My Debut Novel....

         As a debut author the world has turned from hopeful to bewildering to terrifying over the course of a few months during 2021. In August 2020, I was merrily sitting in Greece with a strong black coffee finishing a story that an agent was looking at. I needed to get a wriggle on as she wanted to read what I'd written as soon as I was back home. But being able to sit in the place where my novel is set, the writing came freely, and it was joyful although mildly anxious-making that an agent was reading the first twelve chapters, but  I forged onwards, immersing myself in the story. I could close the laptop and have a holiday when I'd reached my limit for the day.

Cut to August 2021 on my publisher's structural edit deadline, being in Greece was soothing, but there was a contractual obligation to not only write well, but to get it done. There is something to be said for being where you've set a novel. Capturing on the page what is in front of you, the full sensory experience of Greece, the smell, temperature and sounds, it lives vividly in my mind when I'm back at home but writing out there makes a huge difference.

        There were crumbs of inspiration for my story floating around my mind and it all began on a train journey from London to Cornwall. I saw a writing competition requiring 500 words on the subject 'the outfit I will never wear again'. As the remaining two hours stretched ahead, I started to think....

        My family asked people not to wear black to my mother's funeral, she was so vibrant, colourful and fabulous that despite the tragedy and heartbreak of her sudden death aged just 59, mourning attire felt wrong. So, I dressed in a magenta cocktail dress that she and I had bought together for a 'pink' Mitzvah. Paired with skyscraper heals and a broach I bought her for Christmas that she never got to open, I was bedecked and bejewelled for my mother's funeral.

Wrong, but so right.

That was my starting point for the writing competition and the seed of inspiration for the beginning of my debut novel. I tinkered with formulating a story from those 500 words and three years on from that train trip, I am about to be published. The bittersweetness remains that if my mother was still here, this book wouldn't have been written. I would have certainly written a novel at some point, but it wouldn't have been this story. I know she is incredibly proud and has been with me on this journey, holding my hand along the way. 

        Writing this blog post just one month away from publication seems unreal. But such is the road to publication, the ultimate rollercoaster for thrill-seeking masochists! It's hard to imagine myself back in the shoes of that girl coming up with a story on the train a few years ago, but the giddy feeling I get in my stomach about seeing my book on the shelves on June 9th makes it all seem worthwhile.

        It isn't easy, writing a novel, but I've done it and now it's almost time to share it with the world.