Firstly, thank you to Samantha for inviting me to talk about my novel. Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda: A Novel Approach to Dating is the polygamous union of chicklit, choosable path novels and self-help books.
The idea began soon after the He’s Just Not That Into You craze. It was the first dating book I’d ever read, and like many, I was sure it had turned me into a dating pro (before promptly forgetting everything in it).
Not long after, while with girlfriends at a Toronto bar, I met a guy we’ll call Leo. In a three-piece suit, he introduced himself a grocery store stock boy, and I told him I was a moderately priced call girl. The flirty banter was off and running, and soon Leo invited us to at party his friends were hosting at another bar. We agreed, stopping by his house so he could change.
While we waited, my friend pointed out a thick black book with gold leaf pages. I immediately recognized it as The Game by Neil Strauss, which I’d heard described as the “quintessential guide to picking up women.” Leo had roommates, so I didn’t think much of it. It may not even have been his.
At the second bar, Leo was a different. He spent most of his time talking to female friends, only seeming to return if another guy was talking to me. He gave me weird compliments, telling me I had pretty eyes, but that I blink a lot (probably in disbelief, but whatever), or that I’d look good with shorter hair.
It got old quick and we left inside an hour. Leo was shocked. Why were we leaving? Something he said? I didn’t want to make a scene or appear needy, so I wished him a goodnight. And, because I’m a sucker, I gave him my number.
Unfortunately for Leo, he hit dial before returning the phone to his shirt pocket, leaving me a recording of him telling his gal pals that he’d been the perfect gentleman and that I must have been insecure. I left him a liquid courage-fueled voicemail about his phone-pax, and that was that.
Curious, I ordered a copy of The Game, and took Amazon up on its fateful suggestion that I pair it with The Rules to save on shipping. Within 10-15 pages, I pulled out a handful of techniques Leo used on me, including the doting on other women, ignoring me, and backhanded compliments (called “negs”), as well as inviting me to another bar! I had to laugh.
Then I read the The Rules start to finish. The three dating books I’d read were enough to leave me confounded. There was an incredible volume of contradictory and confusing advice. I thought, “How does anyone keep this straight, let along put it in practice?”
I was struck with the idea of a satirical novel based on dating advice and culture, written in a choosable-path format that allowed the reader as many do-overs as she wanted! Then I filed it in my Great Idea I’ll Never Execute box.
Seven years ago, when I began dating my now spouse, I was incredibly insecure. Partly due to previous relationship noise, and third-party commentary – mostly about my gorgeous boyfriend who was a regular Harlequin cover model perpetually surrounded by beautiful women. Back to the written word I went!
The piece of advice that stood out as easy enough to employ with little backlash was, Stop calling him. It seemed silly at first, but two days later, I never had to call him again. Who knew?
This rekindled my interest in the book. I became convinced that there was a huge market for it, not just made up self-helpers or women who believed they were particularly skilled at relationships, but also women who wanted to try something new and step into a literary role-playing game about playing games.
It seemed daunting at first, but every literary heroine has her story: the life experiences, conflicts and emotional scars that beget misunderstandings that build angst, eventually resulting in a happy or tragic climax. The leading man has his own skeletons and baggage that get in the way, too.
So, as challenging as it would be, I knew it would work, as there was endless conflict to be found in the source material and by observing the world around me. Still, as much as I loved the idea, I had very demanding job in public relations and couldn’t see how I’d ever have the time to write it. And once again, fate stepped in.
In 2008, I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia, and it wasn’t long before the severity of my symptoms forced me to stop working all together. The next five years were hell, including new, concurrent diagnoses of chronic fatigue syndrome, and severe adrenal fatigue, and the soul-crushing process that it is fighting for insurance benefits.
Relegated to my apartment every day, cabin fever took hold and prison tan set in. I felt defeated and was seriously lacking purpose. Then I found that notebook I’d scrawled some ideas into and I thought, hey – something productive to do when I feel up to it, and it doesn’t involve Kardashians.
I read all the advice books I could get my hands on, pulling out true-to-life and conflict-worthy do’s and don’ts, and converting them to “scenarios” that presented the reader with a choice on how to proceed. Over several months, I arranged them into a story map until I had hundreds of scenarios and over fifty endings.
Next, I built the narrative around each scenario. It was difficult to create a 2nd person protagonist who had the right balance of defined/undefined characteristics, but more so to build a conflict-ridden, angsty, heart-breaky novel with one male lead, making it believable without the reader being turned off from starting over with him if things ended badly.
It took quite awhile, as the time I could work on it was dictated by my unpredictable health, but I finished the manuscript and sent it off to agents. Surprisingly, I received six requests for full manuscripts, and many partials, in just three weeks. I had wonderful feedback on the premise and my writing, but I was up against a huge obstacle: the economy.
Taking on debut authors was tough enough, but one whose book crossed three genres? No chance. A few suggested I use my PR background and publish it myself, which turned out to be a great thing.
Side effects from a nasty medication made it impossible for me to work on it for the next two years, so I’d never have been able to meet a publishing schedule. It did, however, give ebooks time to get a foothold, and let self-publishing work out its kinks.
Five year later, I’m just about ready. I’ve launched an Indiegogo.com campaign to raise funds to launch with the integrity of a traditionally published novel, hiring a great team for editing, formatting, cover design and illustrations, marketing, and other elements that will enhance the experience.
I’d love if you could stop by the Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda: A Novel Approach to Dating campaign. I’d also be incredibly grateful for your support of the project, such sharing the page with your networks.
We launch in September 2013, but you can stay up to date at my blog, Wordsmithandwesson.com, the official facebook page, or get to know the characters through their own Pinterest boards.
Thanks for reading,
Tara Reed
