A Personal Update

I'm doing a thing that's sad, and hard, and perfect.

Hiya, friends.

Whew… things have been a swirl. You know those months where appliances suddenly fail, dogs suddenly need surgery, and you find yourself getting an MRI for an old injury that just won’t heal?

It’s been one of those months.

Plus, we’re still dragging treetops, lopped off by hurricane Helene, out of the woods to be cut down and taken to the verge for pick-up. Repairs are— finally— being done on our home. All this against the backdrop of a nation in utter chaos and upheaval (I pay attention to these things; I realize that isn’t universally popular with my readers, but I believe we live our lives as part of larger ecosystems which become healthier when we acknowledge and participate in them).

So, all that said, it’s been a lot.

In the midst of this whirlwind, I’ve realized that I need to put down stressors (where I can) and pursue pleasure (where I can). This realization has led to two big decisions (actually three, but I’m not allowed to discuss the third yet!):

1- I’m starting a new Substack. Don’t worry, Something True isn’t going anywhere! But Something True tends toward serious and I need some jovial. I need a little snark. I need to explore new things.

So my dear friend, writing buddy, and fellow memoirist

Steph Jagger

and I decided to learn to write novels. You know, for fun. And, also, as an excuse for a weekly catch-up about the raging midlife vortex tossing both our lives into disarray. Our calls have been hilarious and fortifying. Which made us think that you might need a little levity. So, over the weekend, we’re launching:

How to Write a Novel, with Steph Jagger & Maia Toll

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Think Thelma and Louise learn to write a book.

If you’re a reader, a writer, a creator who’s learning something new, or just a human going through a big life transition and needing to know you’re not alone, join us. Look for your invitation and introduction this weekend.

2- I’ve been hesitant to make this public because I’m still digesting it myself. But it came up when Steph and I recorded a video about the inception of How to Write Novel, so it seems like the time has come to share:

Andrew and I have decided to sell our gorgeous, perfect, oh-my-goddess-how-did-we-land-here dream home. My eyes are tearing up as I type. It’s hard. And it’s perfect. And it’s time.

I’m a big believer in reinvention and I need one right now. This spectacular space is part of a dream that didn’t quite coalesce: it was bought to be, not just our home, but also a retreat center, a place where people would gather to write and share ideas. But four months after we moved in, Covid hit. Then I developed a vertigo condition that stole a year. Then, in September, just as we were getting back on track, hurricane Helene roared through.

I’m kind of trauma bonded with this house. It’s been my sanctuary and refuge through a global pandemic, a personal health crisis, and a natural disaster. The rhododendron groves were my solace during Covid. The well gave me clean water when the rest of Asheville had nothing (the Asheville water system went down in the storm). This house is so ridiculously comfortable and comforting that, some weeks, I barely leave. Why should I? There’s the herb garden and labyrinth, woodland trails and wood stoves, walls made of glass, and gorgeous, red birch built-ins loaded with my favorite books. I sip tea and watch the light change on the mountainside and scheme how to get Andrew to do the food shopping so I don’t have to go out. I’m becoming a weird hermit.

My dad said to me the other day, “I really thought this was your forever home.” So did I. I don’t know that I will ever again have such a well-thought-out, nurturing, sunlit space or that there will ever be 20 acres of woodland that are mine to roam. It’s a bit of paradise….

But while the house itself is both haven and heaven, I need to break the patterns I’ve formed living through so many crises here, especially the constant sense that the world is unsafe and I must hunker down and protect myself and Andrew.

I know, I know: take a class, Maia! Go out with friends. There’s no reason to make such a radical shift.

The word radical comes from the word radix which means root and I feel, deep in my gut, that I do need to make a radical shift, I need to uproot myself in order to get a fresh perspective and find a new dream.

And I know it’s the right choice because I actually get excited when I think about someone bringing fresh, expansive energy to this space. The house deserves their joy and brightness.

So 2025 is a year of huge change. I’ve picked up Letting Magic In a couple of times to remind myself that I’ve done this well and beautifully (many times) before… and my intuition always knows when it’s time to step into the chrysalis and allow my life to be transformed.

Now I’m going to make a cup of tea to soothe my over-sharing hangover. I’ll see you over the weekend (literally— there’s a video!). The email will come from “Steph & Maia.”

Til then—
xx Maia

Allow Letting Magic In to be your invitation to rediscover wonder, deepen your connection to the world around you, and awaken the magic that’s already within—grab your copy today and begin your own journey of becoming!