Making new characters, making new friends


After six drafts, four test readers, and lots of guidance from my children’s lit instructor, I finally sent out the middle-grade novel I’ve been working on for the past two years. Like, actually sent it. Out into the world. For people in children’s publishing to read. 


Ahhhhh!


On the one hand, it feels like a huuuuge accomplishment. On the other hand, I’ve been feeling a bit lost ever since.

















It reminds me of how I felt after I finished the last Harry Potter book. And that is, “How will I ever be able to read again when I’ll never find characters I feel as close to as Harry, Ron and Hermione?” At the time, every book I picked up just didn’t feel the same. I didn’t know the characters like I knew my Hogwarts buddies. They weren’t my friends. Everything felt foreign, and frankly, a little bit sad.


With my own novel, I’ve noticed that this feeling is multiplied by about a million, give or take a few. Not because my novel is anywhere near the level of Harry Potter, but because the characters in it are mine. They came from me. 


I don’t have kids, but I keep wondering if this is what people mean when they say “it’s different when they’re your own” about children. It is. There are tons of literary characters I’ve felt very close to throughout my life (I’m looking at you, Harriet M. Welsch), but when it’s your own novel, each character you create is a part of you. It’s very personal.


And then, one day you go and send your kidsI mean characters out in to the cruel, harsh world and wonder if they’ll do okay. Will people like them? Will they succeed? Did I do enough on my end to set them up for greatness?


Not only that, but without them “at home” anymore, you feel a bit empty. You spend days, weeks, months, years with these people —  scheduling your day around them, getting them from one place to the other, orchestrating experiences for them, worrying about them, helping them learn and grow — and then boom. One day they’re gone, and you wonder what you’re supposed to do with yourself now.


















I know. As a writer, what I’m supposed to do is to start a new story. Meet new people. Get to know them. But it’s much harder than I thought it would be. It’s a confusing and emotional process to say goodbye to these friends I made and start all over again. 


For the record, I’m not claiming that my characters are amazing or that others will connect to them the way I did. It is my first novel after all, and I know that many first novels are a learning process and never make it. But, even if no one else meets these characters, they still meant something to me. For the first time ever in my life, I created people out of nothing and went on a journey with them, and that was special. It makes it hard to let go.


I work at the library, and every day when I look around the shelves, it truly amazes me that so many authors have been able to do this — to create worlds and characters that feel so real to them (and to us, the readers on the other end), say goodbye, and then do it all again, sometimes dozens and dozens of times.


I have to believe I’ll get there someday, but wow. I’m impressed.



















Nonetheless, for the past couple of weeks I’ve been trying my best to power through this weird slump by brainstorming new ideas while reading tons of advice from other authors. I still don’t feel like I have a killer story idea together quite yet, but a book that’s been helping me out a lot is John D. Brown’s “Create Story Ideas that Beg to Be Written”  


Brown’s insights have been SUPER helpful for taking some of the mystery out of creativity and idea generation. He breaks down the essential elements of story and guides you through the process of creating strong story setups — something I desperately need to practice since initial plotting is always my biggest struggle. Not only that, but he also helps you find your own personal style — the types of stories that make you jazzed in particular — which has been really eye-opening and helpful for finding inspiration.  


I’ve also been watching Judy Blume’s Masterclass, which is incredible of course. She talks about a lot of things, but one of my favorite bits is when she describes herself as a “messy writer” with a “messy mind”. She talks about how it takes a lot of wading through that mess to get to the story she wants to tell in the end, which was super encouraging for me to hear since I feel like I’m the same way. And hey, if Judy Blume figured out how to work with her messy mind and come up with great stories, I can too, right? 


A girl can dream…

















Along with John D. Brown’s book and Judy Blume, another thing that’s been helping me with the brainstorming process is making photo collages. Once I have a rough idea for a story, I like to gather a bunch of related images and throw them all together in an album in Google Images. I “cast” my potential characters, sometimes using images of actors if they fit the part, or sometimes just random images of people on the internet. I also throw in pictures of setting, objects, and anything else that goes along with the “mood” of the story I think I want to create. 


Visualizing the characters in their environment this way helps them seem more real to me as I try and get to know them, and often sparks more ideas.


I keep the collage up as I work — while also listening to a soundtrack that feels fitting and try my best to get into the world of these characters, even if it doesn’t end up being the final world I create.





And, one last thing that helps me power forward during the “I don’t have a fully formed idea” slump is this: whenever I’m trying to create something new — whether it’s a story, a piece of music, a game —  it almost feels as though the final, perfect version of that thing already exists somewhere out there in the ether. Who knows, maybe it’s chilling with the rest of Plato’s perfectly formed things somewhere, but wherever it is, I consider it my job to wade through the fog and uncover it piece by piece. Ariadne captures this feeling so perfectly in Inception when she talks about creating dream worlds:


Cobb: Imagine you're designing a building. You consciously create each aspect. But sometimes it feels like it's almost "creating itself", if you know what I mean.

Ariadne: Yeah, like I'm discovering it.

Cobb: Genuine inspiration, right? 


Right!? Even though it may sound a little magical, thinking this way helps me feel like the story I’m trying to create can be good some day, even though I’m going to have to wade through a lot of garbage ideas before I discover that version of it.














So, even though I’ve been in a bit of a slump since saying goodbye to my old characters, these past couple weeks of author inspiration, mood boards, music and plot exercises have helped me inch closer to my next story world and begin to meet new people. And that, my friends, is encouraging :)


Onward!