Louise O'Neill: 'I couldn’t have imagined what the world would look like by the time my book would be ready for publication'
My new book will be published on September 3. That’s just under three weeks away, but hey, who’s counting?
It’s my fifth novel so while I’m not exactly a hardened veteran, I do have some idea of what to expect in the lead-up to publication.
At this point, I’m also very familiar with my own patterns of behaviour. With the first two books, which were published before my recovery, I claimed not to notice any nerves (“I’m fine! Totally fine!” I kept saying) although I was struggling to sleep, an ugly rash had broken out all across my back, and I would restrict my food intake heavily.
With the next two, which were published while I was in recovery, I didn’t use any eating disorder behaviours to muzzle the anxiety and I was almost felled by my nerves. Marian Keyes says that before a new book is published, she wakes at 2am and has to restrain herself from emailing her agent, requesting all available copies be burned.
This is an impulse I can identify with, as you become hyper aware that this little Word document you’ve been tinkering with for the last couple of years is about to go out into the world. You suddenly remember what’s to come - reviews!
People finding you on social media to explain in minute detail why you’re s**t and should cut off your hands rather than write anything ever again! REVIEWS!
(I know I said reviews twice, but imagine how you’d feel if your performance assessment was published in a national newspaper where everyone from your childhood nemesis to your ex-boyfriend could read it. It sends a shiver down your spine, doesn’t it?!) All in all, it’s a nerve-racking time. Usually.
But there aren’t usual times, are they? I came up with the idea for this book in June 2018.
The summer of 2019, I was knee-deep in edits, trying to wrestle a messy first draft into submission. I couldn’t have imagined what the world would look like by the time it would be ready for publication. I know I’m not the only one.
I find myself in my local Londis or post office and I turn to see the queue of people behind me, with their facemasks on and smelling faintly of hand sanitiser, and I feel a jolt of something that’s not quite fear, but something close to it. The “New Normal”, I suppose, and how quickly we’ve adjusted to it.
A book is of little importance right now, no matter how hard I’ve worked on it. When people ask how I’m feeling so close to publication, I’m not sure how to respond any more. It’s difficult to feel excited or nervous. Everything is so different – there will be no UK tour, the book launch will be digital, I won’t be doing physical signings for the time being. This is my new normal.
I’ve been reluctant to take part in the What Have you Learned During Lockdown? conversations. This isn’t an original observation but the question is so indicative of our capitalist society. Why do we feel under pressure to be productive? Why do we have to learn something from this in order to make it worthwhile? And why does a global pandemic that brought the world to its knees and killed thousands of people have to be ‘worthwhile’?
I didn’t come out of lockdown with a new book or screenplay written. I didn’t learn a new language or take up piano lessons.
I was one of the lucky ones – I didn’t lose my job; my loved ones are healthy and well – and I still found it difficult. I survived lockdown and honestly, I think that’s good enough. But it’s been interesting to see the difference in my attitude towards my book launch at the end of it all.
It’s not that I care less; After the Silence is my favourite of all the books I’ve written and I want it to do well, I want it to find its readers. I think – I hope - that it deserves that. But if 2020 has taught me anything, it’s that so much of what happens next is outside of my control.
I’ve been reciting similar lines for a long time now but for once, it actually feels true. Is this perspective? Is this what Covid-19 has given me? Whatever it is, I’m ready to put this book out into the world and let the chips fall where they may. I’ve done all the hard work, now I have to leave it up to the universe.
Ten years ago, I got my first tattoo. The words, “Let Go” scrawled in a cursive script on my inner wrist. I feel ready to do that. Or maybe it’s just that I finally realised, after all this time, that I don’t have another choice.
Not Without My Sister. This podcast, featuring sisters Rosemary and Beatrice MacCabe talking about their relationship, is both incredibly specific and surprisingly universal. It’s also funny, warm, and charming.
Red at the Bone by Jacqueline Woodson. This book looks at how a teenage pregnancy impacts three generations of a family. It deals with ambition, desire, race, class, and the difficulty of mother-daughter relationships with an impressive lightness of touch.
