Susan Gregg Gilmore is the bestselling author of four novels, all of which are rooted in her native South. Her new book, The Curious Calling of Leonard Bush, releases on August 26, 2025.
My fourth novel, The Curious Calling of Leonard Bush, was twelve years in the making, more than a decade from first inspiration to publication. That is a long time by my standard. Enough time, I feared, for readers of my past novels to forget me. But novel writing cannot be rushed. It takes quiet, reflection, research. Like a fine wine, it takes time. Generous amounts of time. And that is my problem. I do not have enough of it. I imagine many other creative women, desperate to put words on the page, feel the same.
So much has changed since my first novel, Looking for Salvation at the Dairy Queen, was published—namely the addition of a full-time real estate career and the care of my 96-year-old mother. Where I once navigated my days with militaristic precision—dropping my three daughters off at school, rushing home to make beds and coffee, and settling in at my desk to write—now my days follow an unexpected rhythm. The real estate career I had imagined would be both flexible and part-time is neither of those things. Nor is my mother’s care. And although my daughters are grown and my husband is self-sustaining, they still need me, thankfully, from time to time.
These days, one side of my brain is looking at comps and tax records, focusing on ways to build new relationships. I’m showing houses, negotiating contract terms and calming anxious buyers and sellers. Or I’m rushing my mom to the emergency room following a fall or fainting spell, buying her groceries, weeding her garden, or just joining her on the porch for a spell. All the while, the other side of my brain is screaming for quiet, a seat at my desk, for the gift of time to figure out character motivation, plot, point of view. In this new normal, a morning set aside for writing is too often cancelled with a single phone call. Mom cannot find her beloved MSNBC on the television. A client wants to see a house straight away. Truth be told, the fear of losing a sale, much needed income, always trumps the fear of never writing another good page.
So no surprise, three years into my fourth novel, I still had nothing substantial to show my agent. Panic set in. I began to rush the process. As a result, I wrote one crummy draft after another. Every time I sent my agent pages, she responded straight to the point, “you’re not there yet.” My best writing, during that time, were home descriptions for the MLS. I even had a contract’s success hinge on the correct usage of a semi-colon. (Turns out, my seventh grade English teacher was right, grammar is very important!)
But I kept drafting. Ten minutes here. Thirty minutes there, the demands of real estate and elder care always seeping into my thoughts. Two years further down the road, I sent my agent a completed manuscript. “This time, I’ve nailed it,” I told her. I was so certain of it that I suggested a quick trip to New York to meet. We could talk next steps, perhaps celebrate with a mid-morning mimosa. Sitting in a little breakfast spot on the Upper West Side, I drank my coffee, smiling between sips, when my agent walked in the door. She looked at me and gently shook her head.
I am not prone to tears, but I cried throughout breakfast. I wept as I walked to my hotel. I sobbed when I called home. Several people—friends, a former editor, even my agent—offered the same advice. Spend time writing the sequel to your first book, a bestseller, Looking for Salvation at the Dairy Queen. A little time with old friends, however fictional, might prove helpful. Time. Time. Time. Did not anyone understand? That’s what I needed most… more time! Besides, I could not shake Leonard, the main character in this novel that wasn’t working. I loved him. I needed to tell his story. Clearly, changes had to be made.
I called a dear friend, also a writer and a teacher. “You’re writing the wrong novel,” she said. “This is a story about family, not about a boy who loses his leg.” She was right. “You need to enroll in my year-long novel writing workshop so you have a structured space where you can settle in and create,” she suggested. Again, she was right. “And turn off all social media! You cannot measure your progress or success against your peers.”
She was right about that, too. I went even further. I scheduled no work-related meetings before ten o’clock. Sometimes I wrote at my mother’s house, killing two birds at once. Most importantly, I quit racing to the finish line. I learned to be patient. Quiet. Only then, could I give Leonard and his friends and family time to live their lives. And finally, I was led to the story I love, The Curious Calling of Leonard Bush.
Of course, I am not the first woman who has had to juggle work, children, elder care, and her writing dreams. Far from it. But at 63, perhaps I can offer some advice or comfort to other writers who can’t find time to write. The demands on our time are real and often cannot be ignored.
I was forty when I wrote Dairy Queen and worried that I was too old to start a publishing career. Silly younger me. Now I understand that these timelines are of my construct. Not my character’s. My literary or professional goals never mattered to Leonard or his mama, June, or his daddy, Emmett. They were the only people I needed to be listening to. It was the time spent with them that was so important. Even if it was for only fifteen minutes a day, they needed my attention to fully develop, to mature to the point where they could guide me across the page. Because whether it takes one year or ten, or better yet 12, there is no rushing the journey.
The Curious Calling of Leonard Bush by Susan Gregg Gilmore
After losing his leg in a terrible accident, 12-year-old Leonard Bush buries it in his small town’s cemetery. The events that follow could only be described as miraculous, changing the lives of his parents and his best friend, Azalea, forever. In the face of judgement from the local Baptist minister, this small community bands together in pursuit of an unexpected but beautiful future.
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