how colette is getting her own story

I got a reply from a publisher a couple months ago. The email was a lot like a breakup (except this was WAY better). It started out with lots of compliments that prepped me for the ending, where they said they couldn’t publish the work because there was too much work to be done on it.

BUT

BUT

BUT

They said that if I fixed those flaws, they’d love to revisit it.

So, here we go again. I’ve been working on this book for, what, six years on and off now? Yet it has stuck with me.

I am Adelaide, and Adelaide is me.

Her story will breath life and hope into people, no matter how it ends up being published. I just know it.

One of the things the publisher suggested lead to me realizing . . . Colette needs a voice. In case you don’t know who she is (admittedly, I was in the same boat before I started writing her story), she is the king’s wife.

So, I climbed into the castle. I left Adelaide behind, and I walked into Colette’s bedroom. I asked her who she was and what her story was. I knew part of it (which I cannot tell, or I’d ruin a giant plot point), and yet a floodgate of knowledge and sadness and hurt was opened. I can’t believe I almost didn’t get to share her story.

Because, the fact is, Colette is a lot like Adelaide. Whereas Adelaide’s adopted mother abuses her gifts, Colette’s husband abuses her emotionally. She suffers from lack of love, and she’s slowly wilting like a sunflower in a winter storm. Yet, she’s also strong and kind and brave. She fights for her son, but she also carries years of pain and shame. Because of this, she believes a terrible lie that a lot of us also suffer from: we deserve every bit of hurt and shame we hold.

So, in future versions of The Memory Jumper, get ready to meet Colette. She’s a gem. And she’s in need of love and adventure, just like Adelaide.

Published by Amanda Brown

22-year-old INFP who names inanimate objects, loves to laugh, and is a proud old soul. You can often find her planning out her next crazy project, hugging books, or telling stories about her day that *may* be a little exaggerated.

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