A few folks have asked me to share how I came to write a book. My journey, as can always be expected, was not linear; it’s hard to pinpoint its true start.
Did I become a writer when I precociously dictated an Easter play to my mom and then produced, directed, and starred in my adaptation? OR, did I become a writer at 13 when I joined the Fanfiction community to write Harry Potter, Lost, and Titanic vignettes? OR, did I become a writer when I took creative writing courses during my study abroad year? OR, did I become a writer when I churned out jokes doing stand-up in Korea and Texas? OR, did I become a writer last March when I began working on my debut novel, The Geography of Wanting? OR, did I become a writer when I wrote ‘The End’ at the completion of my manuscript? Or, or, or, or, or, or…
Then the inner saboteur that lives in the deep recesses of my brain speaks to my insecurities and refutes those instances with thoughts like, “I won’t truly be an author until I’m published” or “I won’t truly be a writer until I earn my MFA in Creative Writing and Publishing”. But I try and shove that voice away as often as I can (essential for the writing process).
No matter where my origin story began or what my publishing future looks like, I can at least speak to where I am with my writing now. As I mentioned, last March I opened up my laptop and stared at the blinking cursor until I wrote my first line: ”I opened my eyes against my will, too heartbroken and hungover to want to exist another day.” Before the afternoon was over, I had an introduction to…well, I wasn’t quite sure yet. What started as an unfortunate trip down memory lane blossomed into a heartfelt, vulnerable, emotional, and most importantly, fictionalized version of who I once was.
Drawing heavily from my years studying and living abroad, I created ‘Jackie’, whose one fervent desire is to feel accepted. Her problem? Well, she has several including a deepening dependence on alcohol and a lackluster savings account, but her most demanding problem that she can’t recognize is her subconscious insistence that she can only be validated by others.
At first, I stuck closely to what I knew. Jackie, like I once did, studies abroad in Perugia, Italy. She travels to places I’ve been, and has adventures that contain faint echoes of my own. However, as the months passed, Jackie’s arc began to take on her own highs and lows, her own dramas and dreams.
I owe part of my newfound flexibility to Jackie’s story to my ‘Writing and Publishing’ graduate program at Emerson College, which I began this past fall. Suddenly, the eyes on Jackie and her story were unfamiliar ones to my own history, and I relished the feedback I received in writing workshops. Ultimately, my classmates helped me see Jackie not as a kind of extension of myself, but as a fully realized main character in her own right.
The day I finished my novel was anticlimactic. I am not sure if I expected confetti to fall from the ceiling of my home office, trumpets to blare from the condo parking lot, or even just a flood of ‘Congratulations!’ coming through via text on my phone. It was none of those things. My novel was quietly, cautiously, finished by doing what I had been doing all along: plugging away at the story.
I also have several pieces of exciting news to share. First, Emerson has made it possible for me to attend The Association of Writers and Writing Programs Annual Conference, held in Baltimore this year. I have submitted a query letter and the first five pages of my novel to a host of agents that will be attending the conference–if they like what they see they will set up a time for us to meet! Even if that opportunity does not come to fruition, the conference is going to be an incredible experience for me.
I will continue to edit and refine my novel, with the help of Dan Weaver, Editor in Residence at Emerson, and his editing class, who recently chose my novel to be at the heart of their work next semester. I am looking forward to the kind of in-depth feedback that has propelled other students from this course to publish at major publishing houses.
I would say I am not letting my dreams get away from me, but who am I kidding? I am still the five year old who believes they deserve a Tony for ‘The Easter Bunny Is Coming’. In my head, I daydream about making the NYT Bestseller list, being selected for Reese Witherspoon’s book club, and, of course, having my novel made into a movie. Conversely, on a bad day, I consider throwing the whole thing in the trash.
Regardless of what my novel’s future holds, I have come to realize that, perhaps, I have always been a writer after all.
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