Where I'm At With Writing

Each time I make a post like this I feel like I've only just done one. Recently I've been torn up over what my purpose in life is. I'm watching my sister be successful, plan a future family; she'll graduate university. I'm watching my friends plan good futures in current jobs or using impending degrees. As I'm currently not working nor in education, my mind constantly begs the question. What is going on in my life? What's my purpose? What mark do I want to make?

My best friend reminded me the other day that I don't sit at my laptop for hours a day, writing line after line, chapter after chapter, forming manuscripts, to wonder what my purpose is. Writing, I think, is my purpose. Whilst I have some technicality issues, I'm a good writer. In this current age of society, there's so much pressure on going out to work 40+ hours a week, maintaining a thriving social life as well as family life. That's the norm. Not for me. I thought it was. For a while it started to be.

I might not go to work for 40+ hours a week but I sit at my desk and I write for potentially more hours. I work towards each book goal, setting my own checkpoints. My purpose is to write books that will change people. My purpose is to create stories that make people feel more seen, a little less alone, to accept who they are no matter the fights they go through.

So where am I at with writing?

A few months ago, I didn't shut up about self-publishing. I talked about a book called SAVING PAIGES. I got a book cover draft, hired an editor, wrote like hell, and submitted the manuscript. I chose this because I needed something to happen for me in my life in the direction of my dream career. I wanted a book out in the world, no matter the means. I was naive, though. I largely underestimated how much work would be required to self-publish. After that first submission, I rewrote SAVING PAIGES, then I completely scrapped that storyline, came up with something new and called it WHO WE ARE. That also had to be tweaked. In January, I went to Ambleside, the home town of my main character in WHO WE ARE. I explored, I laughed, I felt peaceful. I found a new angle to tell the story from.

In February, on a whim, I queried an agent with another story. For the first time in five years of querying with different manuscripts, I got a full manuscript request. Except I hadn't expected anything to come of my querying--wrong. I wrote a 56,000 word story in two weeks, then edited, then submitted. Now, in April, after working on yet another manuscript, I think I'm ready to return to WHO WE ARE.

For me, each manuscript comes from a different headspace. WHO WE ARE was born from a bad headspace in regards to an old friend, then expanded into a healthier headspace. The story I submitted to the agent mentioned above came from another headspace. Trying to switch back is hard. It takes work; it means accepting going back into the past to reclaim where I was at that point, remembering why I wanted to write that particular story at that particular time. I'm not completely closing myself off to self-publishing; I want all the opportunities I can get. Traditional publishing is a hard industry to break into. You never know what agents specifically want; the market constantly changes, switching to appease a constantly-changing society. I'm still considering every angle but sometimes it comes down to this: after the past few months I've realised a lot of support isn't there where I thought it would be. People are quick to offer support when they don't have to do anything. When it involves them needing to pay money to buy my future book to give me that support, they disappear. It makes me feel audacious to even ask anyone to buy any book I may have in the future because when I've needed support these past few weeks/months, my friends are sparse.

I don't know where I'll go from here but I'll keep writing, keep believing, keep hoping that one day I'll have my own book in my hands.

What is Christmas Worth? (A Christmas Short).

Alex woke to a blur of colour, flashing lights, and something scratchy on his face. For a second, he stared outward, letting his eyes adjust. He remained lying down, letting the cold seep into his skin where his pyjama top had ridden up in sleep.

And then it came.

Squealing and shouting, light bickering downstairs already, the sound of greetings. He closed his eyes, taking it all in, and smiled to himself. Then his eyes flew open, registering the difference in his room.

The lights, the scratchiness—turning out to be tinsel, he found, as he sat upright—hadn’t been there yesterday evening when he’d left the house. His bedroom flew open and a young girl with red bows already in her long black hair, dressed in a pale blue nightgown, darted in.

“Alex!” she cried, rushing around his room before he reached out to stop her, grinning. “Do you like it?”

By it, he knew she meant the decoration. He’d been out late visiting friends the night before and his habit of stumbling to his bed in the dark had long set. He hadn’t noticed it then. But now… The little decorated fibre-optic tree—the baubles and tinsel pink—with an angel at the top; the fairy lights running the perimeter of his ceiling; the extra garlands of tinsel draped over every surface she had found.

Sliding out of bed, Alex leaned down and scooped his sister, Rose, in his arms. At only the age of five, she still possessed the magic of Christmas. She still had years yet until all of it died out. For now, that fire of belief blazed brightly. For now, she maintained her part of the Tesley Christmas routine.

“Are Mum and Dad arguing again?” he asked her, sighing dramatically, emphasising his words. “Again?”

Eyes downcast, Rose nodded. She didn’t know it wasn’t a real argument; it had no fire or anger behind it. His parents had come from very different Christmas traditions and despite spending many together now, they still hadn’t found harmony. Rose didn’t know it was only over whether the dinner should be prepped now, or if presents for three children was the first priority.

Alex set Rose down, patting her shoulder. “Go cheer them up, okay? I think everyone could do with a bit of your joy.”

She grinned up at him, one of her teeth missing. She hadn’t put it under her pillow yet; she hadn’t wanted to overshadow Santa by inviting the Tooth Fairy. Her tooth was in a jar, safely waiting for the festive season to be over, before she slipped it beneath her pillow. Watching her bound down the stairs, Alex smiled at the heaps of joy and happiness still living in his little sister. Once her squeals entered the kitchen and he heard the bicker break off, Alex turned towards his other sister.

Triss stood in her own doorway, a bemused smile on her face. “I helped her decorate my room, Al. I helped her. Have you seen it? My room looks like Santa’s goddamn grotto.”

“That’s love, Triss. She loves you the most,” Alex couldn’t help but answer with a smile.

“Oh, really? She spent the entire time talking about all her new ideas for your room.”

Plucking a line of pink tinsel from the inside of his shirt, Alex grimaced. “Maybe I get some extra big brother love.”

Triss laughed quietly and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him down to the calls of Rose. She screamed about Santa, and look, Triss! He came for you even though you’re old!

Alex nudged Triss, laughing. “Old,” he said.

“Shut up,” she countered, shoving him into the kitchen whilst she sauntered into the living room. Indeed, when he poked his head to see, a pile of presents for Rose, the little girl sat right in the middle of the mound with a grin on her face.

And because he was nineteen and could ask these sorts of things, he looked to his mum—already in her work uniform—and said, “Seriously?”

A blush spread over her cheeks as she shifted under his question. “Santa needed to come through this year.”

Then a curse cut through the kitchen and Alex looked at his dad, already in a three-piece suit, as he always attempted to maintain on Christmas Day. The suit never lasted more than an hour.

This was the Tesley Christmas, as Alex had known it for the past few years: his dad, always spilling coffee on his tie, complaining about changing, but always coming down in the pyjamas Rose left for him on the bed. The crafty little girl had caught on, waited for the bickering to start, and then snuck into their parents’ room to provide a change of clothes. His mum, working early, coming home mid-afternoon, and falling into the pace of the day like she hadn’t missed all the present-opening. Triss, always on her phone to wish her many friends and followers a Merry Christmas. Alex himself, who fretted over Christmas and what he’d bought for his sisters, comparing the gifts he’d bought to everyone else’s. And then Rose, the most unburdened of them all. All she ever complained about was ripping wrapping paper even when their dad encouraged her to tear it all off. That was part of the excitement.

Still, Alex knew things had been different this year. His mum hadn’t had her usual full-time hours; his dad had picked up overtime far beyond humane levels, so the presents not only for Rose but set out for Alex and Triss was a wonder.

A stab of guilt hit him, unbidden and recurring each year.

“Alex,” his mum said, a warning in her voice. “Don’t.”

Don’t worry over money? Now that he was old enough to be more aware? Don’t feel guilty? Don’t feel bad for not being able to give better gifts because he earned a low wage? Don’t, don’t, don’t.

A hand on his shoulder cut his thoughts off. The smell of coffee and cologne swirled together as Alex looked up at his dad. They resembled each other the most, and he found comfort in that, somehow.

“Let’s go see what monstrosities Rose got me to wear this year, shall we?” His dad said, ever the lifeline. His dad, always there to diffuse his mum’s worry-brain, the only thing Alex had inherited from her. Before his dad pulled him from the kitchen, he turned to his mum.

“What time are you leaving?”

Her own brand of guilt flashed across her face. “I’ve set aside particular gifts each for you all to open that I want to see,” she said. “Then I’ll leave.”

Alex looked over her uniform, hating that she couldn’t decline a Christmas Day shift. Yet after the money vacuum Christmas was, she would need all the pay she could get. Alex hated this part of Christmas: the part that came with each year of growing up. Each year giving him more awareness of the behind-the-scenes of Christmas Day.

Still, one look at his sister’s joyful face, that dark cloud broke. He couldn’t help but be brought into her happy orbit.

His dad pulled him along. “So do we think it’s pale blue fluffy pyjamas again, with little clouds on, or do you think she’s gone for a more considerate approach of plaid patterns?”

   

“It’s Rose,” Alex scoffed, “Of course they’re pale blue and fluffy.”

*

In the end, Rose’s three presents set out was a massive unicorn stuffed toy, a Minnie Mouse mirror-and-table set, and a new hairstyling doll.

Triss opened a new planner with so many sections she spent ten minutes going through it all, money for driving lessons, and a new scarf.

And Alex’s was—

He tore off the wrapping paper, stared down at the gift in his lap before looking at his mum. He knew time was tight and she had to go as soon as possible but he couldn’t tell himself to stop. His fingers were numb, holding the piece of paper. Tears shined in his mum’s eyes as his dad looked on with pride.

Alex’s chest tightened as he considered the gift. And then couldn’t help the tears falling down his face.

“What…” he whispered, unable to speak clearly.

“What is it?” Rose called impatiently. She had more presents to open; what was the delay? Clambering over Triss’s lap to reach his side, Rose peered down and audibly tried to read the boldest word.

But Alex knew everything it said—and everything it meant.

“You’ve been talking about it for so long,” his mum said, her voice soft with emotion. “And you’ve been working so hard at your job. We thought we’d help you along.”

In his hands, he held a plane ticket to China. He’d wanted to complete a year at a top culinary school over there next year but even with the funds from his job, he hadn’t been able to afford the travel. And now…

Alex couldn’t breathe evenly enough as he stumbled over to his parents and collapsed into his mum’s arms. After a second, he felt his dad come around to hug him tightly.

“Thank you,” he whispered into his mum’s shoulder. “Thank you both.”

And although that wave of guilt tried to overtake him, he shoved it back. This wasn’t a gift to feel guilty over—this was a gift to be endlessly grateful for. Alex thought of all the nights Rose had spent crying in his room, asking for her dad to read her a bedtime story but he’d been working. He thought of the days he’d seen his mum bit her nails right down when she was declined shift after shift request. And then they’d stuck her with Christmas Day, of all days.

Alex sobbed harder, holding his parents tighter. He wouldn’t have to forfeit anymore. He could progress, better himself, he could—

“What else did you get?” Rose asked, looking around. She still had more presents, as did Triss, but that small piece of paper that meant more than it’s size was all that was in Alex’s corner. And he couldn’t care less.

“I have more than enough,” Alex said softly.

“But Santa didn’t get you more things!” Rose cried, looking up sadly. So Alex sat next to her, showing her the plane ticket.

“See this? This is worth everything to me. This is all I wanted to open, Rose. Santa knew I didn’t need lots of presents this year, only this one.” He caught his dad’s fond expression as he watched them both. Rose, with her wide, imploring eyes; Alex, unable to properly convey what this meant to him.

“Why does Santa want to send you away?” Rose asked, pouting.

Alex pulled her to his side, hugging her tightly. “Because he knows you love me enough to be right here in your heart and mind.”

Whether his little sister understood, he didn’t care. He wanted to teach her that it wasn’t always the amount of presents visually but rather the thought and quality behind them. One plane ticket could be worth more than ten of Rose’s gifts.

He looked around his family, wanting a better New Year for them all. Triss, about to embark on her Master’s degree; Rose, conquering her class and proving she, too, had her dad and elder sister’s academia even at a young age; his mum, finding a new job with better hours; his dad finally realising that love was worth more than money earned.

And Alex… He could go to China, get the education he wanted, and know that when he returned, his family would be waiting.

           

           

EVERYTHING AROUND US - In Progress.

“Is it not just nice to imagine? To collect thoughts and versions of what the world could be like and use that as fuel to create?”

            “Create what?” I asked, my voice rising harshly. “Unhappiness because those ideals will never happen?”

***

Contrary to the snippet above from my current WIP, I'm a massive believer in imagining other versions of myself. Is it weird to be able to pin-point the exact moment your life kind of went downhill? I can, and it was weird. It was something I couldn't adjust to and have fallen prey to. So I planned to write a book, out of my comfort zone, to deal with it. I knew I wanted it to have truthful situations I knew I'd be able to realistically write about. But it was going to be another version of me. I wanted to write a boy suffering with anxiety and relying on something creative. I wanted to use my knowledge of film-making which has just been tumbling round in my head since I left college last year.

I left it as a really weak idea for months before I even named my male protagonist. But in December, I watched an episode of The Vampire Diaries and listened to Concrete Angel and suddenly, I saw this boy in my head, and the song became something to me. The lyrics turned into thoughts and I  viewed how he saw a girl that he wanted to befriend. He wanted to reach her but they both had their own boundaries, and the girl had a good reason to put up her walls.

Hazel came to me in tiny bits. Her trademark ballcap fashion came first, slightly inspired from a friend I used to have. Her attitude came from another song (Cider by Yezi), and I went from there to build an image of the girl who'd oppose Nicholas and tell her own story.

EVERYTHING AROUND US follows both their POVs, to see their struggles and the different people they find in a small film club. In total, there are only five people (including them), largely underestimated by the leader of the group who missed his shot at being on a lighting team in Hollywood. So they only end up making one short film. This story is about inspiring each of the five to look beyond the ugliness they see in their worlds and find beauty, and to capture it.

Hazel finds it hardest to adjust. Taken from another friend, I made her restless. I made her a free spirit who found it hard to sit still or stay in one place, to go where her feet took her when she wanted. But she finds her place there eventually, as each of the others do. They find that they have a place, that they're needed to make something bigger, which is what they've always missed.

The club coaxes Nicholas to deal with his anxiety rather than just sit and waste away in his room, pondering over a fulfilled past. Anxiety is something I've not dealt well this past year and I've used that in Nicholas to see how he handles it, to see the support he gets and what he does from that. Hazel comes from a family that has slowly broken down because of something she did three years prior to the start of the story, and her side is fun and free to explore. The other three all add so much life and exploration to the story: Stuart, who can't decide on how he wants to look and relies on the opinions of others to guide him because of his own past; Hank who hates his name and switches from being called Dean or Alex depending on his days, who has a lot of parental pressure to be academically clever when he just wants to explore; Ailee, a girl who wants to fly and make art but got rejected from her dream school and finds the club as another creative avenue.

This story is in the drafting process and incredibly close to me. I'm taking situations I know or have seen and making them into something I can work through and find answers to. Through it, I'm finding old passions again and showing that I'm a lot more than just a person who sits at their desk and writes and that's all. I've lived and explored and whilst that may not be the case so much now, I will again because if I can write it, I'll believe it and become inspired by it.

Where I'm At.

It's 7am as I write this; I've been awake since 4am and have A LOT of writing to do today. In these hours, I've been reading through and updating my blog. I read back on the post of Imperial Infiltration's progress and thought I'd take the opportunity to properly state where I'm at with that.

First off, I finished an incredible read of Holding Up the Universe by Jennifer Niven yesterday. I've had the book on my to-be-read for months after loving (and being a little broken by) All the Bright Places and finally crawled through my reading pile enough to read it. Completely. Adored. I took notes as soon as I finished for a review I'll be writing on it! I want to get that down before starting A Court of Wings and Ruin by Sarah J. Maas sometime today.

But Imperial Infiltration's progress. For those who follow me on social media, you'll have noticed that I've been posting about querying agents again. (Again, as in, remember three years ago when a too-young me took this path with The Huntress's Curse?) I'm querying because I've scrapped the idea of self publishing. In turn, I've scrapped the post "officially" announcing the decision to self-publish, which was hard because I read over it and saw how happy and excited I was to give out that news. But I believe that I'll one day deliver better news about my books, announcements backed up by a lot more than just myself. After making that post, I went on a week's holiday to Corfu without my laptop, which was needed and beautiful and gave me a lot of time to research and think over my decision. I found a new article that suggested self-publishing wasn't the path for the sort of writer that I want to be. To achieve that, I need to go back to querying, as I did three years ago, and bite back the negativity associated with rejections. Self-publishing wasn't as cost-effective as I'd originally thought. However, I did get to see an amazing book cover and the start of a map for Imperial Infiltration.

As soon as I got home from Corfu, I began writing my query letter. I, of course, forgot how tedious it was. I got everything prepared, edited, polished and I sent off the requested sample pages and a query letter to three agents. That was another change from last time I queried. I needed much smaller batches of agents at a time to save rejection confusion and to improve my content each time and make it better with each submission batch. Three rejections later, I'm moving onto researching my next three. Now, these next three that I'm querying have asked for a little more content. They want longer samples, a cover letter, a query letter and a synopsis.

If you've ever had to write a synopsis, you'll understand the despair I'm in when I say that I'm working on it and wondering what the hell my book is about. Honestly, I'm torn between how can I neatly and passionately (enough) condense my 300-odd page/120,000 word novel into a one-page synopsis and keep things interesting, and what even is the purpose of this story down to one sentence? Through this panic, I realised I was looking at the question the wrong way. I was comparing my story to other, very different stories and wondering why my hook didn't sound like theirs. That's because Imperial Infiltration is more of a mental journey of finding oneself and making peace with a past and a present and lives that seem to fly beyond control. It's not a massive action story until the second book comes into play. So to explain that this is a story twisted around grief and questions and mental struggles is okay because that's what I've chosen to write about. But still, how do I make it interesting enough?

At the moment, I have a very, very awful rough draft of a synopsis, plus a better one half-done. Which rounds me back nicely to my writing list today:

• I have two reviews to write, one for HUTU and one for a very insightful and surprisingly inspiring musical that I saw last night, which I'll be uploading onto here.
• I have three more query letters to tailor to three more agents.
• A synopsis to finish and polish because I'll never get an agent if I don't finish it and send it off.
• I'll be writing more on my magician story (which has taken a really good albeit crazy turn).
• I need to write a cover letter, different to my query letter, which needs to feature an author bio of which I have one thing for, which won't be stressful to write AT ALL.
• On top of that, I'll be looking over my sample chapters again for anything missed last time.

But it's only 7:25am and I have many, many hours ahead of me to get this done, or at least make a caffeine-drenched, impressionable progress with this list.

The Sun is Also a Star (Review)

Title: The Sun is Also a Star

Author: Nicola Yoon

Genre: Young Adult

Rating: 5* !!!

“… Meant to be doesn’t have to mean forever…”

As a reader, I’ve learnt this:

There are some books you read that are good, incredible, even. There are other books that coax your entire being into it and take you to a different place completely. But then there are books that are important. The Sun is Also a Star was important to me—and it should be to the world, not just of readers.

Set in New York, Nicola Yoon (after a delightfully deep and emotional debut of Everything, Everything), manages to address every concept of life within a 344-page novel, and all taking place on the same day. Not only to write about so many realistic concepts, but to set it as she did… that had to be hard. But Nicola Yoon pulled it off in a way that surrounded me entirely, starting from the how-to-make-an-apple-pie philosophy beginning, to the tearful ending.

Backtrack to December, 2016. I asked for this book as a Christmas present. I knew I wouldn’t read it straight away, no matter how excited I was for the author’s next book after completely adoring Everything, Everything. For some reason, this book sat on my shelf and I wouldn’t pick it up—something told me to wait, that there was something about this book that required special timing. So I waited. Fast-forward a few months, to a couple days ago. I was holiday-ing in Corfu, a place I’d never been before, on a relaxation break. I packed The Sun is Also a Star—finally, it felt right to read it. I’m glad that I followed that weird feeling to wait because I got to read a thoughtful and beautiful book in a beautiful setting.

Immediately after closing the book, I said to my mum, “I need to write about this book. I can’t just leave it at that. This book needs to be spread so much further and I want to contribute to that.” After spending two days falling in love with the characters, the realism of the novel, I still couldn’t shake off this story.

Daniel Jae Ho Bae is a dreamer. Natasha Kingsley is a realistic cynic. Both are immigrants; one illegal, one legal. Daniel was born in America, but his parents originated from South Korea, and moved to America for better prospects, and their knowledge and experience of being poor weighs heavily on their two sons. Because of their past, they heap pressure on Daniel and Charles (aka, Asshole) to get themselves better futures. Doctors, is what they want their sons to be. And they push.

After being a Harvard drop-out, Charles becomes the sort-of frowned-upon son, when he’s always been the one Daniel is being told to be more like. Finally, one day, Daniel’s mum says that she doesn’t want him to end up like his older brother. Despite being born in America, Daniel is very Korean, completely opposite from his brother, who tries his best to be everything American. All these aspects are very important to the plot and Daniel’s character and life. On the day it is set, Daniel has an interview to begin his journey to the Second-Best university and then become a doctor eventually. He’s dressed up smartly and promises his mum that he’ll cut his hair.

Spoiler: he doesn’t.

It becomes quickly apparent through a train (literally) of awry things happening on his journey that Daniel does not want to be a doctor and he cares very little for the interview, clearly only going to make his parents happy because he knows how strongly they feel about not being poor, wanting their children to have a better life. What Daniel—sweet, innocent (again, not quite in thought as the story progresses), dreaming Daniel—wants is to be a poet. And he’s so immersed in his poetic world that it utterly collides (both well and terribly) with Natasha’s scientific, factual one.

Natasha Kingsley is also a main character with a sibling. This time younger. Peter is the brother that she has to share a living-room-turned-split-bedroom with. A curtain partitions their two rooms, barely. Living in a poor neighbourhood, Natasha’s family are immediately revealed that the day of the story is the day they’ll be deported. But instantly, Natasha is the only one not accepting that and acts to save her family.

Progressing into the novel, it becomes clear the resentment Natasha harbours for her father and their life and the unfairness of the situation. She remembers very little of the country she has come from-- Jamaica. What she does remember though is America being her home and now she’s being told that she has to leave that home, through no fault of her own. She’s paying for the mistake her father made. Obsessed with the facts and workings of the world, Natasha has no true passion.  It’s clear that she loves science and the world she surrounds herself with; she’s full of all this clever knowledge of the world and the reasons. But that’s just it for her: everything has to have a reason and evidence behind it. Nothing can never just be.

Then she meets Daniel. Daniel, who is beautiful to her and tempting and a dreamer. And he takes her to a Korean restaurant and to a Korean karaoke room and she offers to take him to her favourite museum, and he does his best to link love to scientific experimentation, and alters her way of thinking; she allows more thought to the way he sees things. In turn, she alters his.

This story is about the impossibility of falling in love as quickly as they do—that its fate, Daniel argues. But Natasha pushes and refuses that—she’s being deported, of course she doesn’t believe that it is fate. Why would she happen to meet him, fall in love with him, all on the day that she’d never see him again after? All throughout their day together, she can physically see Daniel’s brain wandering into a deeper love for her as she talks to him about her facts and world. And bit by bit, her resistance seems to fade, as such. She realises that she does feel for him. All these realisations come to her so strongly that it’s almost overwhelming.

A very important aspect of the book is that each background character mentioned meet get their own chapter (or two) of their backstory, to explain why and how they got to be a part of the story at the time they were. A security guard assesses Natasha’s phone at the office she has an appointment for about her deportation, and Nirvana’s album cover is her phone case. The security guard takes note of it, and she listens to the album on her break. This leads to her solidifying the fact that she wants to take her own life. But then the security guard gets another chapter—and her life is changed (very importantly so, for the ending that is sure to bring tears to eyes), thanks to Natasha.

In one part, a man nearly runs Natasha over in his car. His story is explained—and then it evolves to involve another man, who turns out to be the lawyer who is handling Natasha’s case—and happens to be Daniel’s interviewer. Each part of this story is intricately and well-thought out to weave together in a perfect and plot-twisting way to tell a story that expands so much more from the streets of New York. Each character is intertwined and tells a story that shows just how much one small move from one small person can affect another. A half-thought “thank you” can inspire a woman to move past the darkness, get help. A flight time falls perfectly to get two torn-apart people on the plane, plus an air attendant who remembers goodness. A man who recklessly drove can affect the mental outlook of another man, who realises that he needs to alter his married life and finally tell the woman he truly loves that he wants only her. A boy who’s on the verge of losing the best thing in his life can give altering perspective to a man who has so many more years on him.

And a poet can change the life of a factual, aspiring scientist who is facing the worst thing in her life.

So many aspects make up this book: family, friends, love, past, futures, legal matters, aspirations, passion, culture. With the two protagonists being so diverse, culture takes a massive front seat in The Sun is Also a Star and there are so many informative explanations and history in selected chapters. Despite coming from a South Korean background, Daniel’s father owns a black hair product store. Which, evidently, links into Natasha’s and her mother’s different hair styles. Through this, Nicola Yoon gives facts on the background of how the popularity of Koreans in America came to open up these kinds of stores which thrived. Following that, there is history on black women’s hair and styles and how they changed, what was fashionable, and how Natasha’s mother disapproves of her Afro, when she herself chemically straightens her hair. Natasha expresses her interest in changing up her hair styles, despite the popular “look”.

I’m not American, I’m not very well versed on American culture. So through this book, I learnt things about Korean culture as well as American and Jamaican. I wasn’t just reading a story, I was reading history and facts and things that made me wonder and think and consider. There’s a part in the book where Daniel and Natasha go to the Korean restaurant, and she asks the waitress for a fork as she doesn’t know how to use chopsticks. The Korean waitress responds with, “Teach girlfriend how to use chopsticks,” to Daniel. She then gets her own chapter of how she’s had her family divided by culture and American-Korean disagreements within the family. Her son married a white woman, moved away from his family’s disapproval, and how she only gets to see her grandchildren on pictures through social media. All this comes back to her through an American customer not being willing to learn how to use chopsticks in her restaurant. Her chapter mentions how America wants everyone to know their ways but isn’t willing to accept a small piece of other people’s culture within the country. I had a similar experience in a Korean restaurant—I asked for a fork because I didn’t know how to use chopsticks to eat my meal. I had no clue how to eat Korean food—I didn’t know there was a way. I didn’t have a Daniel Bae to instruct me. On top of the fork thing, I mixed my rice with my main meal. Again, wrong. I was taught that rice is eaten separately, and with a spoon. I did three things wrong in that restaurant, so reading about Natasha getting it wrong too made me feel relatable. I sat wondering if I’d offended the waitress who saw me, as the waitress took offence at Natasha’s asking for a fork.

There are two opposites in this story: there are people who embrace their origins and where they’ve come from, and then there are those who try to escape it and forcefully immerse themselves in the new culture they live in. The latter includes Daniel’s brother, who gets embarrassed at Daniel calling him a respectful hyung, the title for younger brothers to address their elder brother. As well as Charles, there is Natasha’s father. He’s the one who moved them to America, to follow his dreams of becoming an actor—evidently he’s also the one who ends them up being deported back to where he wanted to escape. Yet, he just accepts it where Natasha fights for her family’s rights.

With so much disagreement and awful actions over diversity and minorities going on in the world, The Sun is Also a Star puts incredible perspective on that through love and family relations in a story way, but also so it’s clear that this is a very real book.

My Second Novel and I'm Pretty Proud

Okay, so it's only a first draft completed. But as someone who usually struggles with just those, I'm pretty happy. I started drafting this in October/November, sitting next to my sister. She was playing the Les Miserables soundtrack and I'm pretty sure we were both supposed to be job-hunting. I played around with the opening sentence; I knew I wanted it to open with my younger sister character, Aritha. She was the part of the story that was the servant to the Empire so I wanted her to be central, already in the palace, to kick off the story. Immediately, I wanted to draw attention to the tattoo on her wrist and start of saying, "Hey, yeah, so this is an important thing she has." So, beside my sister, I wrote two lines of something about the steam of the pot making her face itch because she had to stir some sort of soup for the palace dinner that night. That turned out to be altered from hot to the feel of the cold of the stone floors making her flinch. Sensory, you see? I'm doing something right.


I called this story Imperial Infiltration. In the back of a taxi in Spain, driving back to the airport to come home, in mid-September last year, I began to have the tendrils of an idea about two sisters; one would be inside the palace and the other would pose as some princess or nobility figure for some reason. I didn't know what it was but I jotted it down on my phone and my mum asked what I was doing, and I just shrugged and said, "Another idea I probably won't use." Yet here I am this morning, writing about it and typing THE END to it. This all sounds very self-important for somebody who hasn't even got an agent or started editing this but I want to get my writing out there. I'd love for people to read this and gain interest, follow my news and updates. I don't know, but here's to trying! And here's to my sister for telling me to post and blog about my writing again properly to get it circulating, thank you! If anyone remembers, my earlier blog posts used to actually be about the last book I wrote so I may start that up again depending on how this one goes.

So Imperial Infiltration tortured my mind for a while. At the time, I was writing a story about two best friends in a gang of thieves, working for a man called Red. That story sucked quite spectacularly. It was fueled by pure anger and grudges and sadness and I'd never tried writing about thefts before but I persevered. But then I really, really couldn't help thinking that this new idea would be better; it would be the thing to break the spotting of creativity and I'd actually make good progress with it. So I began to write properly--each day, starting officially on this rule in January. And it's massively paid off for me. I've gotten a first draft completed in five months where my last full book took me a year and a bit. Yes, editing is to come next and I have my notes and my plans and the positivity still there in a waves, and this will be a lengthy process but I'm just enjoying my success here. My last post was dismal, angry, and I wanted a different tone.

This is the story of two sisters, only two years apart. When they lose both their parents, they're forced to duel out ownership of their house as they want to go their separate ways. Here, it doesn't matter who was born first; it just matters who wins. The eldest, Reya, wants to travel, train herself to become more like her father who served as the Emperor's general (this story is set in a big Empire called Zaari) and use the house as a constant base for when she returns. Aritha is the youngest and more logical. She just wants to live in the house, sell different furniture to buy her own things. But at the same time, she wants out completely. But their duel goes a little haywire and Reya gets injured, making her do that last step towards leaving. She travels to a place outside of the Empire called the Stones, a transformed battle safehouse, where she then trains with a different army general. Alone and surrounded by the house she originally wanted, Aritha can't bear the loneliness and memories so she leaves. But she leaves to go to the imperial palace. Her theory is that there, she'll have work without worrying that she'll have to return to an empty home, she'll be surrounded by people and she'll have a constant in her life again. So she becomes a servant. After a few choice events, Reya also makes her appearance in the palace, but posing as someone called Lady Revina and she's been sent there for some ulterior motive that even she didn't know.


Romance doesn't really take a high seat in this story. There is very much elements of it. For example, Aritha finds herself feeling for a lord's son within the palace and their journey assists in her own in her confidence. She's out of practice with feeling loved and second-guesses the reciprocated feelings quite a bit but she comes to realise Jackson, the son, does care about her. In the Stones, Reya and Eli, the general's nephew, come to have a certain arrangement of "hey, I'll kiss you and try to acknowledge that I like you but in reality and more sober, I'm too scared to admit it." But there's only make-believe feelings there. None of them really pursue it but they argue about it enough. It's more focused on the depth of the siblingship and the break in the past and how each of them deal with the loss of their parents and each other and what the memories and unfinished business does to them. Reya is a character who can get stroppy quite easily, someone easily scared. Aritha suffers from panic attacks and is timid, afraid in her own way, and is picked on within the palace. But she builds herself up each time because she only has herself. She falls the hardest out of everyone in the kitchen where she works but she's the first to get herself back up.


So this was originally planned to be a 420-page standalone. That was my goal when the idea began to take shape in my head. With each month, I counted up my daily wordcount and my monthly one and got better and better. Two days ago, I wrote a chapter ending and realised: oh, this is actually a pretty good, concluded ending. Followed by, wait! you have so much more to write. And I literally had an internal monologue/argument with myself over if I should leave it there and write a second book to couple with it because of how much further I wanted to go with this story, or if I should carry on writing, shorten my ideas and make it the standalone originally planned. So I took out my phone and talked and explained to my friend; she agreed that good fantasy usually comes as more than one book and it should be a duology. I asked others and they also agreed. So, after much deliberation, I'm now closing THE END on the first book standing at 340 pages (pre-edit) and beginning the editing process whilst planning out brief notes for the continuation. Me being me, I scrambled at the books on my shelves, somewhat disappointed as I don't feel like this is long enough but I've said all I want to in a now first book and tried to find others that had a 300-400 page count. And I did so I'm somewhat reassured this may be okay.


I have no idea what either one will be called now so I'll also be thinking up ideas for that and perhaps looking for critique partners again which never work out but heyho, timing is awful. In the second book, I plan for most things to come to light. The reason why Reya was sent to the palace, what the infiltration means, introducing characters into the off-limits part of the Empire called the Barian Desert rather than just have past legends being told. A lot more can go on with this story, especially given where I've ended it. I never thought I'd end a story with a kiss but that seemed right and nice for one of the character's partial conclusion.


I usually post updates on my personal Instagram account: reidandwriting, or I have a Twitter account @ShaneDReid where I post about my writing, if anyone's interested! Follow me or come chat to meeeee :D