2023, it cannot be overstated, was a terrible year for me. We started out strong with an episode of True Love that turned out in fact to be entirely false and not reciprocated. (I've got over that, finally, but it was awkward... I posted about it a bit at the time, along with a lot of what I'm about to tell you.) Anyway, I also basically didn't eat for two weeks in January: only partially related to that. February was even more terrible, but with one bright spot: the terribleness pushed me to finally seek professional help for my longstanding anorexia. I was finally going to choose to recover and it would never bother me again.
Haha anyway I was also severely depressed and anxious so that happened. I had a good solid try at recovery and it seemed like it was going pretty well for a while, yay. Went back to uni after a year out, in the middle of the year. Ended up living with my brother 'just for the semester and after that you've got to find your own accommodation' (I'm still at his place). Anyway things got real bad and I honestly can't remember most of that patch, but I can still see the scars.
Anyway. You're probably wondering why I'm saying this stuff. In November, December, I can't remember precisely when, the Inklings Christmas challenge got posted.
Severely depressed, barely doing anything, only surviving and waiting for things to get better while doctors assessed me to figure out what was going on behind the major depressive disorder (spoiler: undiagnosed ASD), I said, well, why not. I still had remnants of my previous overachieving nature, so why not write something for all twelve days of Christmas, not just a single short story or scene? And I dug back in my memory for the fragments of a plot I worked out when I was twelve years old, remembered the characters, remembered that the main character was one I'd internally laughed about accidentally making autistic in the past.
So I went, what if I just pretend that the story I'd imagined was five years earlier, pretend that the novel I had never written was actually written, and write a slice-of-life sequel to it, featuring the same characters? I remember going to a session with my psych at the time and telling her about this story, but vaguely and quickly, because we were going to run out of time. I talked like I intended to and expected to finish it, but internally, I was going: I will not finish it. I've already proven that I cannot stick to things. (I have a lot of fragments of writing from that year which I will likely never finish, and which had no deeper structure than whatever occurred to my medication addled brain.)
And I went, what should I name this story? It's got to have the word Patience in there, because her name is Patience and it amuses me and amusement is running real freaking thin at the moment. I tried out several titles, none of which I can remember, and none of them suited. At last, because the word hope had been rotating within my brain for so long, I picked The Patience of Hope, and I drew graphics and titled all the chapters and did research to title them and I can't remember any of it anymore so I don't know why I gave them the titles I did.
I think I scheduled about chapter three before chapter one dropped on Christmas Day. I remember there being author's notes that at least hinted that I'd entirely pre-written it, because I'd intended to do so, when I wrote the author's note for the very first chapter. But most of them I wrote on the day they were supposed to drop.
I don't think anyone read it at the time; I certainly don't remember such a thing happening, though after it was completed people did read it, and do still. (It's still on my website, and also on my ao3 under the title mentioned above.) But I wrote it, this silly little thing that spawned a whole character and series of novellas I haven't finished yet. More than one character, actually; one of the main characters is Nathan, who didn't exist in my original concept at all. And another character mentioned is Hannah, her aunt, whose storyline is deeply personal to me.
I can't remember how long it is. The writing is at times very bad and the storyline vague and choppy. I had no true plans when I started writing that story: not even to finish it. It does qualify as a novella for length, but I forget where in that wide range it comes in. But I finished it.
That... meant the world to me, actually, in the state I was in. I finished it in January, and two weeks later I was being very seriously told by my doctor that if anything got any worse, in any way, I was to immediately present to emergency and request/demand admission. They didn't; I was prescribed medication that, this time, actually helped to manage the whole crisis thing going on, and I haven't been that close to an admission since (nor needed to be, not really).
So The Patience of Hope is very special to me, as you can see, because I completed it at a time I felt so strongly that I couldn't complete anything except - well, I don't suppose I have to elaborate. It's a fun, fluffy little story with underlying angst and stress and grief but above it all, it's cheerful. A romance begins, which surprised me, because I was literally just writing whatever came into my head, and apparently what came into my head was a character who hadn't been previously mentioned or thought of, asking Patience out on a date.
And the way Nathan accepts and understands and loves Patience for herself and not for what he hopes that she will be (if my phrasing seems odd, it's a Carpenters reference - "Love Me For What I Am") was healing to write. The entire story was written between when I started being assessed for ASD and when I was officially diagnosed, and I can really really see in Patience's words what I felt and still do sometimes feel - the hesitation and uncertainty and distrust of oneself. She was the first character I ever wrote who was stated to be autistic, though I'd written ones before deliberately making them autistic in my head, but they never said they were autistic on the page.
I don't remember the timeframe of the next bit, but there was a writing challenge to write a novel from start to finish in - six months, I think? It was a while. - and I saw it and went, oh, I could go back and write the novel about Patience that I first conceptualised.
Which I did, over the next few months. From start to finish, that draft is eighty-four thousand words in its current, unedited form, and I expect it to end up somewhere between eighty and ninety thousand - I always edit down on a sentence level, and up on a scene and chapter level, so it tends to balance out somewhat. Especially the earlier sections, it's pretty sparse before I hit my stride, and I also struggled to finish it in a way that felt satisfying to me, and I need to build up the community aspect more - and introduce her aunt Hannah more throughout.
What's the novel about, you may ask? And don't ask for the title, because I made a working title, and I haven't figured out a proper replacement yet. The novel is about Patience at a younger age, I forget what; early teens, I think, self-isolating and shy and scared and very very rigid. (It's a lot of fun comparing the Patience of this novel to the much more relaxed, but still characteristic Patience of The Patience of Hope five or seven years later. She's the same person, only grown up rather, and in a very positive way.)
In a mechanism I haven't yet worked out properly and will definitely be rewriting, she unexpectedly gains an adoptive sister, Rhona - named after a tea cosy in a pattern book I used when I was eleven or twelve to knit an atrocious and very wonky stuffed dog. Anyway, Rhona is a bit younger, a bit more extroverted, a bit prettier and a bit more new and exciting. And a bit disruptive to Patience's neatly ordered life.
Cue emotional explosions I'd compare to Holly and Lucy in Lockwood and Co., and say it was based on that, if I'd read that before I planned this book out. Rhona is doing her best to fit in to the family, but she's also showing up Patience's inability to fit in, so there's insecurity tying in to it.
Patience spends most of the book hating her with a passion of greater or lesser intensity despite everything Rhona tries to do to bridge the gap. And then, in a move unrepentantly stolen from Jean Webster's Dear Enemy, the house burns down. Oh, the horror! Oh, the shock! Oh, the fact that Patience was the only one within range of Rhona and had to drag her out! Oh, the hospital whump afterwards! *coughs* Forget I said that last one. Anyway Rhona gets off pretty lightly, while Patience... does not get off so lightly. She spends a while in hospital, but luckily, the combination of everything brings her and Rhona together finally, and they all live happily ever after.
Well, that's what the original plan said, anyway. Back when I was twelve and didn't know interpersonal dynamics.
While it's true that the house burning down and everything associated with that does help Patience and Rhona to get along better, that's not the end of the book. The house burns down at the turn between parts two and three, fifty-three thousand words in. Any mathematicians reading this will observe there are still thirty thousand words to go. There are nine chapters in each part.
The last three chapters total fifteen thousand words between them. My original plan calls for three thousand word chapters. Again, the mathematicians are going to observe that this doesn't add up. These chapters average out five thousand words each.
That's because I really wanted to mention one specific character earlier in the novel, who gets a passing and no longer timeline compliant mention in The Patience of Hope. Patience's aunt Hannah, who, yes, I named after myself, and who also struggles with anorexia nervosa.
Chapter twenty-five is titled, "A Will to Live". Originally intended to be about Patience's depression following her discharge from hospital after the house burned down, and then regaining her mental equilibrium, it became a bitter sarcasm that hurt every time I re-read the title while I was drafting it.
(I did cry quite a bit about this, including while actively writing. Sobbing and still writing the next sentence. I hope it comes across in the final work.)
Because Hannah does not win her battle. She is not a success story, or a happy ending, or a triumph. She dies alone in an apartment that hasn't been cleaned for weeks, fridge almost empty: two days before she's agreed to go into treatment. There are three big killers in anorexia: suicide, heart failure and malnutrition. And Hannah Shepherd dies of heart failure, leaving, as I heard in a video I strongly do not recommend, recently, "a bleeding, girl-shaped hole in her family".
It's traumatic and horrible and full of grief, but they manage somehow to go on. Patience is kept in the dark as to what's going on, at Hannah's request; she just knows that she died of some sickness. After all, she's at THE prime age to develop an eating disorder of her own, and even though you'd think someone dying would make you reconsider, unfortunately, eating disorders are mental illnesses and don't discriminate. (Besides, I wrote this story, and Karen Carpenter is a special interest of mine. Doesn't stop me relapsing.)
And then three chapters later (though, realistically, I'm going to rearrange the chapter balance to add at least one more here, since I struggled to fill a few of the chapters in terms of word count), the story's over, and everything is okay - just okay, not good, but with hope that it will be.
The first draft has been finished for - I don't know how long. Looking back to former posts makes it seem like I finished it on the last day of April last year, which would make it eight months and 21 days since I completed the draft. I think that's long enough to go back and redraft, don't you? I was working on continuing to draft Vaniah's story, but given that it's not singing to me right now, maybe I should jump in to editing this and see where I get to - I can always go back to Vaniah and Anneka instead, even though I've left them at a profoundly difficult spot. (While we're on the topic of dying from anorexia? Yeah. Except that is a story of recovery and hope.)
All that to say, you might hear more about Patience, and Rhona, and Jude, and Marcia, and Hannah, and Nathan, and everyone else that makes that story what it is, soon. I've been thinking a lot about it lately, and I really do think Patience's story needs to be refined, so that eventually I can show the world. If anyone wants, I can pull out excerpts too, if I'm brave enough. Please tell me your favourite aspect of this story, whether the novel or The Patience of Hope or whatever it may be. Ask me questions. I can ramble. Please.
