How the realm of Crossworlds formed, both in fiction and in the real world.
Hey, it's my birthday, and I'm...
I'm aware I posted this for my 30th birthday as well, because my past self was impatient and we both love Jenna. Sorry for the confusion. I am now actually 32.
So, as I’m another year older, and so is Crossworlds, let’s take a look back on how it formed as I did.
I began building Crossworlds when I was fourteen, though at the time it didn’t have a name—the world, or the book series. I wasn’t trying to write a series, or even one book, for a long time. I was just playing around. Eventually, play developed into storylines, and those storylines became linked. Those links became one book with a vague idea for a sequel, and an even more distant idea for a prequel. I was sure that was the end.
Until one day I was reading “The Subtle Knife,” and the simple thought, “I wanna meet these people,” went through my head. That thought set off a 20+ minute daydream that opened up the second half of the series. There were a few times along the way when I thought, “And that’ll be the last book, and that’s the end!” But now I know Crossworlds will never be over as long as I’m alive. It is my personal crisis to be able to balance the life of my book series with my actual lifetime.
Just before Crossworlds, I lived in another world, one I shared with my friends in middle school. It was called “Strangeness,” and it was, as it sounds, all about being weird. My friends and I made up stories, we drew maps (I only remember towns like Sugarville and Lemon Land), and enjoyed our weird world together. It was a shared world—everyone could contribute, and put cities on the map.
The odd thing about Strangeness was I knew it was a phase, and wouldn’t live beyond middle school. But in the distance, across a bridge from Strangeness, I saw a new world starting to form. This world was both 100% private, and 100% permanent.
Until one day I was reading “The Subtle Knife,” and the simple thought, “I wanna meet these people,” went through my head. That thought set off a 20+ minute daydream that opened up the second half of the series. There were a few times along the way when I thought, “And that’ll be the last book, and that’s the end!” But now I know Crossworlds will never be over as long as I’m alive. It is my personal crisis to be able to balance the life of my book series with my actual lifetime.
Just before Crossworlds, I lived in another world, one I shared with my friends in middle school. It was called “Strangeness,” and it was, as it sounds, all about being weird. My friends and I made up stories, we drew maps (I only remember towns like Sugarville and Lemon Land), and enjoyed our weird world together. It was a shared world—everyone could contribute, and put cities on the map.
The odd thing about Strangeness was I knew it was a phase, and wouldn’t live beyond middle school. But in the distance, across a bridge from Strangeness, I saw a new world starting to form. This world was both 100% private, and 100% permanent.
I didn’t share. The few times I tried, it didn’t go well. Usually I’d just get talked over, by other, more confident friends who fully considered themselves writers. These were people who could pull ideas out of thin air, and discussed them like… Well, like they didn’t mean anything. I don’t like how pretentious that makes me sound. But for me, every time I brought up my world it felt like there were insanely high stakes. It wasn’t just some potential project I’d play with for a week and then drop for the next shiny idea—it was my entire life and identity.
The worst moment of attempted sharing was when I told my friends the name of my world. Yeah, it used to have a name. Basically, I was daydreaming on a car ride, thinking about what the world should be called. I thought about the “important” elements, which, at the time, weren’t very developed. I knew mirrors were commonly used, and that summer was the most celebrated season. So, I just mashed those words together into “Mirsuma.” And for a while, that was what I (privately) called the world beyond the Shadow Cave.
So, one day I was talking to a couple friends, and decided, for whatever crazy reason, to open up about this world. I said the name of it for the first time. And these two friends… Well, one of them said it sounded like the name of a disease. Not in a “hey, you shouldn’t call it that because it sounds like a disease” way, or in a deliberately mean way. No, she had just recently learned about a disease with a similar name, and she was excited to share what she knew about it. And then they both just… started talking about this awful disease and left me in the dust. I just sat there helplessly, trying to process the fact that my entire world had just shattered into pieces.
Dramatic, maybe, but I was a dramatic teenager. I remember crying about it to another friend later that day. I didn’t tell her why I was upset, I just remember repeatedly saying “it’s stupid,” while sobbing uncontrollably. And she’s like, “well, it’s clearly important to you, so it’s not stupid.” That was a sweet moment. And yeah, it was extremely important to me, but it was also pretty stupid, and I knew all of that. Still, it took months to look back at my writing, and address the question of the world’s name. Finally, I read “Faerie Wars” and decided my world didn’t need a name at all (the world in that series doesn’t have a name either). My world is just the magical world, and that’s enough. So, seriously, let’s never call it anything else.
The worst moment of attempted sharing was when I told my friends the name of my world. Yeah, it used to have a name. Basically, I was daydreaming on a car ride, thinking about what the world should be called. I thought about the “important” elements, which, at the time, weren’t very developed. I knew mirrors were commonly used, and that summer was the most celebrated season. So, I just mashed those words together into “Mirsuma.” And for a while, that was what I (privately) called the world beyond the Shadow Cave.
So, one day I was talking to a couple friends, and decided, for whatever crazy reason, to open up about this world. I said the name of it for the first time. And these two friends… Well, one of them said it sounded like the name of a disease. Not in a “hey, you shouldn’t call it that because it sounds like a disease” way, or in a deliberately mean way. No, she had just recently learned about a disease with a similar name, and she was excited to share what she knew about it. And then they both just… started talking about this awful disease and left me in the dust. I just sat there helplessly, trying to process the fact that my entire world had just shattered into pieces.
Dramatic, maybe, but I was a dramatic teenager. I remember crying about it to another friend later that day. I didn’t tell her why I was upset, I just remember repeatedly saying “it’s stupid,” while sobbing uncontrollably. And she’s like, “well, it’s clearly important to you, so it’s not stupid.” That was a sweet moment. And yeah, it was extremely important to me, but it was also pretty stupid, and I knew all of that. Still, it took months to look back at my writing, and address the question of the world’s name. Finally, I read “Faerie Wars” and decided my world didn’t need a name at all (the world in that series doesn’t have a name either). My world is just the magical world, and that’s enough. So, seriously, let’s never call it anything else.
So, from then on, Crossworlds developed privately. And there was a certain power in that. I had my little conversations with Ellie and Savannah through the mirror, and learned what they were all about. I spent hours on the top bunk of my bed with my orange cat Susa, staring into space, and filling notebooks with random story notes and dreams. It was something that was 100% mine, a wonderful refuge from the real world where I held all the power. There were times I wished I could share it, but I also knew that once it was out in the world, it could never be completely mine again. I decided to wait until I was ready to take that leap, and I'm glad I did.
I didn't try to share again until college, and not without a whole lot of peer pressure. But finally, I had some positive experiences. One of the groups I ran with liked to stay up late drinking, and the other group liked to have tea parties where I read my book out loud. I’m all about a balanced world.
Eventually I asked my boyfriend if he liked the name “Crossworlds” for the series. I wasn’t sure about it, because it sounded too similar to “crossword,” which I will never be able to say like a normal person again. But he loved it, and I soon grew to love it too. And he's been helping me grow my world ever since.
Eventually I asked my boyfriend if he liked the name “Crossworlds” for the series. I wasn’t sure about it, because it sounded too similar to “crossword,” which I will never be able to say like a normal person again. But he loved it, and I soon grew to love it too. And he's been helping me grow my world ever since.
That's me and my love a few years ago. There was also the time he made me a Crossworlds cake. Yummy. You should also have some cake, 'cause it's my birthday. Let's have a virtual party. Hell yeah.
Well. I know I'm allowed to be a little self-indulgent on my birthday, but that felt like a lot, so I'll wrap it up. But to any other writers who get talked over, or fear sharing, I hope you got something out of this. You will find your support system, and until then, you can grow your world yourself, because it's YOURS.