Book Proposal Update

As Miley Cyrus says, "it's the climb!"

I’ve dreamed of writing a book since elementary school. Over the years, that dream has taken many shapes. At one point, it was a YA novel (I might revisit this). After college, it shifted into a guide for people like me—those who didn’t grow up as a member of the coastal elite or go to designer college—on navigating life in New York. I imagined writing the book I desperately needed when I landed my first job at Condé Nast, trying to find my footing in a sea of Gucci loafers. Maybe a chapter about that era (I lasted 9 months) will make its way into my current project.

photo evidence of me reporting live from one world trade in 2016

For a long time, I thought I had arrived at this dream alone, but my friend Allen Gannett’s book The Creative Curve reminded me that no creative dream lives in a vacuum. His book explores how creativity isn’t just an innate gift but a skill developed through a balance of familiarity and novelty. The most successful creative ideas hit a “sweet spot”—something recognizable yet fresh. His research shows that great creators aren’t just born with talent; they immerse themselves in relevant work, recognizing patterns and trends.

Prince immediately comes to mind. This past summer, my family and I visited his estate, Paisley Park, in Minneapolis, and I left with a deeper understanding of what shaped him. Prince’s parents were musicians, and he spent countless hours watching his father perform. Yes, he was a musical genius, but he lived and breathed music from an early age. Music surrounded his childhood, and he added his flair to what he observed to create music I still listen to today.

Not to compare myself to Prince (as if), but I grew up surrounded by words. My mom, an eighth-grade English teacher, always talked and read to me as a kid. When Maya Angelou spoke at the Masonic Temple in Dayton in 2004, my mom ensured we were there. She’s also why I saw Elie Wiesel speak at my alma mater, Kent State, in 2013—she taught Night in her class. As a pre-teen, I spent a solid amount of time on the Dayton Metro Library website, reserving stacks of YA novels that my parents would drive me to pick up. I devoured everything from The Clique and Gossip Girl to Prep (which recently turned 20!). Looking back, I realize my dream of writing wasn’t a coincidence.

Now, I owe you an update.

First, I want to say how grateful I am for my people—my family, my friends, my former co-workers. Thank you for always asking about my book proposal. Sometimes, I’ve felt embarrassed by my progress (or lack thereof), but knowing you’re anticipating this project keeps me going. I kid you not—I keep screenshots of your texts for the days when doubt creeps in and I start questioning whether my story matters or if I have any business writing a book.

I am not above validation lol

Since my book idea is nonfiction, a proposal is the first step. And let me tell you, it’s work. A book proposal isn’t just a pitch. It’s a full document outlining the book’s premise, why the market needs it, my author bio, a detailed chapter breakdown, a marketing plan, a comparative analysis, chapter summaries, and sample chapters. Lately, I’ve been laser-focused on refining those sample chapters, ensuring they showcase my voice.

Now that you know what goes into a proposal, you can see why this has taken me so long. In addition to this project, I’ve still been working on my podcast and have a full-time job. But I’m finally getting it to a place that feels right. From here, the next step is sending it out, hoping to land an agent and, eventually, a publisher.

I’ll share more updates as I have them, but in the meantime, I’m sitting at my laptop, working on this proposal and writing for you on Substack. I think the kids call this “locking in.”

More soon!

As always, thank you for reading Define Normal. Please feel free to send me a message to continue the conversation. Otherwise, you can find me on IG, TikTok, or the Define Normal podcast.