My weather app tells me it “feels like -25 degrees Celsius1” today. Outside my window, deceiving beams of syrupy morning sunlight slice through the blanket of snow in protest. A bright and enticing winter scene caught in the middle of a polar vortex. “It’s giving January,” as my thirteen-year-old would say.
Other things that are “giving January”:
My nine-year-old being home sick for the second day in a row. (Also the reason I don’t have a voiceover this time, as she’s currently going back and forth between belting Bohemian Rhapsody and Defying Gravity in the background.)
The sheer amount of hot beverages being consumed and candles being burned in my home at any given moment.
The constant push and pull between the new healthy and efficient daily routine I am desperate to implement and my body’s refusal to come out of post-holiday hibernation.
The weird malaise of coming up with New Year’s goals while the state of the world feels extra dystopian.
My birthday (tomorrow, actually) filling me with gratitude for the privilege of aging, while also reminding me that time waits for no one.
Speaking of the unrelenting passage of time (is that a good transition?), this month finds me at a crossroad with my writing projects.
With my second book all but shelved (save for a couple remaining manuscript submissions), my third book (which is actually a re-imagined, distant relative of my first book) ready to query and a fourth book I’m excited to finally start drafting, I feel like my colour-coded emotions are fighting over the console in my brain. (Inside Out reference, anyone?)
On the one hand, I’m coming to terms with potentially moving on from a story I put a lot of work into and really loved writing (which earned me the esteemed distinction of having made readers cry), while the excitement I feel over my yet-unwritten book is of the “wake up in the middle of the night with a brilliant idea” variety.
But it’s my third book that’s really taking my emotions for ride, swiping its sweaty palm across every button on the console, zapping me between worry, pride, frustration and hope in the span of a single minute. (Is this Inside Out reference still working?)
I wrote about what this book, affectionately referred to as my “leaving religion novel,” means to me, and why I chose to rewrite it, in this Substack post from last year.
I’m proud of the writing and the nuanced exploration of an emotionally charged subject, and I wholeheartedly believe we need more stories (or you know, at least some stories) that represent the increasingly relatable experience of leaving religion2.
But I know it’s a tough premise for a risk-averse industry, and I worry that, after investing so much of my heart and time (years!), this book may not find its place in the current market. As I compile a shiny new query package and consider my beta-read and thoroughly revised manuscript, I can’t help but feel like I am all dressed up with nowhere to go.
I am still going to query this book, because I owe it to myself to try, and because—honestly?—I feel like a story about leaving a religion and starting over after a life of indoctrination is more timely now than ever. Maybe it will resonate with the right agent and go on to find a home with an editor as passionate about the story as I am. That would be, as they say, the dream. Either way, I’m going to continue sharing about my own experience here on Substack, because so many of you have reached out to let me know that these stories matter to you, too.
In the meantime, it’s time to pivot to the next story that won’t let me go. While I still plan to dig into some deeper topics, my fourth novel will probably be my least divisive, most market-compatible book so far (my first three novels really knocked it out of the park with “leaving religion” and “medically assisted death” as driving themes). Book four will draw heavily from my experience as both a wedding photographer and a Very Anxious Person™️, and it’s the first time I’ve ever had clear comps going into the drafting process. (The Wedding People x People We Meet On Vacation).
One of these days, my dolled-up manuscript(s) will have somewhere exciting to go. Until then, the only way forward is to keep writing.
CURRENT OBSESSIONS:
TELEVISION: I’m re-watching Schitt’s Creek with my thirteen-year-old and it’s been such a delight to immerse myself in that world again, this time with my kiddo. Now, when I crack a joke about folding in the cheese, or when I tell her that I “love that journey for her,” she can laugh along. It’s also great for a little healthy disassociating, in case you’re feeling the need for that right now.
FOOD: Two recipes I’ve completely fallen for recently:
Carrot Cake Cookies (it’s a vegan recipe, but you can just use real egg/dairy if you want to) One night, I wanted to make cookies for school lunches but was craving carrot cake, and was overjoyed to find that this recipe not only existed, but DELIVERED. So, so good.
Chicken Shawarma Crispy Rice Salad (I made it vegan by using tofu instead and swapping ou
t the dairy) I generally hate everything about social media algorithms, but I will say, the recipe content I’m being served lately is top notch. This (slightly modified) salad checks all the boxes for me, and I’ve made it twice in two weeks!
-11.2 Fahrenheit. Really cold! Though, to be honest, not nearly as cold as elsewhere in the province/country right now.
Articles about leaving religion: ABC Article, NYT Article, WP Article
Also--Ontario weather is a perpetual PR crisis
I think any writer reading this will find so much to relate to when it comes to all the questions we ask ourselves.... Is my book too risky? Is it not risky enough? Am I managing a healthy dread/hope ratio right now? There are no easy answers in this biz, but you are one hell of a writer and go-getter, and I can't wait to read whatever you come up with next. (PS-Love this essay title, too!)