook page, I was asked to take a leave of absence from my column and feature writing (I have since resigned). Third, I started working out at a Crossfit gym. Fourth, I joined a monthly Mastermind group, where we share goals and encourage each other.

I will talk about the first two in my book but rarely mention the last two. Thing is, they are still inextricably linked to the success that I would later experience (to know the details, read the book). As I grew tougher physically (shedding fifteen pounds and taking up running), I felt like I could take on anything. As I grew tougher mentally, setting and achieving goals became second nature.

Fortunately, since I am a writer (and obsessive Facebook poster), I chronicled that roller-coaster saga of the past two years of my life, nearly daily. I never really planned to turn the experience into a book, not until close to election day last year. My thought was, a book like this could have helped me, and hopefully could help other aspiring citizen activists and candidates.  It is also my contribution to Utah's political history -- an intimate look at a rough and tumble prison relocation process that still plays on to this day.

In sifting through my posts from the past two years, I relived eye-opening, aggravating, exhilarating and inspiring experiences. At the end of it all, I am all the more convinced that citizens can and must effect change, and that a community can accomplish great things.

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Soapbox only took me roughly two years from start to published. I wish I could say that of my other published book. My young adult paranormal novel, Ghost Moon Night, took me at least a decade to write. I have other novels that have taken as long, and are still in various stages of completion.

I think the biggest difference is, I am a memoirist at heart. Though I love novels, because I can write about romance and danger in exotic lands, I love writing personal essays even more. I can start out with an image, a scene, an emotion, and follow it through to a surprising end. I say surprising because I honestly never know where a sentence will lead me. Oftentimes, only when I write an essay can I make sense of an experience.

It also helped that I Facebooked my way through nearly all of my experience in the book. Which meant that everything was not only written already, in a breezy attempt to be interesting (who wants to be boring on Facebook, right?), I could only write episodes in short doses at the end of a busy day, and I had a public filter to begin with (if someone had a beef with something I said, I already got drubbed once and either edited out the offending text or not). I still had to rewrite portions, and start some from scratch, but it was easier than writing a novel.

The other reason I’ve written this book faster is shelf life. I wanted to write the book while events are still somewhat fresh in people’s minds. That is the beauty of self-publishing. I can get it out now.

A few days ago, as I finished up edits on my memoir, I was suddenly seized with a paralyzing attack of self-doubt. I wanted to walk back everything I’d done to this point. How dare I think that I had written something others would want to read?

Then a fellow nonfiction author on Facebook, Desirae Ogden, encouraged me by saying, “Keep going. Trust in God. Everyone has a story to share and everyone has specific people that God needs them to help. Your story will help people. I have no doubt about that and I don’t even know what it’s about.”

That last sentence made me chuckle. Her wonderful advice pulled me out of that fearful paralysis.

I’ve had a few people read the manuscript, yet many of the key players in the story haven’t. I’ve tried to be fair and kind, but you never know how people will take your version of the truth. So here I am, about ready to put it out into the world. And I’ll be honest, I’m scared. For the most part, it’s a good kind of scared.

It’s the kind of scared where you push back the curtain and look out and you can’t see the audience for the klieg lights in your eyes. You go to the middle of the stage anyway and, heart pumping, you perform like you’d been billed on the program. Pouring all your heart and soul in the only honest way you know. When you’re done, you open your eyes and applause comes.

Maybe it’s just polite, maybe it’s thunderous, but it doesn’t matter, you did what you set out to do, and you’re so happy you cry.

Jewel Allen is an award-winning journalist, author and ghostwriter. Her political memoir, Soapbox, will go on sale at the end of October 2016. Visit her at www.JewelAllen.com.