Canceling My Own Book: Or, Knowing When to Do the Right Thing

I wrote a book last year called The King of Flowers. Chances are you haven’t heard much about it as I’ve only mentioned it a few times. It’s a darker work, about mental health and gaslighting and coming back from the brink. When the lead character, Shane, was a teenager, he went through an event that opens the book and shows how he and another boy met, and then were torn apart and then reunited as adults. This book was a sort of retelling of Peter Pan, though with less fantasy and more gritty realism. It does have a happy ending of sorts, but it is by far not the happiest thing I’ve written. It’s not even about the angst or anything like that: it’s fucked up, and I don’t shy away from that.

I hem and haw with whether I even like the book. It’s different, more in line with the Immemorial Year series than any of my other works, but there is a coldness to it I didn’t anticipate. None of the characters are very likable, and that’s kind of the point. People make shitty decisions, and then have to deal with the fallout. And the fallout is big: a smoking crater where a large bomb exploded on their lives.

But I could have pushed through this. Not everything I write will be embraced by everyone. I knew going into it this book wouldn’t sell as well as say, Cerulean or Green Creek or any of my other titles. I don’t like to write thinking about how well a book would do, more focusing on the story itself. But even as I did that, I knew this would push a lot of buttons and it would be very divisive.

So why am I shelving it?

Because one of the side characters is a cop. A Sheriff, in fact. He’s not either of the main characters, but he is present throughout the entire story. This book doesn’t have a “villain” per se, but if it did, this character would be it. He is antagonistic, disbelieving and at times, downright cruel. He was the former bully of the main character, and though he’s grown up, he’s still used to being in charge, given that his father was the sheriff before him, and his grandfather before that. Nepotism runs deep in this story.. He is not violent, he does not touch another character in a way that means harm, but he is a cop, and his presence is felt throughout, an ominous thing that hangs over the story.

He is so intrinsically tied into the narrative that removing him would leave the story with a gaping hole right in the middle. He’s not holding the story up, but it would partially collapse without him. And it absolutely does not help that the other main character, Aggie, is biracial, from a white father and a Black mother. The relationship between Aggie and the cop is contentious, with Aggie being…well. Not mystical, but having some sort of power that the cop does not believe in. As such, the cop believes Aggie is lying, and sets out to prove that he is. This is partly where the tension from the story comes from, this push and pull, and Shane is caught in the middle. (And no, this is not a love-triangle. The cop character is straight and married.) Again, there is no violence between the cop character and any other character, but he is menacing, and it’s not a good thing.

Now is not the time for this book. I don’t know if there ever will be a time for the way the book is now. I woke up this morning to news that another cop had shot another Black man in Kenosha, Wisconsin seven times and in front of his children who were still in the car. Last I could tell, the man—Jacob Blake—is still alive, but this is a never-ending cycle of violence that I, as a white dude, don’t know how to help stop.

After The Extraordinaries, I continue to take a long, hard look at how I do things, how I write. I’m not caving to pressure, as some of you seem to think. I’m doing what I’m doing because it’s the right thing to do. I still wrestle with it, wanting to believe that fiction is just that: fiction. But honestly? That’s a weak excuse, because that’s not how things work. For some reason, people continue to read my words, and I have to think about what is right for me, and the type of stories I want to tell, and the messages I want to put out into the world.

Which is why I’m canceling this book, at least how it is now. If I was going to put this story out, I’d need to rewrite it from the ground up. I still believe there is a story to tell there, but for the life of me, I can’t see it right now. This book isn’t with any publisher, but it was on my schedule for a potential 2022 release. I’m removing that, and will have another title to take its place. I want to get some distance from it, and one day, hopefully decide it’s worth salvaging, and will see if I can figure out how to rework it.

And this is my decision, and my decision alone. Again, this book wasn’t on any publisher schedule, and I wouldn’t lose out on much by shelving it, aside from the time I spent writing it last year. Some of you might think this is me being pressured into changing how I write, or worse, think that I’m falling to what some of you sneer derisively as being Social Justice Warriors.

I’m not here to change your mind. Frankly, if that’s what you think, then that’s on you, not me. And for what it’s worth, you’re wrong. I made this decision after giving it quite a bit of thought, and ultimately realizing it was the right thing to do. I said before that words have power. I believe that with all my might. I don’t want to hinder. I don’t want to hurt. I want to help, and if that means I put this book aside, then so be it. I have a billion other stories I can’t wait to tell. The King of Flowers might end up being one I come back to and rework, but for now, I’m going to let it go and see what other ideas I have in my weird brain.

That doesn’t mean I’ll shy away from telling stories how I want to tell them. Most of my books don’t have cops in them. I was never very interested in that profession for my characters, so it’s not as if there will suddenly be this massive shift in the way I tell stories, as it might need to happen for some authors. (For real, do you know how many books have cops as main characters in them? Mysteries, thrillers, romance, all of it. There is going to be a huge shift, and I do honestly feel for the authors facing a reckoning of their own and how they tell their stories—but it’s necessary.) I’m just going to be thinking more critically about the hows and the whys of storytelling. Don’t worry. There is plenty more to come.

Thanks for reading,

tj

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Comments from old website:

Mal
Your honesty is inspiring and heartfelt. I appreciate your Thoughtfulness around these issues. You do you, and own it buddy. I like your thinking. I love your writing. And if you aren’t feeling it, then how you describe your process is exactly how my hubby, a writer, has felt too.
At least we have Green Creek coming. Yippee!
And I’ve been spreading the Extraordinaries everywhere. You gotta be feeling good about that, right? Hugs mate, Mal

Pilar
Me gusta tú extraño cerebro, escribe como quieras y como sienta tú corazón. Te amaré siempre.

Katherine
As a person of color, I appreciate the thought you are putting behind this. I read The Extraordinaries and loved it. But being considerate of what some of your readers might be struggling with because of what is going on is a great way to be an ally.

Jenifer
Each thing has his own time to be, soon or later, just let it be in the right space/time.

Shane
I'm really proud of you TJ. Sometimes it's seemingly small things like these types of decisions that can actually help to be impactful (or at the very least mitigate harm). You do good work and one of the things I've always appreciated is your desire to positively portray marginalized groups and handle sensitive situations. Much love! <3

Ms Larvik
Do as you want it's your work! I am happy to read whatever you write.

Vonda Banks
There comes a time when you have to do right for yourself and not be concerned about others.

Maggie J
But... will there be another Immemorial Year?

Laura Castrillon
You are a good example for white people and how they should act in these times of xenophobia.

Teresa
Good for you...x

Matthew Condello
Now all I wanna do is read this story.

Gerette Braunsdorf
I’ve said it before and I’m sure I’ll say it again: you, TJ Klune, are a mensch.