We were lucky to catch up with Zelly Ruskin recently and have shared our conversation below.
Zelly, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today Can you talk to us about a project that’s meant a lot to you?
Creativity sought me out. An innate trait. Whether painting, sketching, or viewing the world in a unique way, it brought satisfaction. Learning to paint with words, creating an entire story, letting strangers read it was a surprising turn. Yet the expression in the written word, the freedom to sculpt characters and determine outcomes and the mix of personal experience sprinkled in, is hands down the most meaningful project I’ve ever worked on.
Becoming an author was the last thing I could have imagined when I began my journey into adulthood. My intention was always to be a child therapist. Then, with a BS in psychology, and a master’s degree in social work, I pivoted and accepted an offer to work in infant adoption.
I loved my job. I got to know the couples who’d been through so much but whose hearts remained open and eager to welcome a non-biological member to their families. It was intoxicating to be the one to call them, after way too long a wait, to let them know their baby had arrived. And it was especially gratifying to advocate for birth mothers who were too often shocked to learn they had rights.
Those of us working in adoption all those years ago thought we were very progressive in our viewpoints and policies. In retrospect, there was so much we didn’t know. I had some powerful discussions with adult adoptees who exposed me to more contemporary perceptions of adoption and the aim to shift focus onto the babies’ earliest biopsychosocial experience. I haven’t worked in the field for many years, yet the fight for legislation to give a voice to adoptees, to do more to educate prospective adoptive parents, and to improve the rights and support of biological mothers continues. In researching my book, it was surprising to find many adoption laws nearly unchanged from the late ‘80s; waiting to adopt is just as strenuous; and it’s still difficult to access records or connect with birth parents despite the internet’s bandwidth.
My novel is a work of fiction that relies on my personal experiences and the tremendous and lasting impact of my time in the field. In real life, I was an adoption consultant. My youngest client was 13 years old; the oldest was a single mother who couldn’t afford to feed another; and there were some birth fathers involved in the decisions.
Also, in real life, after I left my job, I learned I too had fertility issues. Gratefully, I responded to minimal treatment and, in-between some miscarriages and high-risk pregnancies, I raised two amazing (now adult) children.
I’m often asked for advice when people hear I once worked in adoption. Too much time has passed for me to answer adequately. But I am certain of this: for adoptive couples, birth parents, and adoptees, the process still requires strength, courage, and heart.
When writing <i>Not Yours to Keep</i>, one goal was to entertain and educate people about adoption. But what made this journey the most impactful was the readers. An unexpected number have reached out and shared their moving and personal adoption stories. To know my art has touched people, has given their voice a vehicle or a bit of hope—what could be more meaningful than that?
Zelly, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?
In my first career, I was a social worker in the adoption and foster care field. From there, I owned an online retail store specializing in hand-painted children’s gifts and party favors. Along the way, I volunteered and raised funds for several non-profit organizations. Once I moved to New York City, I gave in to the compulsion to write women’s fiction spiced with suspense about motherhood, relationships, loss and love. My award-winning debut novel, <i>Not Yours to Keep</i>, came out October 2024 with She Writes Press. My next novel should be out in 2026.
When I’m not devising twisty plots, I love traveling, hiking, and am passionate about and volunteer for Brain Aneurysm Awareness. To find out more about that and my upcoming books and events, follow my newsletter, Sometimes Snarkastic. That title alone sums me up.
Can you share a story from your journey that illustrates your resilience?
As a not-yet-aspiring author, my writing journey began when my life was, let’s say, “at a crossroads.” I took pen to paper to express my feelings and gain clarity on how I’d ended up there. The growing pile of illegible pages scattered around me developed the foundation for how to regain my power.
I titled the story “Retrospect” and, while farfetched to think it would get accepted, submitted it to a writing workshop. The goal wasn’t to publish, it was to finish something. I was in a take risks phase of life and the workshop instructor took a chance on me. It was there I learned how to be a writer. After many years, I finished the story, and then she died a respectable death. Her tombstone reads “a brilliant character study.” It freed me to plant the seed for the commercial novel I wanted to write—<i>Not Yours to Keep</i>.
Before I could type the “once upon a time,” doctors found a teeny-tiny-too small-to-worry-about aneurysm in my brain. That’ll throw you off course for a while. And it did. I let almost a year slip by before refocusing and getting excited about starting the new manuscript. The aneurysm had other ideas. It grew.
Besides size, the aneurysm shape is significant. A smooth balloon appearance is a better scenario than a malformed one. The only way to know what mine looked like was to have an angiogram—as soon as possible. I was probably in some understandable state of shock and denial, or maybe I’m a lunatic with skewed priorities, but I was in the middle of a fabulous twelve-week complete your novel workshop, and lest I died, or lived but wasn’t myself, I refused to have the angiogram before my book was done.
In October 2018, I underwent successful surgery to treat the unruptured aneurysm. The first phase of recovery was full of risks, sensitivity to light and sound and balance issues. Too much brain overload actually hurt the brain. But the itch to edit my book was too great to ignore. I peeked at my computer and the universe crashed it, taking my latest greatest draft with it.
It takes a body about a year to fully recover. On the outside, it seemed like nothing had happened to me physically, and each month brought greater strength. By the six-month mark, I’d learned how much writing time in a sitting my brain could handle. By the end of a year, the manuscript was complete. Eager for feedback, I sent it off to developmental editors and beta readers. That was around the time a weird new thing became a word—Covid. It created quite the setback, as no one had the energy or interest for edits or input. I had to get creative and find new ways and new networks to get it done, but it happened.
Is it resiliency or stubbornness that pushed my journey to success? Maybe both. Either way, I drew on the strength I’d gained from each obstacle, and ultimately persevered. And now, I can say, I’m a published author.
How did you build your audience on social media?
I wouldn’t say I have built a huge audience on social media. In fact, other than wishing friend’s happy birthday, I shied away from posting much at all. Then I got on the publishing track and a social presence became essential. Whenever I attended a writer’s conference or workshop, I friended or followed the other participants. We were all in the same boat, so usually they’d do the same for me. I try to post frequently now, and I do my best to engage with other’s posts and follow back often. My network organically grew once my book came out. I’ve been fortunate to have found a warm and supportive community in this career.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://zellyruskin.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zellyruskin/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ZellyRuskinAuthor/
- Other: https://zellyruskin.substack.com/