So I sent my editor, Patrick Nielsen Hayden, an email, explaining why I couldn’t write that novel anymore. It was probably the most difficult professional email I’ve sent （to date anyway）。 It’s up to Patrick to tell his side of that email exchange, but I can say he was sympathetic and understanding. Twenty twenty was a year, y’all. That novel was taken off the schedule, and we would figure out where we would go from there.
Just like that, I didn’t have to do that novel anymore. All the mental energy—and angst—that was tied up in it over the course of the better part of a year was suddenly and finally swept off the table.
I felt … relief! And I felt happy.
That’s when my brain said, Oh, hey, we’re not thinking about that old thing anymore? Because I have this other thing that I was playing with when you weren’t looking AND HERE IS THE WHOLE THING kthxbye
Then the entire plot and concept of The Kaiju Preservation Society dropped into my head, all at once.
And thus, literally one day after I sent my editor an email that basically said, “I can’t write this novel I am full of angst and pain what even is my career anymore,” I sent him another email that was, “Oh, hey, never mind I have this new idea it’s really cool and you’ll have it in March.”
Writers. I mean, seriously.
As a writer I feel grateful to this novel, because writing it was restorative. KPS is not, and I say this with absolutely no slight intended, a brooding symphony of a novel. It’s a pop song. It’s meant to be light and catchy, with three minutes of hooks and choruses for you to sing along with, and then you’re done and you go on with your day, hopefully with a smile on your face. I had fun writing this, and I needed to have fun writing this. We all need a pop song from time to time, particularly after a stretch of darkness.
What about that other novel? you ask. Will you ever come back to it? You know what, I might. The idea of it is good, and in the future, if my brain is in the right place, and the world is in the right place, I might come back to it. It deserved my full attention, which I wasn’t able to give. When I can give it that, I may try again. I’ll let you know.
In the meantime, you have this novel: the right novel at the right time for me. It reminded me that I like writing novels and sharing them with you all. For that alone, I’m glad it exists, and that it’s in your hands.
With that as preamble, it’s time for acknowledgments:
First and most obviously, thank you to Patrick, my editor, literally without whom this book would not exist. A good editor doesn’t merely look at words, he looks at the author as well. I appreciate that Patrick sees me, and gets me, and encouraged me in ways I needed to be encouraged in order to get myself back on track.
Thanks also to the entire team at Tor who helped with this book: Molly McGhee, Rachel Bass, copy editors Sara and Chris with ScriptAcuity Studio, Peter Lutjen, Heather Saunders, and Jeff LaSala.
I want to give an extra shout-out to Alexis Saarela, my publicist at Tor, not for this book （although I’m sure she’ll do great with it）， but because the last Tor book of mine, The Last Emperox, came out just as COVID was getting into full swing and all my tour dates were canceled because the entire world shut down. In the space of what felt like days, Alexis and the rest of the PR folks at Tor retooled the entire tour to be online and virtual. It was a huge effort, and it worked—the audiences for the events were great, and the book became a bestseller. I want to be sure she and all the people in Tor’s PR department know that I appreciate the work they did for me, and for all of Tor’s other authors, in a really difficult time.
Thanks also to Steve Feldberg and his team at Audible for the work they do on the audio versions of my books. In the UK, much respect and thanks to Bella Pagan and Georgia Summers, and the whole team at Tor UK.
And of course, thanks to my agents Ethan Ellenberg, Bibi Lewis, and Ezra Ellenberg, who sell me in the U.S. and overseas. Thanks also to Matthew Sugarman and Joel Gotler for their work on the film/TV side of things.
During 2020, I found it difficult to write for reasons I’ve already noted above, and in December, I thought maybe if I came at creative things sideways, I might restart my engines. So I wrote out an idea for a holiday-themed song, called “Another Christmas,” and called on my friend, musician Matthew Ryan, to see if he might be interested in collaborating with me on it. He was. The resulting song was a real mood-lifter for me in a dark season, and reminded me that indeed, I could still make things. I thank him, and will cherish our song always.