Caren Johnson Literary Agency

By Barbara Caridad Ferrer

This past week, I wrote the first chapter of a new project. The first new project I’ve begun since May and boy, does it represent a big step for me. For the first time, I’m dipping my toes into what, in some ways, could be referred to as a historical. (Set in the early 60s, so a “contemporary historical,” if you will.) This is a story I’ve had brewing for at least a year (one of those “wake up at three in the morning with the story concept fully formed” sorts of deals). But there were other projects to finish and conferences to go to and revisions to work through and frankly, this story? Scared the ever-lovin’ you know out of me—for a lot of reasons.

One big reason is I’ve always said I could never envision myself writing historicals. Not because I don’t like them—actually historical novels are what I cut my reading teeth on. When other kids were still working their way through Judy Blume, I was devouring John Jakes’ The Kent Family Chronicles and Colleen McCullough’s The Thorn Birds. I’m a huge devotee of Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander Series and probably my favorite book in the entire world is Anne Rivers Siddons’ Heartbreak Hotel, set in 1950s Alabama. In the hands of a master, the richness and detail of the worlds and time periods sucks me in and I’m completely lost.

See, this is actually why I’ve said I wasn’t sure I could ever tackle a historical—I love all the minutiae and how skillfully these authors weave fact and fiction together in a seamless fashion. As a child, I was known to read sitting near my encyclopedias so I could quickly reference the real people and events being depicted. You see where I’m going with this, yes?

I’m a geek. A ginormous, unabashed, research-loving geek. With my contemporary-set novels, I’ve been known to spend two or three days researching one small detail that may or may not be used within a throwaway line of dialogue or narrative. Imagine me with a historical? I’d get so caught up in the “Ooh! Shiny!” of the research that it’s quite possible I would never write an original word, ever again. Or worse still, that I would get so caught up in wanting to show off every single nifty fact I’d unearthed that I’d drown the manuscript in historical detail, forsaking that stuff known as plot and characterization.

It’s daunting, to say the least.

Then again, I always said I couldn’t ever imagine myself writing a young adult novel, either and we know how that worked out. I think it’s safe to say I’ve found my best success thus far with my YA novels, while my women’s fiction, the books that have always come “easier” or at the very least, more naturally to me are still waiting for their turn. It’s not that I’m any less passionate about one or the other, but more a case of it would seem I do my best work and one might even say, thrive, on challenge and a healthy dose of fear.

But if there’s one thing I’ve always said about my writing is that I want to continue to grow and improve my craft. What better way to do that than within the parameters of a personal challenge? And what’s really important is that it’s not challenge for challenge’s sake—it’s not like I sat around thinking, “Well, what should I try to do now to up the stakes?” No, this is, forgive me for sounding all granola, an organic challenge. This is the story that came to me. It’s a story where I have characters revealing themselves to me in new ways every day—where nuances and details of setting are bringing up a whole host of “what if?” questions and demanding that I research their viability.

In other words, this is a story that wants out and it doesn’t care how scared I am.

Thing is, this writing gig—it’s never without some measure of fear, at least, not for me. For me, the trick is harnessing the fear and trepidation and making it work to my advantage. Being aware of exactly what frightens me the most then tackling it, bending it to my will and not allowing that hyperawareness to cripple the process.

I won’t lie, it’s fine, fine line.

But also the best kind of rush.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, Chapter 2 awaits.