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nanowrimo · 2 years ago

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How to Write Through Second Book Syndrome

Second Book Syndrome is a unique experience that can affect any writer. Today, author Uju Asika talks about what she learned while tackling Second Book Syndrome and gives advice on navigating it. There’s something immensely powerful about completing your first book. For a brief moment, you feel invincible. After all, pretty much everyone you meet thinks they have a book in them, but not many people actually sit down to write it.

I wrote my first book, Bringing Up Race, in the midst of a global pandemic. Writing my next book, a picture book for younger readers, was a much less stressful experience. So it was actually with my third book, aimed at grownups again, that Second Book Syndrome kicked in.

You’ve probably heard of sophomore album syndrome (see Lauryn Hill, The Stone Roses) aka the sophomore slump that, apparently, can happen to anyone from athletes to second year college students.

Second Book Syndrome isn’t talked about as much and yet it affects almost every author on some level. Whether you’re a million-copy seller, a mid-list author or a relative newbie, you grapple with the same insecurities and nightmare scenarios. How do I write something as good as or better than my last book? If my first book did well, was it just a fluke? If my first book sold poorly, is this book my last shot? Will it meet my readers’ expectations or am I going to get troll-bombed on Goodreads? Am I establishing an author brand or have I niched myself into a corner? Can I experiment with voice or will I get laughed at by critics? Do I even have it in me to write a WHOLE OTHER BOOK?

Now that you’ve finished at least one book, you might feel like you’ve got this shit nailed. But the tricky thing about writing is that every time you open a blank page, you are starting from scratch. And every time you face a blank page, you are forced to meet yourself there, again and again. No matter whether you’re writing fiction or nonfiction. There’s no escaping yourself and that’s what makes it so hard, so vulnerable and potentially, so transformative.

My latest book, Raising Boys Who Do Better: A Hopeful Guide for a New Generation, came out last month. Foolishly, I had it in the back of my mind that writing this book would be a relative breeze. In some ways, it was harder. I had so much Resistance — the negative force that pushes back when you try to do something that matters, as Steve Pressfield talks about in The War of Art.

I also had to deal with the impostor syndrome (a close cousin of Second Book Syndrome) that whispered in my ear that I didn’t have another book in me. That I had used up all my smart ideas and pretty words. That I should stick to short form content and leave the real writing to the professionals.

So how did I get over this? What can you do when you’re in the throes of Second Book Syndrome and feeling like you’ll never write another sentence again? Here are a few things that helped me:

Make a Plan

If you identify as a ‘pantser’ rather than a ‘plotter’, you’re probably shaking your head at this. But it doesn’t have to be a full proposal or outline. Your plan can be as simple as a journal entry, a short mission statement, a sentence describing your premise, or a note to self about what you’d like your reader to learn, feel and experience. Making a plan and reviewing it from time to time can help keep your project alive when you’re suffering from self-doubt, comparisonitis and other symptoms of Second Book Syndrome.

Give Yourself Permission

The only way to release yourself from the pressure of writing your next book is to liberate yourself. Give yourself permission to write badly. I mean, really really badly. Permission to write something that sounds nothing like what you wrote before. Permission to play, to dream, to procrastinate. Permission to research until your head is bursting. For every project, I always keep a notebook so I can write by hand and make a mess and scribble pages of absolute drivel. I can spend hours writing around the edges of what I’m actually trying to explore. I encourage you to start every new project by writing yourself a permission slip. When you give yourself permission, the words might stick and splutter for a while but eventually, they flow. After that, the magic is in the edit.

Drown Out the Noise

We’re surrounded by noise all day, from social media traffic to our own mental chatter to those Amazon reviews (gulp). It’s hugely distracting and can be a drain on your creativity and confidence. Look for ways to drown this out, whether that’s through meditation, writing retreats, long nature walks or journalling. My simplest trick is to put on some noise-cancelling headphones and turn the music up. This might sound counterintuitive but listening to music puts me in a headspace for writing without any filters. Also, as a mother who writes around her family life (the kitchen table is my office), I’ve used headphones for years to signal that I’m at work and to keep the cacophony of my kids at bay.

Get Drunk

When you have another book to write, it’s easy to feel lost at the beginning. What to write and how to say it? When this happens, I immerse myself in storytelling. The poet Charles Baudelaire famously said one should ‘Always Be Drunk’ and it’s a quote that I live by. I don’t mean Hemingway-style binges, I mean being drunk on stories. I consume books, podcasts, films, TV shows, songs, art shows, conversations, eavesdropping, everyday life. I feed my habit and my habit feeds my writing.

Focus on What You Can Control

Creativity is mostly trial and error. Art is subjective and you can’t control how your work will be received by an audience or by critics. Often, success hinges on an indefinable mix of luck, talent, hard work, timing, money, network, reputation and… did I mention luck? Through all this, the only thing you can control is how you show up. I do my best to show up for my readers in a way that’s engaging, impactful and entertaining — both on the page and in real life. Other than that, the rest is not up to me. All I can do is keep showing up.

Track Changes

When you’re editing a piece of work, it can be helpful to track changes on a document. But this isn’t what I’m talking about here. What I mean is keeping track of the changes that happen because you had the courage to put your work into the world. I screenshot comments from readers on social media who tell me my books have changed the way they think about race and identity. I save a file of testimonials from parents who say I’ve shaped how they talk to their children about these tricky topics. I also keep notes on what I’ve learned and how I’ve grown while writing a book. All this is a reminder that so much of writing (and reading) isn’t just about the product or the story but about who we are becoming through the process.

Lean On Your People

Probably the most useful thing you can do as a writer is to find your people and lean on them. Obviously your closest friend/partner/family member who enjoys your writing or offers great advice can be invaluable. But as a writer, your people are other writers and it’s essential that you seek them out. Follow #writercommunity hashtags on social media, join a writers’ group or membership, befriend other newbie authors when your book comes out. You need to be in community with other writers who get it. Especially when Third Book Syndrome comes knocking…

NaNoWriMo Writers Board member Uju Asika is a multi-award nominated blogger, former journalist and TV screenwriter. She is the author of Bringing Up Race: How to Raise a Kind Child in a Prejudiced World and the picture book A World for Me and You (Where Everyone Is Welcome). Her new book Raising Boys Who Do Better: A Hopeful Guide for a New Generation came out on June 1. You can order the book for free worldwide delivery on Wordery: https://wordery.com/raising-boys-who-do-better-uju-asika-9780241608418

Uju is launching a creative writing service for developing and aspiring writers, learn more here!

#nanowrimo #writing #writing advice #second book syndrome #inspiration #writer's life #by nano guest #uju asika

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tokoyamisstuff · 11 days ago

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omg I definetly need more about the Invincible variants if you may!!

Second Chance At Love Pt. 2

After -> this <- silly lil' adorable idea by @rainydaygotham (but I made Reader a civilian instead).

Variant! Invincible x gn! Reader

Warnings: stockholm-syndrome, mentions of death, angst, (fabricated) tragic backstory, canon divergence, not proofread

A/N: whew, I never imagined you people would enjoy it this much. thanks for all the feedback, it really means the world to me! 💌🐞

"Our satellites found the missing variant, Sir."

"And what?" Cecil unintentionally stared daggers towards Donald, probably due to the stress and the fact that both of them had given their everything those past 32 hours. "Spit it out, damn it!"

Even through the reflection of his glasses Donald's mannerism were an open book for the head of the GDA, and right now he acted like he always did when he was unsure how to deliver troublesome information to his boss.

But this time it wasn't particulary bad news that made him hesistant, but the sheer absurdity of the situation.

"He-he is...with an old friend of our Mark, and...currently not attacking anyone."

The elder man rubbed his temples, lack of sleep being a steady companion in this profession but damn his advancing age sure made it harder to function properly.

"I want him on screen immediately!" he commanded harshly, voice not even slightly hinting the extent of his exhaustion.

This one apparently is more clever than the original Mark if he was able to slip past their organization's surveilance, Cecil concluded as the spitting image of his involuntary ally popped up on the monitor.

The young Viltrumite perfectly blended in with the crowd, sitting in a tiny suburban cafè far away from all the chaos. On the opposite end of the coffee table were you - not an unknown face to the GDA solely because of your affiliation with the world's strongest hero.

Cecil worked his jaw in irritation at the unfitting piece to this mess of a puzzle he was expected to solve. No way one of them came here merely to catch up with an old acquaintace...

...and yet for now, there were more urgent matters that he was needed to tend to first.

"Keep an eye on them and report shall he do anything out of the ordinary." As if this right now wasn't enough. "As long as he's preoccupied we have one less monster to worry about...for now."

Meanwhile you were sitting in front of your still untouched drink, watching your reflection on the liquid surface.

There was a radio running in the background, almost constantly updating you about how the other variants were still wreaking havoc everywhere, laying waste to the world as you knew it while you were trapped here acting as if it's a normal fucking tuesday.

You really shouldnt't be playing all domestic with a man that's just as much of a villain as his alternate selves currently on the run, and yet you keep reminding yourself that the only reason you're still alive is the uncertain benevolence of that very same person.

Trying to convince him to see the error of his ways or maybe even switch sides was out of the question - this Mark, just as the other sociopaths you saw in the news, has totally lost it a long time ago. You should be glad that he currently entertains himself with this little obsession of his, but that's no guarantee he couldn't snap and reduce you to a bloodied pulp any time.

And still, even though you have no other choice, it felt so terribly wrong to have a date - that felt more like a hostage situation - during an international emergency of apocalyptic scale.

Starting to feel sick as reality of your predicament dawned on you once again, you shoved the cup to aside, bracing yourself to interact with your kidnapper that hasn't initiated anything by himself until now.

Invincible on the other hand had destroyed Levi's orb long before finding you, never having disclosed his true intentions of joining this war. Also, with all the damage he's done the other 19 versions of himself would be sufficient, surely their 'boss' wouldn't care if one went astray from the plan. Not that he ever trusted Angstrom to not stab him in the back at some point, so who cares.

Back in the day you always had some spare clothes for this world's Mark in your room, in case he needed them - which was frankly quite often as they tend to get either torn or bloody from spontaneous fights. Maybe it was the sentimental value that made you keep them long after your friendship had ended, but right now they came in handy.

The other Mark nervously picks and tugs on the fabric, not used to wear civilian clothing after what felt like an eternity. It made him feel incredibly vulnerable to present himself this way. For years his costume had served as a barrier between himself and humanity, a symbol that the person he once was had long since ceased to exist so his Viltrumite side could rise.

Still, those familiar clothes, especially since given to him by you of all people, offered a strange comfort all the same.

At least he looked remotely normal like this, but god this man can be awkward at times. Some things really never change, even across different dimensions. Right now he was a perfect picture of misery, looking at you expectantly like a lost puppy that had just been kicked. Almost adorable, if you shun out the circumstances.

An uninvolved stranger would never believe that this is the villain who reduced entire cities to ashes just a few hours ago.

"So" you finally dare speaking up, casually leaning back in your seat as you take a sip of your already ice cold drink."I take it you're not a Seance Dog fan anymore?"

Noticing the bright logo on his shirt, Invincible actually managed to crack a smile - that trademark lopsided smirk of his that seemed more like a snarl now that you saw it after all this time. "Oh, you'd be shocked: The author is actually one of the few people I deliberately kept alive."

He's right, you are shocked not only with the answer, but the delivery as well. Suddenly you regret having pried in the first place. "Just a joke" he adds as soon as he sees the slightest shift of your expression, clutching the edge of the tabletop in frustration until it left a dent of his handprint.

You don't want to laugh. This isn't even remotely funny, and his reaction was awfully concerning as well. And yet you force yourself to snort, nails digging into your palm in an attempt to keep up the facade. "Glad to know you're as much of a weirdo as the original one."

It amazed yourself how calm and collected you could act, despite being as terrified of him as in the very beginning. Maybe you got used to the feeling already, or you had discovered a hidden talent of working well under pressure. May apply for a job at the GDA if you're ever alive and free again.

For the remaining duration of this afternoon, the two of you exchanged trivial stories about the past with your respective counterparts, many of whom were shared experiences. And as much as you tried to deny it, deep down you were aware you enjoyed this conversation more than you should.

There were only mild differences between your two dimensions as it seemed - at least when it came to your friendship, that was.

Invincible was pretty secretive about anything else really, but judging from the bits he threw in between you deduced he got his abilities way earlier than your Mark, which caused his father to never lose track of his original goal.

Occasionally Mark would state contradictionary opinions and you were sure most of it was just him mindlessly repeating the indoctrination his father had hammered into his head through inhumane methods.

You can only imagine what it meant for a gentle, sensitive soul like Mark to be subjected to a Viltrumite upbringing.

The sun was already starting to set when you were scooped up once again, however this time around you weren't afraid of the height in the slightest. You felt his chin resting atop of your head as he carried you through the sky, holding you firmly but carefully like you were a precious porcellain doll - and compared to his strenght you might as well be.

Yet all you could think of was the beauty of the twilight sky, and how oddly content you felt at that very moment.

Your date had promised to bring you to a secret location with a breathtaking view, and he really did not disappoint. It was in the midst of nature, absent of any human intervention. Just the two of you, surrounded by the sounds of the earth and the sight of the most horrible day in history of mankind slowly coming to an end.

Invincible spread his jacket out for you to sit on, and you secretly appreciated the gesture. A murderer, but also a gentleman, you mentally noted. Ironic. He slumped down on the damp grass an appropriate distance away from you, subconsciously starting to rip out some leaves.

You lean your head against his shoulder and he freezes in his tracks at the unexpected display of affection - or at least he hopes it's the absence of fear. For a long while you remain like this, admiring the view and each other's closeness, until you disturb the comfortable silence.

"How did you..." You hesitated for a moment, but then you met his eyes, so completely and utterly filled with genuine affection that caused something to blossom beneath your ribcage which you didn't want to acknowledge.

Even though you were still wary of him, it was hard to stay objective in the proximity of a literal carbon copy of the love of your life in nearly every single way.

"...how did you become like this?"

There was a long pause between your question and his answer.

"I got my powers shortly before my 13th birthday..." In hindsight, after having met the other variants who got them even earlier, it could've been worse. At least he was granted a few good years. "...and from then on, everything suddenly changed. My mom had an 'accident', so my dad was left to raise me on his own. It was-"

Mark's voice cracked, eyes glossed with unshed tears he was long since taught to repress as they were a sign of weakness. "The only times I felt truly happy was when I sneaked out to see you...I think for a long time those visits were what kept me sane. But nothing went past him..."

He balled a fist in the fabric over his sternum, and there was so much agony in his tone that it made your own heart clench painfully. "Dad- no, he's not a father. Never was. Anyways, Nolan tolerated it for a while, thinking I'd outgrow this sentiment and understand humans are beneath us. But when I turned 18..."

A tidal wave of shame and guilt washed over him, making him unable to bear looking at you as he continued his story. "He made me watch...I should've done something, I should've defended you, but...I was so scared of him. I just stood there when he snapped your neck."

The disclosure of the other's fate ultimately caused the panic attack that was seething inside of you ever since your first encounter with this variant to finally unravel. You frantically tug on your collar as you began to hyperventillate, feeling as if it was actually your neck that was being assaulted.

"Don't worry, I took care of it..." Invincible still had his face buried in his hands, and there was an eerie coldness in the following statement. "It took me a while, but I got stronger just to avenge you...ripped his sorry excuse of a heart right out of his fucking chest."

That's hardly a solace for either of you, isn't it.

Mark looks down at his palms as vivid images of his past crimes creep up on his mind, accompanied by a neurotic laughter that could only be described as absolutely broken...

...until you cup his hands with yours, the gesture conveying emotions you would never be able to put into words.

"Everything felt so pointless after you were gone..." he snivels, not resisting as you couldn't help but tug his head towards your lap. "You have no idea what emptiness you left behind...at some point I started doing unspeakable things just in order to feel something, anything to distract myself from the grief..."

You hum in between choked sobs, weeping for this lost soul as you rake your fingers through his hair, listening to him repeat countless apologies. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry...I should've just flown into the sun...I should've been stronger, better...I didn't want to become cruel...I wanted to be good...for you..."

What were you even doing here? Have you lost your mind?! Snap out of it, this is insane!

"Shh...it's enough. Stop tormenting yourself." No. He deserves far worse. Victim of circumstance or not, this man is beyond saving.

"Accompany me to my homeworld. Let me indulge you the way you deserve. Never leave me again" was what he desperately wanted to say, but instead he gulped harshly around the lump forming in his throat before announcing "I'll take you back home soon...phase one of Angstrom's plan is over, the variants will leave and you're safe again."

"Huh? I thought-"

"Drop the performance" he ordered as he fought to regain his composure. "You can speak freely. I meant what I said, I won't hurt you. Even if you hate me, even if you hurl all kinds of insults and accusations at me...I can take it. I'm just grateful for today. I'll cherish this memory forever."

Yes. This was more than he could possibly ask for. He already destroyed the life of your counterpart in his world, it's not fair of him to do the same to someone so precious twice.

Mark doesn't care what happens to him from now on, because thanks to you he was able to make peace with what happened.

"Come." He jolts up as he wipes his tear-stained cheeks clean, not biding you another look as he fears that otherwise he won't be able to pull through with his good intentions. "It's getting cold, we should-"

"No!"

Out of a whim you tackle hug the Viltrumite, who is caught off guard enough to stagger and fall. You softly punch against his chest and he allows you to let it all out, though he has no idea what you're on about.

"You-you're not like those other variants of Mark...please..." Your bottom lip is trembling as you speak, voice wavering with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher yourself. "Don't leave. If you have nothing to live for in your timeline, then...just stay in this one."

"And then what? Go to the Pentagon and say 'hi, I'm one of the Invincibles that ruined simply everything, but now I'd like to stay here'? They'll never believe that I don't have an ulterior motive!"

"So what? It's not like they can contain or even scratch you. And even if they could, I-I'll make sure to visit you every day!" You giggle like an infatuated teenager as you add that last sentence, and even a maniac like him realizes you must've lost your mind.

God, this is all his fault...

"What are you even talking about?" he almost yells, now on top of you and softly grabbing your shoulders to shake you ever so slightly. "Why are you trying to convince me? That can't seriously be what you want!"

"I-I...don't know." You're staring straight at him now, a stubborn determination in your eyes that almost frightens this unstoppable man. Wrapping your arms around his neck to make your foreheads touch, you whisper "All I'm sure of is that you didn't deserve any of this, and maybe...shit, just give us some time to figure it out, would you?"

Mark's hands were hovering over your body, giving it his best to hold back yet it was a lost battle before it even started. He utters vile curses under his breath before finally crushing you flush against his body, lips brushing against yours as if to ask for permission. You're quick to take the initiative, tossing all reason overboard as you give in to this all-consuming madness some might call hope...

...but just when you were about to pull him in for a long overdue kiss, the man that was straddling your waist mere seconds ago had disappeared in the blink of an eye.

The soundwave reached your ears much later than the actual impact, and much to your shock, when you saw not one but two Invincibles - yours having been knocked into a nearby rock formation - you immediately understood what it meant.

"Mark, wait!" you screamed, but your plea went on deaf ears.

After everything your world's Invincible had to endure those past few days, he wasn't even slightly in an amenable constitution. The only thing he was able to feel at this moment was rage, and he needed to direct it to something or otherwise he'd burst.

Sadly the next best target of his fury was the variant right in front of him - a man who not only attacked his homeplanet, but tried to violate someone he once held dear.

Mark will make him pay for trying to harm you.

"C'mon, stand up. Right now all I want to do is hit something...as hard as I can."

[Next Part]

#invincible #mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader #invincible s3 #invincible spoiler #writing #fanfiction #series #reader insert #nondescriptive reader #no use of y/m

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