I met Jen St. Jude through Arcturus (which hey, we’re looking to expand our team; if you’re interested in an editorial opportunity, you can apply here). We worked together only briefly, but that was long enough to know what a kind, warm, and generous person they are. Jen stepped back from their editorial duties after getting a two-book deal to focus on their writing, which I was hungry to read after devouring an essay they published in Catapult. And returning it to when I needed a reminder of why I should keep going with my own writing, until I could no longer find it when the magazine went under.
Their debut novel, If Tomorrow Doesn’t Come, is the story of two girls falling in love as the world is falling apart. It deals with some heavy things (the world ending, yes, as well as depression, suicidal ideation, and homophobia), but there’s also so much hope and beauty in these pages. I devoured the book, just as I did their essay, because Jen’s voice is electric.
I’m so happy Jen agreed to this interview!
You wrote one of my all-time favorite essays about writing for Catapult (RIP) that beautifully separated the act of writing from publishing, celebrating dreams and passion for the work while trying to let go of expectations. It was one I revisited several times and I really wish I could link to!
I know, I'm sad it's gone forever! You inspired me to add it to my website.
It answers the two questions we typically ask authors: the first if they ever doubted the book would get published and the second about what keeps them motivated. But since I can't, I hoped you could speak to that. Was it as simple as really believing in the story you had to tell?
I started writing If Tomorrow Doesn’t Come in 2012, and it was published in 2023. As you can imagine, for most of those years I never really dreamed it would ever be published. Finishing was the struggle. But after I poured so much of myself into the story, year after year, and fell in love with the characters and the world I built, I was determined to take the story as far as it could go. I had a finished draft in 2018 and queried agents for 2 years with no offers of representation. I did get helpful feedback, however, and I'm very grateful to the agents who took the time to steer me towards the market. I didn't even write it as YA, originally, but I'm glad it landed there in the end. I was about to self-publish it when I had a few strokes of luck through the now-defunct Pitch Wars Program, which is how I found my agent. In the end, 76 agents considered it and had no interest. Without a few twists of fate, I'd have self-published it, and I think it still would have been a quieter, beautiful experience. It might have even been truer to my vision and intentions for it. I really wasn't going to let that story go, and I'm so glad I didn't.
Another thing you touched on in the essay was about community and how vital that is for writers. I've long admired the way you champion others' work. And I appreciated you mentioning the inner work we writers have to do around jealousy in this interview with Mandana Chaffa. Any tips for writers trying to navigate jealousy of their peers' accomplishments?
It's hard! Give yourself grace when you have those feelings; it's human. But take the next step to ask yourself more questions: Do you *actually* want what they have, or do you just feel like you should? Sometimes I see people blowing up overnight, or reaching levels of success that feel astronomical, and I have to remember I don't actually want that at all. I don't want the attention that comes with it, or the pressure, or the responsibility. But if you do want what someone else has, what can you learn from their path to get it? How do you think it would serve you? I suspect a lot of my jealousy comes from wanting reassurance that I will continue to have a career in writing. The unfortunate reality is that almost nothing can guarantee that; not awards, not sales, not film adaptations. My jealousy might also come from wanting validation that I'm a good writer, dammit. But absolutely nothing can *prove* that. That's not how art works! I have had to stop a lot and remind myself to be grateful for all the many precious things writing my book has given me. They are more than enough.
Can you share some reading recommendations?
Yes! I could be here all day of course, but a few recent favorites (all over the map) include: We Play Ourselves by Jen Silverman, Bury Your Gays by Chuck Tingle, and Spells to Forget Us by Aislinn Brophy. I also always want to yell about Caro De Robertis's Cantoras; it's just so painful and gorgeous. A favorite.
We always ask about songs that tied into the novel and you created a whole playlist for If Tomorrow Doesn't Come! If forced to pick just one song for it, which would it be?
I am completely positive this musician, Jordan Suaste, has never heard of my book but their song "love who you want to" would have made the playlist had it been in the world. The lyrics!
Today's the day, and there's an asteroid on the way
We should say what we wanna say
Do what we wanna do
Be who we wanna be
Love who we want to
I can feel there's something on the tip of my tongue
Love me like you know tomorrow ain't gonna come
Never felt alive until I laid in your arms like they were made for me
Thank you, Jen!
A great interview, as always, Rachel. And Jen—that Catapult essay—wow. Thanks for keeping it live on your website.