I want you to be the first to know.
I have decided to withdraw my self-published books, Out of the Woods and Departures from circulation.
This choice was born from past seasons of reevaluating my life and aspirations. While these books are dear to my heart, I no longer resonate with some of their facets. I've recognized certain technicalities and linguistic nuances that no longer align with the writer—more so, the person—I am today. While they once represented milestones in my career, they are now mere markers of the lessons I learned and the values I have come to redefine.
I want to be transparent about the realities of self-publishing. While it's granted me a level of control over my work that traditional publishing might not have, it hasn't been without its challenges. I've made mistakes along the way. At the time I ventured into self-publishing, I was young and naïve, but I don't regret the decision to bring my first three works to life in this manner. However, with the wisdom of hindsight, there are aspects I would handle differently now. As an eighteen-year-old, there were complexities of this industry that were simply beyond my grasp.
Moreover, it's crucial to recognize that self-publishing doesn't automatically pave the way to traditional publishing. This is something I've been aware of since the outset. I would like to clarify that this move is not aimed at seeking representation; it is focused on reclaiming agency over my creative expression. Furthermore, self-publishing provides freedom for the author to shape their online presence and literary legacy. I choose to exercise my autonomy by curating what remains accessible to the public from this day forward.
To each one of you who has walked alongside me for the past years, thank you with all my heart. Your dedication and purchases have been more than just transactions—they've been a beacon of hope during my darkest seasons. Your support has meant far more to me than mere numbers on a sales chart. It has been a source of inspiration, a reminder that even in adversity, there is still reason to choose joy. You may have noticed a pattern in the timing of my book releases, and perhaps you've wondered why. Out of the Woods made its debut before my birthday, while Departures entered the world on Christmas Day. It is because holidays and special occasions were once a source of pain for me. I yearned for a reason to celebrate, so I made a conscious decision to release my books on these dates. This is something that I've never shared with the public until now.
Should I ever choose to release my old books' redefined counterparts, I'll strive to enhance them without losing respect for the journey they represent. More importantly, I hope you'll continue walking alongside me into the next part of my story. But if you choose a different path, I understand.
In the words of Anthony Burgess, “We can destroy what we have written, but we cannot unwrite it.” Wherever life takes us, reader, know that fragments of me will always reside within those pages that you once read. I'll forever cherish the moments we shared within those works, even as I've grown beyond their confines into someone the author I once was do not recognize anymore.
With Love,
Fransivan MacKenzie
A Few Chapters Back
Out of the Woods came into existence during the era of COVID-19. While you're already familiar with the backdrop of its creation, allow me to recount the ways in which this book has transformed my life. Out of the Woods was more than just a collection of prose and poetry for me—it was a lifeline. Just as in childhood, when the present world became too overwhelming, I sought refuge in crafting realities I felt safe in. As strange as it sounds, Out of the Woods was that.
My debut chapbook didn't soar as high as I envisioned it would when I was…well, a child. However, it provided the discipline and perseverance necessary for my personal and professional growth. More importantly, I got to experience the generosity of God, the love and support of the people around me, and I got to meet the strangers that this book brought to me. It is something that no amount of sales could top.
Out of the Woods showed me how possible it was to make a dream come true. Even more, it showed me that even though our dreams don't pan out the way we wish they would, it doesn't mean they are failures. Through this book, I gained unforeseen treasures—opportunities, friendships, and important lessons in marketing and branding.
I had a painful encounter with a friend last December when I was dumbfounded by all the words she said; so I simply replied, "It was really nice seeing you," before I walked away. I knew at that moment that it would be the last I would see of her, but I should've said, "It was really nice to take this journey with you for a time," because it was.
I would say the same words to you now, beloved. It was really nice journeying with you.
There are many reasons why Departures came into being precisely when it did, but one stands out above all: it was the year I began taking my antidepressants, and I was afraid of what was going on inside me. As a side-effect of my medication, I thought that my writing skills would slip out of me. Words didn't come as easily as they used to. My ideas were…broken and weird and so not me. Yet having a project like this with its routines, deadlines, and structure truly helped. It showed me, quite brutally, that I am a writer not because of my mental health challenges—I am a writer despite it.
A friend once likened Departures to evermore, the neglected offspring of my literary endeavors. (EVERMORE IS MY FAVORITE ALBUM DO NOT COME FOR ME OKAY?!) It's true that I don't champion this book as fervently as I do with Out of the Woods and i remember that it hurt. Often, it's because it's a disclosure of parts of myself I wasn't prepared to face, perhaps shared with the world prematurely. This book was too painful to write and painful to read—even for me.
Departures enjoyed a brief moment of ascension. Paradoxically, it's the work I hold dearest. I crafted it during a period of recovery from COVID-19, while prioritizing my mental well-being and grappling with profound personal losses. Once, I labeled much of my experiences as abandonment. Now, I'm beginning to realize they're simply facets of life. C'est la vie.
I am not the person that I used to be, and as I'm trying to make peace of that, I would appreciate reminders of my past works to be kept at a minimum. The past few years have been a relentless onslaught of loss—of loved ones, of relationships, of health, of financial stability, and more. I would like to believe that I could navigate the same path of life with a broken heart (tortured poets where u at) but I can't. Every reminder of this book hurts to see. I know that one day I'll pick this up and only see my strength between the lines—but I am not there yet.
For now, farewell.
What's Next?
I don't know. I really don't know. But I rest in the knowledge that even though I do not know where I am now or where I am going, I am confident in Christ that I am going to be taken care of. My career is something that I always believed I could control, but even that, I have surrendered completely to the Lord. Maybe for now, I'll simply focus on my education, my part-time job, and even teaching poetry in workshops. Maybe I'll just keep on writing in silence. I hope and pray to graduate in August. I hope to continue to impart positively to others. I hope to write again, to publish or self-publish, and apply all the branding and marketing things I learned (lol—this is something I've never been truly good at, but whatever). I know that I'm going to be okay. My life is far from what I wished it would be at twenty-two, but I'm still okay. I am held in the hands of the greatest Author of all time. My life is still beautiful.
You are one of the bravest people I know. Your courage in the face of adversity is truly inspiring. I understand that the road you have been on may have felt daunting and uncertain, but your resilience has guided you through. I wish you all the best.