I wrote a novel. Another one.
I have been a writer most of my adult life. I have written essays and a children’s book and more blog posts than I can count. This is different. I want to tell you why.
One year ago I started writing a story about a woman named Amaya Stein. The story started out as a thought bubble in the shower. Then over a week, I outlined it on paper. Amaya and Noah stayed in my head over a year, their stories changing from a sweet romance to a commentary on k-pop and its fandom. It is the culmination of what I experienced as an older k-pop fan and what I see as an invested participant in this wholesome community of k-pop fans.
As for Amaya, she is a journalist. She is serious about her work and careful about her feelings and she has a biopsy scheduled for next week. Her editor — who is also her aunt — sends her to cover a K-pop group at the height of their fame. She goes. She is skeptical. She leaves changed.
Amaya is not me. But I know her from the inside. I know what it is to arrive somewhere with your conclusions already formed, and to have them quietly dismantled. I know what it is to care about something you had no intention of caring about. I know what it costs a certain kind of woman to let herself be seen paying close attention to something the world has decided is frivolous.
I wrote this book because I wanted Amaya to exist. Because I think women like her — older, careful, already holding a lot, deserve to be the protagonist of a love story. Not the wise friend. Not the cautionary tale. The protagonist.
She falls in love with the music first. Then with one specific person across a very large and complicated distance.
The book is out today.
A Star Keeps Its Distance. https://a.co/d/0dEumILl
If you’ve been here a while, thank you for being here while I was quietly writing this. If you’re new, welcome.
Lakshmi Iyer 