...thought about this a lot because editing Never Knew Another brings it back to me. I remember thinking right after Last Dragon that people don't know what they want. Basically, I thought, before I had a book out at all, and I was in the soulless sprawl in between Dallas and Fort Worth, that everyone was unhappy. They wandered book shops and libraries miserable because they didn't even know what they wanted. They knew what they didn't want, right? They know they didn't want a book like that, or with that kind of cover, or with that kind of story, or that was too much like what they read in school which was difficult. But, did they know what they wanted? No.
And I was thinking about poverty, and urban loneliness, and the way GLBT people in suburban Texas were generally treated like pariahs for no good reason, and the people who needed to know what that felt like were people who would never read the memoirs of a gay or lesbian teen.
I'm done with one. I turned it in. I don't feel like talking about it anymore. Time to sleep, read, and write some more.