There is a Jewish adage that roughly translates to “From all my students I have learned.” I believe this is true of stories as well. Every piece that I have written, be it a short story, novella or novel, has taught me something about writing or about myself. Sometimes both.

There was the book that taught me how to write first person close Point of View, and the notable first time I put a Jew down on the page and realized I wouldn’t implode. And then there was THE STORY. The one in which I finally found the courage to explore all of those things at once. The story clocked in just shy of 7.5k words, a little long, but damned if I didn’t loved it and damned if I don’t admit it scared the hell out of me.

It took a month of moving around the commas and the support of four different Critique Partners before I was ready to send it out. It came back shortly after with the sweetest, most encouraging personalized note explaining why it didn’t fit that particular market. It was validating and crushing all at the same time, because in that moment I realized I had done the impossible and written something decent but there might never be a place for it in traditional publishing. I questioned whether there would ever be a place for me. I tucked the manuscript away, where it could never hurt me again, and moved on.

But it wouldn’t let me go.

So I wrote another short story with the same characters. It was my guilty little pleasure. My #PassionProject that I assumed the world would never want, because YA + sci fi + orthodox Jewish girls is not exactly on anyone’s manuscript wish list. Except mine.

Progress was understandably, painstakingly, slow.

I was in that weird headspace when promo for Dahlia Adler’s Cool for the Summer first appeared on my twitter feed. The premise seemed fun, the cover was gorgeous, but it didn’t come with a spaceship or a dragon and my TBR pile was already huge. I didn’t envision reading it quickly. Until someone flagged me on an article in which the author spoke about writing a Jewish character. Two of them in fact.

Bingo! I was in.

The protagonist, Larissa, differs from me in almost every way conceivable. She is popular, hot, loves parties, and does all manner of things in high school that I still don’t have the guts to do despite being old enough to have a graduate degrees. I didn’t care. Larissa was Jewish and she was in a book. A popular book. A book that people who weren’t Jewish read. A book that was on the front display table at the bookstore.

Mind Blown.

I picked up my proverbial pen again.

Progress has been faster this time around. Thank you Larissa, thank you Dahlia. For teaching me that it’s okay to be myself.

Find it: Goodreads | Bookshop | Amazon

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E Broderick is a speculative fiction enthusiast. When not writing she enjoys epic games of trivial pursuit and baking. She currently lives in the U.S. but is eagerly awaiting the day a sentient spaceship offers to take her traveling around the galaxy.