The making of a novel, part 1—a young adult voice

After more than eight years, I’m on the verge of finishing Dell’s story and sending it out into the world. So as I embark on my next project, I’ve decided to chronicle the journey from germ of an idea to completed manuscript.

First, some background: in the fall of 2017, I was dabbling in writing again after taking a several-year hiatus as I adjusted to life as a parent. Shawn, Ellie, and I had started doing our happy tasks, and I thought, Hey, this would make a cool book. So I began writing an adult novel about a woman whose husband has died and who, over the course of the novel, discovers the healing power of kindness.

Fast-forward two years. When I made a New Year’s resolution to write more in 2019, I picked up where I had left off on what I was calling The Happy Jar. But something wasn’t working. The 50 pages I had felt flat.

I had debated whether to spend my newly committed writing time working on this kindness story or on Dell’s, so when I hit a wall, I switched. Obviously, I saw Dell through to the end, but as I was working on it, I realized something about the other book: it shouldn’t have been an adult novel.

One of my strengths as a writer, I think, is my voice—and it’s a young adult voice. So why was I telling the story from the mom’s point of view? A logical question, but scary nonetheless. It’s hard to abandon something you’ve put time, effort, and heart into. And although I knew something was wrong with what I had, there was a lot I liked about it too. I’d begun to fall in love with the characters—my main character, Patrice; her late husband, Derek (revealed in flashbacks); and her daughter, Rae. But once I was willing to entertain the possibilities of starting over, it became clear that Rae needed to be the one to tell this story.

So, meet Raina (Rae) Ballester—you’ll be seeing more of her soon.

Selfless good deeds

As those who know me can attest, Friends is my favorite show of all time. So many life situations harken back to an episode. Recently, I was thinking about “The One Where Phoebe Hates PBS.” Joey tries to convince Phoebe there’s no unselfish good deed because doing kind things for others makes you feel good.

Here I turn to Merriam-Webster. Selfless means “having or showing great concern for other people and little or no concern for yourself.” Because I find joy in performing acts of kindness, I have to disagree with selfless good deeds. But M-W defines selfish as “having or showing concern only for yourself and not for the needs or feelings of other people,” so I also disagree with calling them selfish.

Fortunately, because our language has a colorful variety of words with subtle nuances, we have another option. Unselfish means “having or showing more concern for other people than for yourself,” which I think is a fair description of our kind gestures.

But realistically, I believe things fall along a continuum. Some of our acts of kindness sit further from selfless because of how fun they are for us. When we buy a nice bottle of wine to share with friends or family, we’re getting as much out of that experience as they are. But some of our acts require a sacrifice and thus come closer to that elusive selfless good deed.

I am not enjoying growing out my hair in order to donate it. It’s a pain in the ass. When I sit on the couch, I have to move it out of the way. At night when I turn over, I have to flip my head around to get all the hair out from under me. Sometimes I have to use two hands when I comb it, and as winter approaches, I know it will get stuck in my coat.

Plus, beyond the inconveniences of growing it out, I’m not looking forward to getting it cut. I have had short hair twice in my life and hated it both times. So if any of our kind acts approach selflessness, this is it.

But…

I still feel good about choosing to do it. Especially because I work in a cancer-related field, I think often about the people going through such a journey. I can only imagine the challenges—physical, emotional, financial, logistical, spiritual­—these people face. When struggling through hardship, I believe we should find as many small moments of joy as possible. And if I can help someone look in the mirror and feel a little bit better about herself, that makes me feel good.