Project Person // Profile #3.5 (a book update!)

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🪩 Interrupting our regularly-scheduled programming because I have an update on this novel I’m writing. Scroll to the bottom if you’re in a hurry; read the whole long backstory if you’ve got time! 🪩

I’ve always wanted to complete an Iron Man… but I just really hate running, biking, and swimming (🫠).

There’s something about the training and commitment though. The grind, the effort, the pomp and circumstance, the self-discovery, the community. And, obviously, that feeling at the finish. I’ve wanted that. 

On a plane a few years ago, I finished reading a novel (a pirate YA, of all things), and while reading the author’s acknowledgements in the back of the book, an idea hit me. You’re not just born with a novel in you. It’s something you develop and train for.

I guess it’s why they call writing a craft, after all. 

And as this author thanked her family and agent and editors and all the consultants who taught her about pirate-stuff, I realized (duh) it’s not something you do alone. 

With the remaining hour or so of plane-brain that day, I let myself consider writing a story of my own. I started a note in my phone with a list of what I loved in my favorite novels—a love story with great banter and tension, a historical setting inspired by real people and places, metaphors that felt real but not cliche, a twist at the end—and I decided to make writing this book my Iron Man. 

I asked my husband that night if we could carve out time for me to “train”.

We considered early mornings or weekend writing getaways (tell that to my kids’ birthday party schedules), but then we found a surprise hour in our days in the craziest of places. 

We were in a Netflix-lull, and we got in bed that night early after putting the kids to bed. David pulled out a book, and I pulled out my laptop. What if we gave up TV for awhile? 

Two years later: David’s read a bunch of books, and I’ve got a novel in my Google Docs. 

Following my friend Peyton’s advice (I call her my “book boss”), I wrote the first draft just for me. “Tell the story to yourself,” she told me.

My middle daughter was the very first person to read my first chapter, and she nodded once and said, “It’s pretty good.” I’m still not sure how to take that. I let David and Peyton read the full first draft, and I really can’t describe that feeling. 

Stephen King calls it telepathy.

For a first-time writer’s first-draft’s first-read, I’d say it’s more like handing someone your soul and then asking them to make it better. It was terrifying. 

They navigated it beautifully, giving me the perfect balance of specific encouragement and constructive feedback. With Peyton’s edits, I felt like I received my MFA: when to spell out a number, when to stretch out a scene, when to show and not tell. 

I told myself at the outset that I wanted to write the first draft as a personal project, with no expectations beyond that. Peyton encouraged me to really celebrate the draft’s completion: “You wrote a novel!!”

But I knew it wasn’t done. 

A friend told me recently that she writes to be heard; I think I write to understand. It’s my form of external processing. 

I wanted a deeper understanding not just of the craft but of the topics I was tackling—ones that weren’t exactly straightforward. Why do terrible things happen to some people and not others? How do we accept love and not just try to earn it? What is the value of just one life? 

But I realized I needed more than just the act of writing to understand—I needed others to read, to discuss. David and Peyton showed me I needed to externally process with more than just the page.

I celebrated that first draft for a bit, and then I got to work on the next draft. With the six (!) full manuscript revisions that followed, I knew I wanted others in on this with me. 

I sent the Google Doc out to friends for some beta reader feedback. Each revision had a unique purpose, and each new reader got to join this world that meant so much to me. 

I came to love my characters as if they were friends (not as weird as it sounds), and I was consistently surprised by the choices they made (maybe as weird as it sounds). Surprisingly, the revisions became even more exciting than the initial drafting. 

Eventually, I decided I was ready to graduate this manuscript from Google Doc-dom. 

Here’s a mini-primer on book publishing: you can self-publish or traditionally publish, with a few hybrid options in between. Traditionally publishing usually requires an agent, and they then pitch your manuscript to publishers. These can be the big five and their imprints (Penguin Random House, HarperCollins, etc), or they can be smaller independent presses. 

In addition to receiving an advance in payment (vs fronting the costs of editing/design/publication yourself), traditional publishing also comes with a greater reach—opportunities to be in more stores, on more lists, etc. You keep less money (that agent and publisher need to get paid, after all!), but in theory, you have more opportunity. 

I wavered between the options but ultimately decided to give traditional a shot, for the experience more than anything.

Early this year, I entered what is affectionately known as the querying trenches: the quest to find an agent. 

Trenches?! Why the extreme language? Querying requires that you pitch your book and yourself to a stranger who is deciding if they basically want to become your business partner and sell you to a publisher. If they are interested, they then invest like 20 hours of their life into reading your manuscript. 

It’s incredibly subjective and time-consuming for agents. It’s incredibly agonizing for writers. 

They say to expect 100 nos before your yes, but unfortunately, despite all my internet-scouring, I only found 24 agents that felt like they would align well with me and my book. This was not going to help my chances. I went into my first round of querying with some big vision and was (not quickly, because it takes “10-12 weeks” in most cases) leveled with some crickets, some form rejections, and one very detailed and painful rejection that ended up actually being the most helpful, as she actually gave me something to work on. 

So I went into another pain cave of revisions and started another round of querying. I tried to quit at some point but my Book Boss made me stay the course. 

Long story short, I signed a deal with my dream agent last week. 

I was on a plane when we made it official, which felt pretty full-circle. My plane-brain kind of exploded. 

This agent has been in the industry for decades with most of his career on the publishing side. He has a heart for community and brings his authors together monthly for a call. He gets the vision for this book, and I’ve been fully myself on my calls with him. I am so excited. 

We’re working on a proposal for publishers now, and I’m gonna do yet another (light) revision before we send it out. I’ve been prepped that this will be a very long process, and I also know books can often “die on submission”. It feels weird for me to share openly about it when it’s still just a Google Doc, but that’s kind of the chicken-or-egg publishing paradox: publishers will soon start looking me up as we pitch them, and I want them to see that I mean business (and that people care). 

So do you care?! (This is what my insecurity wonders every time I send these emails out, so know that your responses and texts have meant the world!)

Here’s why I hope you might:

First, I believe in this story, and I hope you can find some healing in it just as I have.

Second, I hope to use this book to grow healthy communities through moved hearts (what moves hearts more than a book?) and through funds, as we’ve committed to give any proceeds from the book towards foster and adoptive support.

And third, you know what it’s like to build a project—and you know what it’s like to feel supported.

Writing a novel is totally a team sport, I’m learning. 

Here are three specific asks that will help me get the right publishing deal:

1. I just posted on Instagram about this. This is the first post publishers will see when we start pitching them. Show me some love! 

1. I’d like to partner with an influencer/celebrity in the foster/adoption space to write a call-to-action letter for modern day foster/adoption support in the back of my book. Got any good ideas or connections?

2. If you know anyone who might benefit from these Project Person emails, forward any along or post a link in your stories/FB/LinkedIn to subscribe (https://project-person.beehiiv.com/subscribe). You’re now officially on the longest book launch team in history, congrats!

I’ll keep you updated on the good and the bad in this process, and we’ll return to our regularly-scheduled Project Person emails next week. Thanks for indulging me in this 💛

Next week (for real this time), I’ll share a friend’s story about starting a brick-and-mortar business while also working a very full-time job with a growing family. 🫠 Stay tuned!