Heartening to Hear

I have yet to write a single word of my angel novel. Not the first sentence nor the last. Not the 500,000+ words over three years and umpteen drafts that I’ve written so far on my Lyra book.

And still I’ve gotten some welcome praise for On the Side of Angels.

Through the writing workshop I’m taking online, my book coach Heather offered me this feedback on the concept and rough sketch of what my novel will be about:

“Fantastic work! Your premise is on fire. You did such an awesome job with the various sections of the workbook and it inspired me with my comments all the more! Don’t be overwhelmed… If I wasn’t so smitten by this story I can assure you that there would be far less comments!”

This, from someone who isn’t related to me. 🙂

This, from someone who knows me only through my writing. 🙂

This, from a professional writer. 🙂

Ok, it’s a long way from a publishing deal and I have a ton of work to do (concept is one thing; implementation is another…) but I’ll take the encouragement where I can get it, and forge ahead.

I’m jazzed about it, though. This novel seems to be coming together more easily than Phoenix Cells–quite possibly because I’m starting from a different angle (the why, the point of the book, the inner struggle of the character instead of simply sitting down to write).

But my husband Scott pointed out that I’ve been batting around this angel idea for years. He reminded me I did months of research on angel lore long ago; he said I’ve started and stopped about three or four versions of an angel book eons ago.

It’s true; the story has been brewing (in many different forms) in my mind for a long time–in fact, I interrupted one version of it to start on Phoenix Cells. I wondered at the time why I “gave up” on the angel concept, and the answer is simple: that version wasn’t working. [My main character was a human and angels came to Earth; this new idea is all set in the heavens and everyone is an angel].

So how did I hit on this new idea that is working?

The answer is extraordinarily clear and blindingly obvious–only after I discovered it (in part thanks to my work with Jennie and Heather): by making sure my future readers (i.e.: a young adult audience) will be able to relate to my protagonist.

In Evangeline’s case, she’s struggling with going against the ideals of her father, Lucifer. She comes to believe in a different set of values than those she grew up with and wants to trust her own judgment, to confront her father about his (lack of) morality, but she’s terrified she’ll lose him–his trust, his love, his support (and, in my story, her choices could lead directly to his death). She knows the right thing to do, but how can she do it if it means losing everything she knows and loves?

You don’t have to be fluttering up in the heavens in the middle of a war against God to appreciate that morality–whatever the issue is that you’re trying to deal with–is messy and complex and confusing and challenging and unclear.

Which means my readers will understand Evangeline, which means they’ll like the book, which means they’ll tell others to read it, which means… a runaway bestseller.

Now, after having said that with conceited confidence, here’s hoping I’m right. 🙂