Got a new book deal last week. It's equal parts running and history, which is all I can say right now. This is the first time in my career I've combined my two passions. I'm very excited. As I've traveled deeper into my career, I'm happy to be taking on projects that really test my creativity and storytelling. This is one of those books. Frankly, I thought Taking Paris was a challenge. Then Berlin and London. Taking Midway was so over-the-top demanding there were days I would sit here at the writing desk and wonder how in the world I was going to pull all the disparate threads together. I'm really excited to share it with all of you when it hits stores in May.
Until then, I will be writing the new book. I'll start the first of the year. It's always good to have a significant date for the start and the deadline. They loom just a little taller. I used to always shoot for a Valentine's Day completion date, if only because that's the anniversary of Captain Cook's death and seems historically significant. But that's not on the agenda for 2025. It used to be that I could write books in forty days (Survivor, Knockdown, Chasing Lance) but I'm not up for that anymore. I think it's actually dangerous to one's health to live on a six-week cocktail of work, adrenaline, and cortisol.
Usually, the first person I tell when I get a new book contract is Calene. We celebrate. Maybe go out to dinner. And so it was this week. I took the call from my agent, agreed to the terms, then leaned over to tell Callie.
Only she couldn't hear me. The ICU nurse heard me. My sister-in-law Cate heard me.
But Callie had another deep internal bleed of unknown origins this week. Another 911 call. Another ambulance ride. Another ER code. She was sedated and deep asleep from Monday until Saturday. I told her again about the book deal yesterday. This time she gave me a nice smile.
I can't explain accurately how all this feels. On the one hand, the feeling of content that comes with knowing I'm about to tackle a storytelling challenge. It's one of the most fulfilling sensations I know, which is why I'm writing this blog on a morning when I would rather not. I've wandered around in a fog the past two months as we've gone through four near-death experiences.
Last night I realized I needed to do something other than stare at the wall. So I worked out this morning with my trainer, went for a short run, and now write in the same sweaty hoodie and running shorts I wore on the trail. It's been eight weeks of takeout pizza, a small army of friends that check in to make sure my morale is stable, and answering texts about Calene's status. I go to bed crazy early, sleep ten hours, and wake up exhausted. I have hard conversations with my sons. I remind myself that my wife is one of the toughest people on this earth and that she will one day be back at full strength, so I'd better keep myself fit and ready for that moment.
Our first Christmas was 1986. She gave me a watch and a small handwritten document which she framed, and I still keep on my desk. It's a few lines from 2 Corinthians:
"We are pressed on every side by troubles, but not troubled and broken. We are perplexed because we don't know why things happen as they do. But we don't give up and quit. We fix our eyes not on what is seen, but is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."
All these years later, those words still speak to me. We've all got something going on in our lives, even during the holiday season. Whatever is going on with you and yours, please accept love and warm greetings from the Dugard family.