Validation and My New Book 'The Herd'

I wanted a book with a Black female lead kicking ass and taking names in a disinformation-fueled dystopian world (with a love subplot!), so I wrote it. Now it’s available for pre-order!

While living in Madrid, I met this indie American couple. The mom was super nerdy, with anime tattoos all over her body and way more into fantasy and cosplay than I had ever been as a teenager. Truthfully, I don’t know if we would have been natural friends in America, but in Spain—where our kids attended the same daycare and both of us were in interracial relationships—I was drawn to her.

We didn’t seem to have much in common until she told me she was a writer and planned to self-publish her first fantasy novel in a series. “Self-publish? Are you sure?” I remember asking her. “Don’t you want a publisher?” She was sure.

Fast forward to today: not only did she self-publish that book, but she also worked with a publisher, and I’m pretty sure I saw her series in Target last year. Meanwhile, I spent a lot of time sending query letters and editing endlessly for that publisher validation.

Immigrants and Validation

For a first-generation American kid, validation is huge. It’s that sense of finally doing what our parents wanted us to do—of becoming successful in their eyes. It makes us feel like we really belong, like we’ve earned our space here. Sometimes, though, validation can be crippling. It can stop you from going after the things you truly want because you’re stuck chasing those elusive stamps of approval.

Most of my life, I’ve been on that chase. Whether it was getting accepted to an Ivy League school like Columbia or passing the State Department exam, I kept searching for those external markers that said, “Yes, you’re good enough.” One of the biggest stamps of approval I wanted was from a publisher. I’ve published countless pieces in news outlets and contributed to books, but deep down, I still craved that official publisher seal of approval for books where I was the sole author.

I spent years toiling over different writing ideas—fiction, nonfiction, you name it. I poured my heart and soul into them, thinking, “If this is good enough, I’ll finally get that validation.” But life is more complicated than that. I’ve gotten a few positive responses from query letters, but they often fizzled out. At one point, I was thrilled. I’d followed all the rules: wrote a solid query, targeted the right audience, all of it. Then, on election day—boom. The publisher changed their mind. That decision hit me hard. I took a break, recalibrated, and dealt with a lot of other things going on in my life.

But now, with Trump re-elected, the NYT best sellers list showed that dystopian novels are back en vogue.

During Trump’s first presidency, I devoured so many dystopian books and series: The Hunger Games, Angelfall, Divergent, Station Eleven, Ready Player One, 1984 (I even saw it on Broadway—I’m that obsessed), Never Let Me Go, The Power, The Handmaid’s Tale, The Road, The Giver, and so many more. After finishing all those, I kept thinking, “I want something that tackles media disinformation in a post-apocalyptic setting with a badass female lead of color—and there should be a love story in there too.” When I couldn’t find it, I decided to write it myself.

The Herd

I started writing The Herd in 2018.

My husband jokes that the audience for this novel is super specific: someone who loves dystopian fiction, cares about disinformation, and wants a love subplot, all wrapped up in a story with a strong woman of color who kicks ass. And I’m over here like, “Yes! Exactly! That’s the book I’ve always wanted to read but could never find.” So I wrote it. Literally.

After Trump’s second election, I decided I needed a break from nonfiction and the onslaught of news, so I revisited my novel. When I reread it, I thought to myself, Damn, this is good. It was the break I needed, and I hope it can be the break you need too.

And after years of sending query letters—albeit a bit inconsistently—I’ve decided I’m done seeking validation. Now that publishing silos have been broken for a while, I want to share what I care about—whether people think there’s a massive market for it or not.

Now, my book is available for pre-order. It’s a big deal for me because it’s forced me to confront my hang-ups about external validation. You’d think, after everything I’ve done in life, I wouldn’t need anyone else’s stamp of approval. But it’s like a disease that still haunts me, especially as a first-gen American. Stepping away from the need for a publisher’s nod—at least with this first novel—has been huge. Maybe I’ll still get that nod someday, but for now, I’m doing this on my own.

And honestly? I’m excited. I was excited to see Octavia E. Butler’s classic Parable of the Sower back on the best-sellers list. I also saw my sister just finished Tomi Adeyemi’s Children of Blood and Bone. I can’t wait to share The Herd with anyone who’s looking for something new and different. This project challenged so many of my assumptions about what I “need” before putting my work out into the world. In the end, I realized what I really needed was to trust myself and my story—and just do it.

So, here it is, in all its dystopian, disinformation-riddled glory, featuring a strong woman of color at the center, plus a little romance for good measure. If that sounds like your jam, I hope you’ll check it out. And if not, hey, at least I stopped waiting for someone else to say I’m “good enough,” a mindset I hope you carry with you for the rest of the week.

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