I don’t know if I had a latent desire to write a novel one day. Was it something I secretly wished for but never thought I could actually do? I placed in, and  even won, some poetry and short story competitions at uni. But I was studying Science. My life was taken over by field research and a 50,000 word thesis on the role of ants in ecosystem regeneration in an Endangered Ecological Community that was being practically decimated thanks to mining. Sometimes I wonder what the fate of those ants is now… Well, the ones that survived my pitfall traps that killed them by the hundreds, that is, all so I could slowly lose my mind spending endless hours in the lab, trying to classify them all under the microscope. Believe it or not, I still think that year holds the crown for hardest year of my life. Some beautiful moments amongst it all too though. Like most things in this ever-nuanced life, nothing is all good or all bad.

Then, a couple of years later, while working in environmental policy for the Australian Government (which I loved), or perhaps after I moved into Biosecurity (which I hated), I started moonlighting as a music journalist. I couldn’t believe I got to go out to whatever gigs I wanted, for free, and with a plus one too, then got to write about them! Although I had to quickly learn the skill of convincing the ticket staff that I was who I said I was when it turned out that somewhere between the PR people, the venue people and my editor, the memo to put my name on the door got lost. I did that for the next four years, picking up new publications when I moved to London. I kept doing it right up until the 7th of August, 2017, when I swapped my little black notebook, my industry contacts, and the home phone numbers of some of my musical heroes (for interviews, that was, I’m not (really) a stalker), for this very blog. What started as a way to keep family and friends updated has reached so far beyond where I ever imagined it could. It really blows my mind, and I am forever grateful to all you wonderful people for reading my words.

But a novel? 110,000 words, with a plot line and… an ending (the scariest part!)? The idea didn’t take root until mid 2019, when I took a couple of short courses with ‘Write Like A Girrrrrl’, when I realised a novel is really just a word that follows another, and a sentence that sits alongside one more. There aren’t magical people who are destined to be writers, there are only people who write, and those who don’t. It was really only me standing in my own way, and life is hard enough as it is, without also holding ourselves back; so I made the decision to stop.

I quit the soul-destroying job, and I flew to Sydney for a few months of well needed rest, and to get moving on the novel. I wrote much of the first draft from beaches, parks, swimming pools, youth hostels, cars, farms, rainforests, homesteads, hotels, rivers, cabanas, and gardens, up and down the east coast of Australia.

Then a global pandemic hit, and I got stranded in Sydney for 10 months. By the time I finally managed to get back home to London at the end of October 2020, I had a finished first draft, and some scarily increasing pain and swelling in my face, which was confirmed a few days later to be the cancer returning,  And shortly after, we were saying a hasty goodbye to my eye, cheekbone and previous reconstruction.

Through the next few years of recurrences and treatments, I kept working on the novel. A second draft became a third draft, an external edit added on many more months of work than I’d expected, as I tried to unravel the damage she caused. A few close friends read it, and my parents and brother too (Ma takes the crown for most times read), and brushing the editor aside, the feedback I was getting was good, and kept me focused and moving forward.

Draft four became draft 5, and I took a little break to finish my album in September 2022, while I was doing radiotherapy. Another edit and an external proofread done, and then I moved on to designing the cover. That was a pretty interesting process, but I was so happy with what I came up with.

Then, I moved on to typesetting  (formatting) the whole thing. I was on my FINAL proofread of the final proof copy, making sure everything was correct, when…

…The world went dark…

It wasn’t ideal timing (is it ever ideal timing to go blind?), but aside from doing that final read through, I’d otherwise got it completely ready to go. Grateful that my cuz Lina (shout-out) had just finished reading it over for me, I decided it was time to let go.

So with some final few bits of assistance from my friend Sarah and my Mum, we did it. We pressed the big red button – the one marked ‘publish’.

Like most people at times, I think, perfectionism and unrelenting high standards could have held me back forever. They would whisper to me in the dark, their voices asking how could I possibly live with myself if there was a single typo in the final copy? The good old inner critic doing its best to hold me back and keep me small, and presumably safer, if I just didn’t take the risk of putting myself and my creations out there. But that would never be enough for me. Not anymore. And say it together with me – we’re looking for DONE, not perfect.

The greatest feeling I have ever experienced is sharing the things I create with people I love, and the world. And so I am incredibly excited to be sharing this with you all! My debut novel – Rebel Rebel, by Jen Eve Taylor. It is fiction, NOT autobiographical. It is NOT a cancer memoir. You can read the blurb at the link below, and if it takes your fancy, even pick up your own copy (details included). It’s currently available in paperback from Amazon, or on Kindle.

https://jenevetaylor.com/books

I’ve been loving hearing what people think of it (and I’ve been lucky that it’s been overwhelmingly positive thus far!). I love hearing what resonates with people, and hearing what sticks with people the most. If you feel like giving it a little rating and/or review on Amazon and/or Goodreads, I would be forever grateful.