Dreams

on trying to make one come true

This is the story of a story.

da Vinci is known for his art, but he was also obsessed with flight and it’s been theorized that he was so paranoid that people would steal his ideas, he wrote in a self-made shorthand and backwards in his journals in a sort of code to protect his work. It’s also been said that he just wanted to keep the page clean, because he was left-handed, but the first theory is far more intriguing.

In 2011, I entered the very first book I’d written (with intentions to publish–I wrote a few prior to this that I considered practice books) in the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award. This was back when Amazon was beginning to expand into the megalith it is today, but was still mostly known for books. 2011 was pre-MFA, pre-Highlights Foundation, pre-most of the learning and growing I’ve done as both a writer and a human, but I was proud of this weird story and felt like it had something going on for it. Amazon agreed and I watched with complete surprise over the next several weeks as my novel kept moving through the rounds. It got all the way to second place, along with a selection of others, which came with the prize of a Publisher’s Weekly review, albeit not a publishing contract.

But today I’m very happy that was the case.

the only remaining online proof of this contest—Cooper was my previous married name

In January of the following year, I decided now that I had this single credit–and a nice PW review–it was time to give querying agents a try. I did my homework. I had a copy of Writer’s Market, which was the most efficient way to research agents and editors at the time. One had to page through, find the right genre, read the agent’s bio, and often still send a SASE. I’d attended the Greater Lehigh Valley Writers Group and Conference and learned about how to query, and the “elevator pitch”, and so, armed with information and my story, dove into the industry trenches for the first time.

On a single day in January, I got my first full manuscript request from an agent, discovered that my novel document had been corrupted into wingdings, and found out I had a brain tumor. It was the lost document I was most panicked about. I’d go on later to write about how this experience helped me claim the title writer for myself for the first time even though I’d been writing all my life. That piece won the award for personal essay at Vermont College of Fine Arts. And no worries, I found a clean document in a previous email I’d sent and the tumor was benign. That agent gave me wonderful feedback and I’ve never forgotten her kind and thorough response–especially considering the years of rejection that would follow–but she didn’t make an offer to represent me.

Today I’m glad she didn’t.

The same story got me accepted to VCFA later that year. It won me a merit scholarship with my application. It eventually became my creative thesis. It’s important to know, however, I was working on many other projects in tandem. Some writers fall in love with their story so much it’s the only thing they work on for decades. That’s not me. I loved this story, and it clearly had promise, but I was also working on and finishing many other projects.

earliest versions, but don’t want to give too much away!

In 2015, a year after I graduated from VCFA, I used this story to query agents again. It had drastically changed over the last five years and, especially as my thesis, it had some of the best writing I think I’ve ever done. This time, I got three offers of representation (and no brain tumors) and in the end went with my now good friend Linda Epstein. It became the first novel to go out on submission and it garnered a lot of praise, and a bit of confusion. I don’t think editors knew exactly what to do with it. It bends genres, it’s a bit dark, it’s pretty heavy on psychology, science and science fiction, yet isn’t technically sci-fi and leans more into speculative. On top of that it was told nonlinear with an unreliable narrator. To sum it up, it didn’t fit in a box. And it’s really hard to get published for the first time if your book doesn’t fit in a box. So together we decided to shelve it. And although it was disappointing, I knew I had a lot more stories in me, so I just kept working, and a year later Linda made a sale for me. And then many more sales. We went on to have a great ten-year working partnership, with several shelved projects and several good deals. I broke into picture books, chapter books and middle grade novels during that time.

But something still nagged at me. That story.

To be honest, there are a few shelved projects that nag at me, but it’s that first one—that “heart book”, as we call the ones that won’t let go—that has held my attention the most. It’s one I’d revisit in between deals and rejections and finishing other stories. I’d tinker, I’d consider, I’d play with different POVs. The idea had me so hooked from its inception that I really couldn’t get it out of my head. Which is funny, because that’s part of the premise of the book itself–an idea getting hooked into one’s head so deeply that it threatens that person’s reality.

Don’t worry, my reality is intact. Mostly.

Because of a few years of personal upheaval, my writing practice took a major hit and by December of last year, I was feeling pretty burnt out. We hadn’t sold anything in five years. I indie-pubbed Monolith which was so much fun, but I wasn’t going to do that again. And I had a few projects that I felt were worth returning to and trying again–this very first weird story being one–but I got the feeling that I might be the only one who wanted to return to older projects. Most of all, I felt like I needed a break from this industry all around. I didn’t want the pressure to write what others wanted me to write, or pitch what others thought I should pitch. I wanted to fall in love with writing just for me again. So, I decided to let my agent go.

At the same time, I let my good friend Christa read this nagging story of mine. Christa has an MFA, she’s a fast and fantastic reader–meaning she has an eye for good writing and storytelling, and can objectively read from a writer’s point-of-view. This can be hard to find when you’re looking for honest and constructive feedback. Some people get too caught up in the story as entertainment (or as drivel), and most can’t speak to what they think needs some work or how to do it. But Christa had some solid feedback that I took to heart and trimmed my book by about 10,000 words as a fresh start.

My intention was that since I had no more ties, obligations, or contracts, 2025 would be the year I’d make this freaking book finally work. No one wanted this tome except for me, so that’s what I’d focus on.

And then a few weeks later, Christa texted me out of the blue. If you remember, I featured Christa here in the Sub, when she shared her knowledge of agents and how to research them appropriately. She is a force when it comes to research. I like to think I’m pretty good at it, but she is far more tenacious.

Her text: Based on your fabulous YA [young adult] pitch, I suggest querying this guy when you’re ready to query. He started his own company with an emphasis on book to film…getting both contracts at once. Seems interested in speculative. New agent with solid connections in Hollywood.

She didn’t know the guy, she’d only read about him in a couple articles. He wasn’t a solid kidlit agent with deals in the children’s literary world to compare myself or my work to, which is the world I’ve solidly been in for over a decade. But his MSWL, which is an agent’s “bio” of what they are looking for and hoping to represent, ticked off nearly every single weird and dark aspect of this book. So, I was curious, but still hesitant because there are rules we’re supposed to follow–primarily that we are supposed to stay in our lane. But Christa made a good point: Who the hell cares?

And she was right. What did I have to lose by pitching him? Absolutely nothing.

It took me a while to finally do it, but one night, after a gin and soda, I hit send.

And this week I signed with my new agent, Jackson Keeler. Who, I will add, said my book reminds him of a Christopher Nolan movie. Pretty much the greatest praise I could imagine, but mostly because it means he gets it. Finally, someone who gets what I’m doing, or at least what I’ve been trying to do with this book. Don’t get me wrong, I have a shit-ton of work ahead of me. I’m a little shell-shocked and a lot overwhelmed with wondering how to essentially start over, but I’ve found someone (or rather the agent-matchmaking genius, Christa, has found someone) who understands this story and can help me think about it in the way I need to really pull it together.

This is, no question, the most ambitious thing I’ve ever written. And I think that’s why it hadn’t been picked up earlier. I needed to grow as a writer to pull it off. Frankly, I’m not sure I’ve grown enough and that’s scary–speculative fiction is a challenge–but now I have someone in my corner who truly understands the vision, so maybe, just maybe this book will finally come off the proverbial shelf and find its way to the real shelf.

I won’t be talking about the project much, from here out. For me the magic happens when I keep it to myself for a while, but I wanted to share this story of my story as encouragement for all of you out there who have a beloved project, or are trying to get agents, or your first deal, or whatever it is that feels so out of reach, whatever that dream is. Over and over again, I have had to learn to trust others and trust myself while also trusting the process, and it’s a really hard balance in a difficult industry. If this book comes to be published, it was over fifteen years in the making. (I will be expecting serious backpay) But in those fifteen years I learned so much because I kept writing. And more importantly kept finishing projects.

Finishing is the key. If you need help with finishing projects there are so many resources out there in addition to MFA programs: writing conferences, private editors, Highlights Foundation, Reedsy Learning, community college adult classes (how I actually started!), and so many other online opportunities. I’ve used all of these and more through decades of learning my craft. Don’t give up, don’t try to live in a writing vacuum (unless that’s what you want), listen to your friends and colleagues when they give good advice, and trust yourself to know when a story needs to continue.

One of my most favorite quotes