PTSD and 1st anniversary refelctions

It's been a long time since I last blogged, but there are lots of reasons to get behind my computer and write today.

For one thing, it's the one year anniversary of The Boy in the Hoodie being officially released into the world.

It's been such a long journey that it feels surreal that it has only been one year. In my mind, The Boy in the Hoodie is much older than just one year. It was birthed during the month of November (during NaNoWriMo) four years ago. So in some in some ways, today I'm also remembering the novel's conception all those years ago.

But today I don't want to focus on the novel, The Boy in the Hoodie, so much as I do on one aspect of the protagonist, Kat, as we find her at the end of the novel. Due to her experiences, in the end we are given some insight into her journey with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). The scenes that show some of what Kat went through with her PTSD are not completely fiction. I am an outsider looking in, watching my own daughter go through her own PTSD experience.

And I've got to tell you, some days it is crazy, super difficult to watch on from the outside.

In my paid job, as an Inclusive Education Teacher, I speak to a lot of parents about their experiences with their children growing up. I've listened to them speak about the realisation that there was something different about their child, that their experiences as a parent were different from those of their friends around them. And then, come the diagnosis, they speak of the steep learning curve of trying to work out what exactly the diagnosis means for them and their child, and some of the grief that comes with that. It's not easy to watch your child struggle. It's not obvious how you should parent them now. It isn't easy to sift through the myriad of information we now have available to us (thanks to Google) and find what is true, what strategies are appropriate, and what is going to work for your family. Every day seems to be trial and error of working out this new reality.

I had no idea when I began working as an Inclusive Ed Teacher that I would come to know first hand what it was like to be one of those parents. But it happened. After a year of counselling sessions and psychologist visits, followed by a few trips to a terrific local psychiatrist, my daughter was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and Social Anxiety.

Fast forward a couple of years to last night, my daughter and I sat in the toilet cubicle together (yes, I crawled under the door to get to her, because I love and care for her that much) and formulated a plan for the evening. It was all I could do to not cry with her as she talked about how difficult the night was and how much she really, really, didn't want to do it. And the truth was, she didn't have to do it. She could have retreated to the car and not walked up on stage to get her awards. She could have sat outside and not watched her amazing and beautiful friends received their leadership positions for next year. She could have buried her head in the proverbial sand tried to pretend it wasn't happening. But instead, I watched my incredibly strong and brave daughter do exactly what she did not want to do.

And yes, I cried. While my best friend sat beside me so excited, as she knew her son would shortly be named School Captain for 2019, I cried. And she still managed to support me. I shouldn't have needed it. I should have been stronger. I wish I could have been more brave.

And so this is where my pride resides: Not in the multitude of academic awards my daughter received last night, but in the fact that she was there. She got up on stage. With all the braveness a young woman can muster, she shook her teacher's hand, walked across the stage and took up her position with her cohort. And she continued to stand in front of all those people until it was time to walk off the stage. And then, she walked back into the auditorium to watch her best friends (and she has a heck of a lot of really top quality, amazing friends) take out award after award and the positions of responsibilities as the 2019 leaders of the school. My heart screamed for her, knowing it would be hurting her to be there watching (and to not be up there, joining in with them). My emotions streamed down my face as I ran through all the what-ifs of her life and asked yet again, for the hundredth time, why God has put it on her to carry this burden. I know His ways are perfect. I know His plan for her is to prosper her. I know she has already handed over her plans for her life into His safe hands. I know it is not my fault she has PTSD. I know. I know. I know.

Today is a new day. And so today, for me, is very much about celebrating my daughter and her incredible strength and resilience. I am so immensely proud of her. I hope you see some of that in Kat, too, as you read the final chapters of The Boy in the Hoodie. The way she pressed on and stayed true to who she had become and worked around her PTSD to achieve the goals she had placed before her. And I hope you noticed the joy and the pride from Kat's family as they rallied around her to help her see the amazing young lady she was becoming.

So instead of writing more short stories and doing some advertising for The Boy in the Hoodie, which was what I had planned for today, instead I'm going to take my daughter out for lunch. We'll go op shopping and hang out and spend the day recovery from the exhaustion that was the 2018 Academic Awards Ceremony. And I'll continue to be incredibly grateful to have such a daughter, who is so giving of herself and her talents, and who will continue to be my inspiration when writing strong female characters who push on through hardship with kindness and determination.

Photo: *Insert photo of my daughter* But I won't include a photo, because although she gave me her permission to write about her PTSD, she doesn't need the world to know exactly who it is I'm writing about. Instead, picture a beautiful girl with long brown hair and a smile that lights up a room when she walks into it - sorry, I know that's cliched, but I'm sure the someone who penned that cliche did so with her in mind.

It is the 1st anniversary release day. Have you not read The Boy in the Hoodie and want a copy? Find me on Social Media and send me a message and I'll see what I can do to get you one.

You can connect with Catriona through social media here

On getting published: Pt 2 Actual publication

In my last blog, I talked about my journey to publication, with the first part being about the writing and editing of the The Boy in the Hoodie. I ended the blog with the reminder that getting published is like the tip of the iceberg, where most of the iceberg is hidden under the water. If you haven’t read about all the ground work that goes into preparing for publication, I suggest you might like to go back and read that blog first. Then come back and read about this, more exciting, part. :)

After having written and edited The Boy in the Hoodie, and decided it was right to start sending to publishers (which, by the way, I never really thought it was ready, but I don’t think I ever would have thought it was!), I simply googled publishers in Australia. In my google search, I found a number of Australian publishers who were accepting unsolicited manuscripts at the time. They were varied in their expectations. Some only accepted them on particular days, or during particular months of the year. There were a couple who were running competitions where you could enter your manuscript and the winner would get published. I was surprised at how many opportunities were around.

However, there is some controversy amongst authors as to whether this is a good way to submit a manuscript. Some bloggers were quite scathing of these sorts of submissions. Others said it was more important to find a good agent, than to pursue a publisher. I took all this into consideration, but in the end decided I would send the manuscript to two publishers. One was Text Publishing, who have published one of my favourite Australian authors, Graham Simsion. The other was Rhiza Press, who I knew preferred family-friendly novels and at the time were only accepting YA manuscripts. They’d also previously published the winners of the CALEB prize, so I figured I was in with a chance with them.

I carefully read over the submission guidelines of both publishers. Their requirements were different. Rhiza Press, for example, wanted the first three chapters, and then another chapter from the novel. Both Publishers wanted a full synopsis (and writing that, in itself, is a long and difficult task!). They also both wanted a personal CV related to my writing. It was here that the entries into competitions (not only for The Boy in the Hoodie, but for Dangerous Exchanges as well), and the success I’d had, was very helpful. I had also had numerous short stories published online that I could provide links to. I was also able to mention that I’d done a short course at The Writing Stuido. I also took quotes from my readers, some of the positive words they had written in response to having read the manuscript, and included them in my cover letter. All these things gave reason for the publisher to at least look at what I’d sent in to them.

The publishing houses didn’t promise much. They both said I could expect a three month wait before hearing if they were interested in reading more. Rhiza Press allowed me to submit online. Text Publishing wanted a hard copy. I submitted to both and started to play the waiting game.

But within two weeks I’d heard from Rhiza Press, asking for the rest of the manuscript. I madly finished the rest of the edits I wanted to make before sending in the full manuscript (after all, I thought I had a couple of months to get those final edits done!) and submitted it all. A couple of weeks later, I received an offer of a contract for publication.

I was at school at the time. Normally I don’t carry my mobile phone with me at school, but for some reason I’d grabbed it when I’d gone off to class to see a student. The student wasn’t able to be released from class for a few minutes, so I sat outside the classroom and checked my personal emails while I waited. And there it was - in my Inbox - an offer of contract from Rhiza Press. I rushed to the staff toilets and cried. :) Then I pulled myself together and went back to work. :)

My husband and I spent the weekend looking over the contract. We googled publishing contracts to see what was normal, and what to look out for (pretty novice, hey!), before I signed it and sent it to them.

About a month after all that happened, I got an email from Text Publishing - a lovely rejection letter, saying they’d read The Boy in the Hoodie with interest but would not be pursuing publication at this time. It was amazing for them to have even let me know, and very encouraging to know they’d read my submission.

And so began the next stage of the editing process. I was offered the contract from Rhiza Press at the beginning of the year, and spent most of the year revising and making changes suggested by my editors. Many edits were simply formatting. Other suggestions were fairly major, such as removing a chapter they felt was slowing the story down. It was an amazing learning experience. In many respects it was a difficult year, as I was working four days a week as a teacher, studying a Masters degree, one of my daughters was having major panic attacks and was consequently diagnosed with Social Anxiety, plus my husband has long-term health issues, so I was a little time poor. But I learned so much and as a result I believe I’ll be a better writer for my next novel.

The Boy in the Hoodie was released on November 1st 2017. Fitting, since I had written it in November three years earlier. Three years of editing. Three years my baby. It’s lovely to have it on the shelf and to be able to explore other characters and ideas again. I love the writing stage and am excited to be back in it. And I can’t wait to share my next story idea with the world again. Should I ever get this new one finished.

Thanks for reading. If you’re interested in connecting with Catriona, you can look her up on Facebook, or find out more at her website: catrionamckeown.com.au