Can I really face submitting my book about unpaid dementia care in Camden for publication to a trade publisher?
Answer is 'no', but......
In a society which has become so individualistic, it is tempting to think, for me, that I am the only person who has ever wished to submit a ‘trade’ book to a literary agent.
I have become overcome with such colossal fear, similar to when I took my first swimming lesson at the age of six.
But everytime I get close to preparing the submission package for one of my shortlist of literary agents, a voice in my head tells me to go through the manuscript one last time.
All ‘they’ want is a clear synopsis, cover letter and a sample of at least 5000 words.
But I must have written the opening a thousand times.
The title of the book has changed numerous times.
The book has a clear theme, which is unpaid dementia care in England.
When I started it, I did not expect the narrative to be the internal conflict between me wanting to return to full-time medicine and my assumption of unpaid care.
In reality, the decision was made for me, by the need to ‘isolate’ and not to transmit coronavirus onto my mother.
The book ended up covering a lot of sociology. When I re-read it yesterday, I felt the book had become really bloated with quite intense sociology.
And I really am not the best person to discuss sociology, as I am not a sociologist.
One of the issues literary agents get you to reflect upon is: why are you the best person to write this book?
And it simply hadn’t dawned on me that I had no authority to discuss complicated issues which have been aired in fine detail by actual leading thinkers: Simone de Beauvoir, Hannah Arendt, Alex Honneth, Joan Tronto, Jean-Paul Sartre, Maurice Marleau-Ponty, Ervin Goffman, and so the list goes on.
I did end up shortening the book a lot, and it is a good book.
But I have a huge amount to say about my lived experience.
Telling this story matters to me - as living the life of an unpaid care bore virtually no relation to what I learned, or have ever continued to learn, about ageing or dementia.
I came to the conclusion that much of life, including the way corporate dementia charities work, and the way the media laps up the latest ‘breakthrough’, is inherently political. And I did try to explain that in good faith in my musings.
I also tried to explain the sources of injustices for unpaid carers - without it sounding like a whinge. But it’s not really “new news”.
The book is indeed a ‘call to action’ - but here’s the ludicrous thing, I feel that it has to be ‘perfect’.
Spoiler alert: the book will never be perfect.
Like the actual process of caring for my mum itself, and the ensuing grief, the whole journey has been unpredictable, uncertain and complex. I do overall think it’s worthwhile, and, a bit like the latest dementia ‘breakthrough’, I do need to give it one last ‘push’.
I can only hope the 5,000 words are not my “worst foot forward”, and the cover letter doesn’t sound mechanical - as if I don’t really want to submit the book.
The synopsis is fairly predictable. And so is the ending.
After all, at the end of six years, my mum dies. That’s what dementia, if correctly diagnosed, does, doesn’t it?