Part 1

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In June of 2014, I flew to New York specifically to have a talk with my editor about my new book.

For those of you who don't know, this is a bit of overkill. It's actually very rare for authors to board planes just to discuss book proposals. But I was in a bit of a bind. My publisher kept complaining that nothing felt "personal" enough, and they were worried about my sophomore series hitting a slump. I pitched idea after idea—I even wrote a full novel, but my agent nixed it. I was at the end of my rope.

So, I flew to New York. I decided to go in strong with one idea I liked, and I'll be honest, I was sort of at a make it or break it point. If they didn't go for this idea, I had nothing left.

I met with my agent beforehand and practiced my pitch. I had lots of papers, but I didn't end up using them. When it came time to give my editor and publisher my pitch, I sat at the small, round conference table in the Penguin offices and just spoke.

"It's about a boy who thinks he can travel through time, but the school for superheroes he's attending is actually a mental institution," I told them. I went on to describe the five characters the book would feature, including both what their super power was, and how it was parallel to a mental illness diagnosis. My girl who could control fire would be a pyromaniac. My boy who could hear the voices of ghosts was actually schizophrenic.

My publisher was very doubtful. "But what's the personal connection?" he pressed. "Why do you want to write about mental illnesses?"

And guys, I saw red. I'd worked so hard to find an idea I thought would work, and it felt like they just kept dismissing everything I said.

So I snapped. "I've got a pretty big personal connection to mental illness considering my brother died because of his."

They accepted the idea. 

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