My second book is out on submission to editors as of this week! We haven’t given up on my first book—but the next was ready to go, and there are different editors for adult and YA books, so there weren’t any issues of overlap, and we went for it.
My first book (The Moths) came out of me relatively easily. I knew exactly how it would end from the moment I started writing, including the major plot and character arcs. I wrote it over 2-3 months, edited it and queried it. Then I got an R+R and made a big round of revisions (adding over 20,000 words). When I signed with Jon, we did a small further round of revisions, and it was ready to go.
My second book came out of me far less easily. I drafted it very quickly initially, in about 6 weeks, though that draft was… a little chaotic. Then I edited it. Then I sent it to Jon, and we agreed to what was basically a total rewrite, which took me all summer. Then we did another big round of revisions. And then another! It’s taken almost a year from start to finish, and is pretty much unrecognisable from the first draft I wrote. It’s also much, much better for this process, and I am so grateful to Jon for dragging this novel out of me, even when at times I was reluctant.
A large part of my reluctance stemmed from my protagonist. Pia initially existed in the very first book I wrote, which can never see the light of day. I don’t say I created the character, because it doesn’t feel like I did. It feels like she is real, and I am a mere vessel to tell her story. So when Jon suggested some changes to her character’s actions, my initial reaction was: Pia wouldn’t do that!
After a call with Jon about our 4th draft, I wrote the following note:
We need to break Pia open a bit. If not confiding to other characters, at least the reader needs to know more
My initial Pia was extremely closed off. But Jon was right—this trait doesn’t really work for a first person protagonist. We need to know how she feels. Which means she needs to tell us. Jon expressed this perfectly in an email
The day after receiving this email, I began a course of CBT, for a whole host of reasons. In one session, I brought up how sometimes I wish my friends understood my depression and disabilities more. And my therapist asked me a question I had honestly never considered: ‘How can your friends know how you feel?’
To me, how I feel is obvious, because I can feel it. But others might not be able to read me so well. In fact, I’m often told I’m extremely hard to read, despite my best efforts. So if I’m not telling people explicitly, they might miss things.
As my course of CBT ran parallel to my editing process, I was horrified to find that the things my therapist said about me were almost identical to the things my agent was saying about Pia.1 It is obviously upsetting to realise that you have essentially been writing a self-insert without even realising it. But the good news is: the solutions are one and the same. In my therapy notebook I wrote down the following note:
talking about things makes you emotionally connected
How I feel at a given moment is obvious to me because I am me. How Pia feels at a given moment is obvious to me and Pia, because Pia is Pia, and also because (as much as she feels real to me) she lives in my mind. But it’s not going to be nearly so obvious to others unless we tell them2, and we have to tell them to build an emotional connection. It is good to build an emotional connection with your readers, just as it is good to build an emotional connection with your friends.
So I made the edits. I let Pia open up, and the book is so much better for it. At the same time, I’m trying to open up to my friends more, even if it is scary.
All that is to say: book 2 is out on submission! I think it is really good, and I’m optimistic about it. I’m also optimistic about my friendships, and glad that I have people around me who want to support me, so long as I don’t hold myself back from them.
