Yesterday, with two concerts lined up in Lancaster, Pennsylvania—one at 2:00 pm and another at 7:00 pm—I found myself with a bit of free time, just enough to pop into a bookstore. Being a budding author with my book already on pre-order, my publishing team has nudged me to check out local bookstores whenever I’m around.

Now, I have to confess, I’m not exactly a frequent book buyer. The challenge I have is that I’m all about balancing my music journey expenses with little indulgences here and there. And buying a book? Well, that always feels like a special treat. But when a book truly grabs me, I just have to have my own copy.

Recently, while tuned in to NPR, I stumbled upon a gem of a book titled “It Didn’t Start With You”. After snagging it from the library and diving into a few chapters, I knew it was one for my personal collection.

So, off I went to the bookstore, eager to find this newfound treasure. But alas, it wasn’t on the shelves. Undeterred, I roamed around, hoping something else might catch my eye. After a few laps around the store, I found myself in the word game section, where a quirky little game called “Brain Freeze” stole my attention. Perfect for the next Notes & Floats event at the studio, I thought!

This whole bookstore adventure brought back memories of a similar outing last summer with my husband Tom. We had headed to Barnes & Noble in anticipation (and maybe even celebration) of the thought of my book being sold there. Staring at rows upon rows of books and colors, I felt a bit overwhelmed.

I was working on a big homework assignment from my publisher: fill out an extensive author questionnaire which included things like showing them samples of what covers I like (and don’t like). I felt like I needed a day at the bookstore by myself just to look at titles. I decided I’d return another day just to look at titles.

As the team at Morgan James began designing my book cover, they invited my input and asked what colors, fonts and overall tones I preferred. From that list of samples, they would begin to design my cover for me. Looking at all of the titles in the store, through the lens of me having my own book on the shelves there, I had a slight brain freeze.

Fortunately, because I already had artwork from my Christmas album, Portraits of White, I asked if we could use that artwork as a guide. They agreed that we should consider it as an option. One of the team members especially liked the pink coloring in the corner of my album cover and knowing how fond I am of anything blue, (confirmed by my top picks from the book store field trip), we now had something to start the process.

Brain Freeze.

On this book publishing road, just as the fog of one brain freeze begins to lift, another swiftly descends. I remember one very defining moment when I had the last round of changes to make to the manuscript. We were getting down to the wire. This meant reading my book from cover to cover (yet again) and ensuring every nuance echoed with authenticity and clarity. I took the weekend to read the whole thing from start to finish. I panicked. At this final juncture, suddenly filled with incredible self-doubt, I wanted to stop the presses. Paralyzed, I couldn’t seem to do the work. That following week when I talked with my editor, I told her of my terrible weekend.

Remember the Why

“Remember why you wanted to write this book in the first place, Frances. Keep going back to the why. Look at this through the lens of your audience.” Her calm yet firm voice was just what I needed. “If you start comparing yourself to other writers and styles, you’ll be paralyzed in your writing.”

Breathe. Remember the why!

I wrote Portraits of White because I wanted to give my fans another way to connect with me and my songs. I wanted them to know parts of the story they’ve never heard. Remembering the why, I turned in my final document to the editor.

Speaking of hurdles and battles, did you know my publisher sifts through thousands of manuscripts each year, only selecting a mere 200 for publication? It’s a tough field out there, but somehow, my story stood out. Sometimes that piece of knowledge brings me comfort, reminding me that it must have been meant to be.

Yesterday, standing in the bookstore surrounded by creative book covers, interesting title fonts, incredible stories and shelves of words, I could feel another “freeze” coming on. They tell me that writing the book is only 10% of the work. As a recording artist, I totally get it. But this is new territory. Similar, yet different. How will I do all that it takes to see this thing through?

So there I am, in the bookstore processing all of this. My intention had been to chat with staff, buy a book, grab some coffee and relax in the coffee shop before my 7:00 performance. Though I did have some nice conversation with a few of the staff, I started feeling a tad anxious as I thought about all that lies ahead of me. So I dashed up to the counter, bought the brain freeze game and headed out to the warmth of my van.

I made my way to the next concert and got caught up in making music with a brilliant musical colleague, violinist Jonny Tice. In the midst of our musical synergy, the grip of brain freeze loosened its hold, allowing me to immerse myself fully in the moment.

At the end of the concert, Jonny invited me to set up one of our favorite closing songs, O Holy Night (a tune we play all year long).

Reluctantly I stood up from the piano, took the mic and shared my story in a nutshell; the loss of siblings, the way it affected my family and my own feelings toward the holidays, how I skipped Christmas one year, started writing songs, made an album, created a Christmas show and how this particular arrangement of O Holy Night came to be a part of that show.

As I shared my story I could see how it resonated with the audience.They too have suffered loss. They get it.

We finished the concert with the song and enjoyed a standing ovation–a warm embrace from the people. I remembered how much our stories matter.

And as if on cue, upon checking my email this evening, I received word from my publisher that another milestone has been reached: my book now has its own landing page. (I’ll let you know when we start promoting this page).

O Holy Night at the Portraits of White 2019 Concert, performed by Jonny Tice and Frances Drost.