For the past year I’ve been simmering a few different ideas for my next big novel project.  I’m learning that I do best when I let lots of ideas hang out in my head until eventually one steps forward and takes the lead.

Right before I had a baby last December, I went to my local bookstore Parnassus (such a gem, Nashville is so lucky to have this place) and bought a new Elizabeth I biography, Elizabeth: Renaissance Prince by Lisa Hilton.  I have written an Elizabeth I picture book biography, and I was interested to see Lisa Hilton’s focus on gender, imagery, and education.

A few weeks after Everett was born, I was mentally ready to read a book, so I started hanging out in his nursery with the space heater keeping it nice and toasty, and the noise machine whirring away, and reading while he slept.  I called it my warm cave of silence.

I adored the book.  Lisa Hilton writes with great style and her sentences would often knock me over, like this one: “How often in her childhood did Elizabeth hear the word bastard?” (Lisa Hilton 40).  I had to stop and read that one aloud just to let it sink in.  I really loved the way Hilton zoomed out frequently to consider the big ideas and larger context, and the way she approached each of the “characters” in Elizabeth’s life.

I realized then how much there was to Elizabeth’s life that I wanted to explore.  I bought Alison Weir’s The Six Wives of Henry VIII, The Children of Henry VIII, and The Life of Elizabeth I.  I started listening to podcasts while I pushed the baby in his stroller during maternity leave, in particular I was so happy to stumble onto The History Chicks.  They, and many others, mentioned David Starkey’s biography of Elizabeth.  So I ordered that.  Then I ordered the beautiful The Public and Private Worlds of Elizabeth I by Susan Watkins, so that I could see some images of the places and things in Elizabeth’s world.

I also realized that I needed to know more about the details of Katherine Parr’s life.  For that, I read the lovely biography by Linda Porter, Katherine the Queen: The Remarkable Life of Katherine Parr, the Last Wife of Henry VIII.  As someone who has fallen down a rabbit whole of Tudor and Elizabethan era bios, I have to say that this one was my favorite and I enjoyed Ms. Porter’s writing the best.  (If I ever met her, I think I’d be too starstruck to speak.)

I was now becoming quite the consumer of biographies of Elizabeth and those associated with her.

The most intriguing part was the differences I started to notice between the different biographies.  I started reading completely different interpretations of, say, a letter to Katherine Parr in 1544.  How could that be?

The logical next step was to read the primary sources and decide for myself.  So, I ordered The Collected Works of Elizabeth I and The Word of a Prince: A Life of Elizabeth I from Contemporary Documents.  In reading those, I started to wonder what the original manuscripts looked like.  Now I was searching out images of original manuscripts in Elizabeth’s own hand. There really is something special about seeing words that she herself put on paper.

I also started looking for the original state papers and privy council documents that I read snippets of in the various biographies I’d read.  What other parts of the letters and documents was each biographer leaving out?  Maybe there was something in those unquoted parts that would tell me something that I might find significant.  I’ve now learned how to use the British Library’s digital collection, and the British History Online‘s collection of state papers.  I really knew I’d hit the big time when I put in a special request to the British Library for digital images of some of the original manuscripts that weren’t available online–and I have to wait longer because the librarians need special permission to access those manuscripts.  Oh for a plane ticket to England and white gloves!  (Side note: I am still shocked that there are things that aren’t on the Internet.  I will tell you, there are things that aren’t on the Internet, including digital images of all of Elizabeth’s original letters.)

And then something funny happened as I researched.  I developed an opinion of my own.  Read one biography and you will presumably accept that biographer’s take on the subject.  Read a second, and you will notice the contradictions but feel somewhat flummoxed by it all.  By the time I was transcribing and translating 16th century primary sources and zooming in on JPEGs of manuscript photographs, I started to hear a new voice among all the clamor of biographers I’d read: my own.

This was a new experience for me, as far as researching a historical figure.

Through all this reading and research, I was outlining my story.  I put Elizabeth’s life up to her coronation into an outline.  After I did that, though, I realized that I was particularly drawn to her life from age 13 to 15, namely the Thomas Seymour incident.  Most people have never heard of this, and even most historians, unless this era is a focus, have not delved into these events.

When I realized this was becoming a focus, I got another biography, The Young Elizabeth by Alison Plowden which focuses in on Elizabeth’s younger years.  This was helpful as I really worked hard to make sure that I was right on all of my details.

As I was outlining these years of Elizabeth’s life, it just so happened that a teenage girl from my state made the national news when she was abducted by her 50-something high school teacher and a nationwide manhunt ensued.  I had an eerie feeling when I recognized the similarities between what was happening on the news and what Elizabeth went through at that age herself.

This Spring I had lots of conversations with students and colleagues about this project.  When I summarized the Katherine Parr/Thomas Seymour events when she was 14, it seemed to strike a chord.  Maybe I was on to something.

I returned to my outline and zoomed in on those two years, stripping everything else away.  And then I started waking up in the night with a sentence or two in my head that I’d quickly type into my outline.  I would have ideas at red lights that I would dictate into my phone.  I started to feel like a racehorse in the gate at the Derby, the ones who start getting restless before the gun goes off.  (Those are always the horses I cheer for.)

And when the school year ended, the gates opened and I started writing.

But what, exactly, was I writing?  If I said “historical fiction” people immediately mentioned Philippa Gregory.  No disrespect to Ms. Gregory (I love her books), but that didn’t feel like what I was trying to do.  I also couldn’t really say “Oh, I’m writing Hamilton, except not a hip hop musical,” because that’s like saying you think you’re the next Hemingway.  It makes you sound a big like a yahoo.

It came to my attention that a book was recently sold that was billed as a biographical novel. It was about a famous woman, but it focused on her teenage years.  I’ve done some more research and I’ve seen some other projects also categorized as biographical novels, and that feels like a good fit.

I could really get into a great discussion about the shifting line between non-fiction and fiction is.  Because here’s what I’ve learned this year: there isn’t one agreed upon Truth.  There’s discrepancy and different interpretations among the biographers.  So, isn’t there an element of choice and fiction in each of their biographies?

My other priority is my audience.  I’m writing for teenagers, and I know that from my experience as a teenager, and now teaching them every day, they don’t really love biographies as a genre.  There’s the occasional student who enjoys them, but she tends to be the exception.  But they also love Hamilton, because Hamilton made a founding father feel real, current, and relatable.  So, I’m not Lin-Manuel Miranda, but I’m trying to make Elizabeth I feel like that for teenagers.

So, I’m writing a multi-genre, modern vernacular biographical novel with primary sources woven throughout.  I am approaching this project the way I approach my teaching.  Next year I’m going to teach a series of units on Elizabeth I in my World Literature and AP Language and Composition classes.  The kinds of tasks I might assign are the kinds of things I’ve written in my book: make a playlist for a historical figure, write a short play that dramatizes an event described in a letter, write a scene where you imagine a scenario that answers a question we have no answer for in primary sources, transcribe a historical document and then translate it into today’s vernacular.  If it helps, I’d say both Hamilton and McSweeney’s are big influences.  I have lists and satirical FAQs.  Rather than a rap battle like Hamilton and Jefferson have, I’ve written a boxing match between Elizabeth and Sir Robert Tyrwhit.

I am so excited to bring this book into the world.  Stay tuned!

I’ve spent the past two months querying Improbable Girl.  It’s a pretty consuming task, but I’ve reached what may be a soft stopping point.  I’m waiting.  And everyone says as soon as you send out one, you should start the next one.

And it makes sense.  The sudden flurry of submissions and research and query revisions is over and I miss the daily activity.  I’m maybe not so good at calm and bored.

It hit me that it’s been 4 years since I wrote a first draft from page one and feeling uncertain and nervous.  I’m really confident about my editing and querying abilities since I’ve been doing that for a few months.  (Remind me of this in a year or so when I haven’t queried in a while, and I feel nervous it again.)  I’m trying to recognize the natural ebb and flow that comes with the writing process.  But right now, I’m intimidated by the task, just like I was the first time.  First dates always give you flutters.

So, here we go with book #2.  Or perhaps, book #2 and #3.  I’ve got two ideas I’m feeling really pumped about.  I’ve got both cooking and we’ll see what happens.  I might bounce from one to the other, but I might really catch the wind in my sails with one and let the other idea rest.  As I said in my Process Insecurity post, I’m trying to control less and let myself find my way more.  I’ll keep you posted!

Last year, I told a colleague I was working on a picture book manuscript.  She’s a writer (former journalist, communications director at my current job) and she suggested I join SCBWI (The Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators).  I joined and I signed up for the conference last fall.  I entered my manuscript in the picture book contest, but I was too scared to sign up for a face-to-face critique.

My first conference was amazing.  The learning curve was steep because I knew very little about writing picture books, the market, and querying.  I didn’t win anything in the manuscript contest, but I met my current critique partner who invited me into her writing group.

When I registered for this year’s conference, I entered a new manuscript in the picture book contest and I signed up for a critique.

It was nice to meet up with members of my writing group, and meet some new friends.  I went to amazing sessions–even better than last year!

Then, on Saturday, they announced the contest winners and I got Honorable Mention!

I told my friends at the conference that I was using this conference to decide if I needed to just bury this picture book manuscript and move on, or if there was some life left in it.  I’d spent last fall submitting it, and I got some complimentary rejections, but it didn’t go any further than that.

I was so happy to get that recognition in the contest.  I was starting to feel a little bummed about writing picture books.  I love writing them, but maybe it isn’t for me.  The market is competitive, and perhaps I needed to spend my energy elsewhere.  This re-lit the fire!

On Sunday morning of the conference, I had my face-to-face critique of the same manuscript with an editor.  I was so nervous.  I’d had critique partners and writing groups, but never any industry feedback like this.

It was amazing.  Not because she told me the book was fabulous and flawless and she was going to publish it tomorrow (that’s what we all secretly daydream about), but that it wasn’t perfect, but had some elements that were strong.  She had criticism that I thought was spot on, and some ideas for how to improve the manuscript.  What most encouraged me was that she said I was good at humor, and I should keep going with being funny.  It’s every kid-sister extrovert’s dream to be told that.  She also liked a 4th wall breaking moment in the manuscript and told me to do it more throughout the story.

The editor also told me that she didn’t love my premise.  That may sound like it was a blow, but honestly, it was somewhat liberating.  When I allowed myself to consider changing the premise, I saw how I could fix the other problems that she pointed out.  It was exciting to consider the possibilities of keeping the character and dropping the premise.  At the end, the editor said she was so glad I was willing to consider a change like that.  It reminded me that flexibility is so key and not always common.  Being gracious and flexible are some excellent qualities in both writers and students.  I love it when I make a big suggestion like that to a student and she takes it in stride.  It’s only right that I model that behavior.

One of my query rejections for that manuscript said that I had “more to discover.”  I’ve spent a year wondering what that meant–until now!  Between my critique, and a workshop on character development with the same editor, I understood.  The cow was flat and undeveloped.

[Side note: Until you try to write a picture book, you’ll think it’s nuts that you spend as much time developing those characters as you might spend on a novel.  But really, you can and you should.  You only have 500 words, so you better know that character deep down and be ready to make them come alive in as few words as possible.  You don’t have 10,000 words to “find” the character.  They need to exist in every word on every page.  Mind blown, right?]

I went home after the conference bursting with ideas.  In fact, I woke up in the middle of the night Sunday morning with a non-fiction picture book idea that incorporated some humor.  Sunday afternoon after the conference, while my youngest napped, I worked on a rewrite of The Cow Steals the Show and a first draft of my new idea.

Here’s what I think I’m learning about myself.  I’ve got humor, I’ve got plot and premise.  My characters have voice, but it’s not enough.  I’m not sure yet if this applies to my novel, but I think it’s true for my picture books.

Letting other people read what you’ve written is scary.  Like public nudity scary.  Perhaps like public nudity, the fear wears off after repeated experiences.

My first sharing experiences were with two writing groups, one that is no more and one that’s current.  They gave great feedback, but it was often on 5-10 pages and not the whole work.  This summer, though, my husband finally read the book, and he was the first person to read the whole thing in its entirety.  You often read about writers sharing every stage with their spouse, like a built in critique partner.  That’s not been my experience, at least for the past few years.  At first I wasn’t ready, then my husband resisted.  What if, he worried, I don’t really like it?  It could be that it just wasn’t for him, but he knew that would still hurt me.  And if my husband is one thing, he’s honest.  Which means that if he tells you that you look good in sweatpants, gosh darnit you look awesome in sweatpants.

But since I was rounding the bases and getting ready to query, he took it with him on a work trip and read it.

He liked it!  I’ve never been so relieved.  In fact, he wrote this on one of the pages and I jumped out of my chair for a victory dance.

After that, I sent it to a high school friend who lives in Texas.  Then a college friend in DC.  Then a current work friend read it.  Then my mother-in-law read it.  Then I made a Twitter friend who offered to give my query letter a read.  She wrote back with feedback and ideas for improvement.

Here’s what I’ve learned, boiled down as best I can:

1.  Your mother (or mother-in-law) has to by law and biology say nice things.  Still, it’s nice to hear and I’ll take what I can get.
2. Apparently some readers may really dislike something about your book that others love, or at least didn’t mind.  It’s bewildering and can make you question your existence.
3. However, if the reader was definitely on to something, you’ll get a pang in your stomach and you’ll know that you also had that thought.   They might point out an odd word choice on the opening page, and you realize right away you also questioned the choice.  This is helping me to trust my gut instincts when editing.
4. Sometimes the reaction makes you realize you need to clarify something.  In my Twitter friend’s response to my query, it suddenly became clear that I was not making a plot point clear.  I rewrote and hopefully the confusion will be gone.
5. Sometimes the feedback or suggestions make you realize what you will not compromise on, and what, for you, is essential to your book.  My first writing group really liked one of my POV narrators and didn’t love the other.  Consider just narrating the book from one POV?  That was definitely a no for me.  But, it made me realize that to keep the other POV, it needed some work.  (Which it got in draft 3.)
6. Every piece of feedback I read that has no emotion, my brain adds hatred and disgust to.  I’m a generally confident and positive person, but it’s so hard!  I keep wondering, Does that mean you hate it?  As Erykah Badu says, “Keep in mind I’m a artist, and I’m sensitive about my s***.”

Writing the book was hard.  Editing was harder.  Sharing it with the world has to be the hardest.

My query count is up to 56 since 7/11/16.  I’m teaching a week-long day camp next week, so I’ll probably slow down considerably.  I’ve had one request for a partial (first 50 pages) and that was from a query letter alone.  I’m taking that as an encouraging sign.