From 10 minutes to 10 months: Why I Wrote a Novel
By: Jaime Martin Ko Atilano
Tags: LGBTQ, Writing, Authors, Fantasy, Books

It’s wild to think that this all happened just 1 year ago…

There I was, on a hazy Saturday morning. I sat down in my local Vigilante Coffee shop, my iced caramel macchiato in one hand, and my phone against my ear as I spoke with Eric Koester, Georgetown professor and founder of the Book Creators Program. Prior to our call that morning, he had pinged me on LinkedIn and told me about this opportunity. At first, I was hesitant. I thought this feels too good to be true, but I set up a call with him anyway because — you never know.

With the university chaos of September midterms riling my brain, along with the usual overwhelming demands that come with being a rising senior at the University of Maryland, why would I want to add more work to my already booked schedule? Why would I want to write a book?

I had a feeling; I knew I needed to speak with Eric. There was something about this program — I just had to know more about this program. I picked up the phone and called him. We spoke about many things, but in our brief conversation, Eric asked me a question that still sticks with me to this day:

“Ten years from now, what will you regret?”

I knew my answer.

I would regret not trying.

And just like that, in 10 minutes of the call — I was hooked. That’s all it took to convince me to dedicate myself to write my first novel.

And so Mala and Salem’s story begun, but of course, my heroes were not born yet. Their lives and trials not yet written on paper. The hard work began.

Before moving forward with this project, I had to know my purpose as a storyteller. I have always loved writing and telling stories — especially those that inspire others to be themselves. I also knew that I had a love for fantasy that needed to be told. I had always followed stories of other authors and waited to see a hero that looked like me — that represented my people, communities, and culture.

The diversity gap in LGBTQ+ literature is very real. A 2017 CCBC study of literature for children and teens, found that:

“out of 3700 books surveyed, just 3.68%, or 136 books, contained significant LGBTQ+ content. Of those, only 41% (56 books) were written by an author who identifies as LGBTQ+.”

I grew tired of waiting. And so Mala was born. Born out of the need to show the world that a Filipinx hero is possible; that they can be genderfluid; that they can have flaws; that these flaws can be not a mark of fault, but a source of power.

Then I imagined what someone who related to me may feel when they see a hero like them on a page. It’s more than just a story. It becomes a source of power for them. This brings it back to full circle again, my why — my purpose to inspire.

My why kept me going to finish my debut novel. I hope my love letter to my communities — LGBTQ+, Filipinx, those who feel different, etc. — will reach them and that they, too, can write the hero of their own story someday.

10 minutes from that phone call turned into 10 months of grueling writing — and re-writing — to finally have a published book in December 2020. In 10 years, I won’t be thinking of that regret. Instead, I’ll be thinking of the possibilities that the next 10 years will hold.