Your Body of Mine: The Origin Story of My Debut Novel in English
On neuroplasticity, rhesus macaques, and the right title
Ten months from now, my novel Your Body of Mine can be in your hands. Today, I will share how this book came to be.
My agent pitched the manuscript as follows:
“The mind-altering science of “Severance” meets the chill of Nordic noir in YOUR BODY OF MINE, a speculative upmarket novel about two women battling over the dominion of their single shared body after a groundbreaking brain surgery.”
The story is set in the near future in Iceland, a country that left a deep impression on me when I first visited it in 2008. The rugged, wild landscapes, the intensity of glacial cold, the sense of isolation and defiance.
My books are born from many ideas running into one another in my mind. It’s impossible to trace each element to its source. But for Your Body of Mine I can identify three things that led me to write this novel.
1. My Mother’s Alzheimer’s Disease
Years before my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, her behavior changed. She lost her ability to speak foreign languages, stopped driving in the dark, and became so anxious that even events that used to bring her joy, such as a visit from me, caused her excessive stress.
“Where will you sleep? How will you get here? What do you eat?”
I researched what might be wrong with her and what I could do to help. Essays on brain health brought me to the encouraging topic of neuroplasticity.
“Did you know our brain contains far more connections than there are stars in the Milky Way?” asks my protagonist in the novel.
The human brain is an open system, continuously changing to adapt to new circumstances. If part of our brain gets damaged in an accident or stroke, another part can take over essential tasks such as movement and speech. Our brain rewires, or even regenerates, so the whole organism can survive.
I couldn’t save my mother with what I discovered. Alzheimer’s disease is characterized by a failure of neuroplasticity, an inability to form new neural connections. But my fascination for what our brains can do was born.
2. A Newspaper Article
One day, an online newspaper article caught my attention. It was about a scientist who had successfully transplanted a brain from one rhesus macaque into another. Of course I immediately wondered about what this breakthrough could mean for people. What would it take for a human brain transplant to succeed?
I followed my curiosity deep into a rabbit hole and learned about organ rejection, grafting, nerve endings, stem cells, myelin sheaths, and the importance of serotonin levels for neurogenesis. I learned that sex can be very useful to rewrite the body map in our brain.
Along with the science, I got intrigued by the ethical implications of human brain transplants. What problems might arise between mind and body, donor and recipient? What laws exist or should be written?
I also pondered the question of consciousness in general and where it may reside. We often identify ourselves with our brain, our mind, yet living brains are embedded organs, body-bound. Perhaps it’s time to change Descartes’ maxim into: I feel, therefore I am.
3. The Title: Your Body of Mine
Some authors plot their novels in advance and know the story they’re telling. I don’t. I write from character and consequence: I zero in on a dilemma, explore the field of possible actions, and follow the implications of my characters’ choices. In the end, my characters are transformed by their interactions with the world.
But writing like this comes with a risk: The causal chain does not magically draw to a close. One thing will always lead to another, so much so that the book’s ending might be elusive.
Because it’s difficult to find the story’s arc halfway through the writing process, I now force myself to imagine a finale in advance. I still write from character and consequence, but I think it through to the end: What will be my character’s final choice in this story? What leap of faith or sacrifice will she make?
When I landed on the title “Your Body of Mine,” I sensed right away that this was my anchor. It contained the main conflict—the struggle for dominion— and its resolution, even if that resolution wouldn’t be immediately obvious to readers. With this title, I could write this speculative novel. And so I did.
What Happens Next for Your Body of Mine
Your Body of Mine will be my seventh book, yet also my debut adult novel in English.
My first four novels were published in Dutch, my mother tongue, and the book I co-authored with my husband was written for younger readers.
I signed the contract for Your Body of Mine with my publisher Vine Leaves Press on the day they released my flash fiction collection, Woman of the Hour, and I took that as a promising sign.
The official release date for Your Body of Mine is 27 April, 2027.
This seems like a long time away, but there are lots of things happening in the meantime. Think: developmental editing, asking for endorsements, proofreading, writing an ambitious marketing plan that is totally unrealistic, writing the back-of-the-book blurb, designing and revealing the book cover, sending out publicity essays, organizing the book launch, and other exciting things I’m keeping a secret for the time being.
Not too long ago, I felt awkward about anything that reeked of promotion. I refused to convince readers to buy my books. They were supposed to be drawn to my writing as if by magic. But writing this post taught me an important lesson: Sharing my honest enthusiasm for my novel simply feels great!
Your Body of Mine is a speculative novel that blends the emotional devastation of Kazuo Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go with the bodily unease of Han Kang’s The Vegetarian.
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