If you read the first chapter of my debut novel The Self-Made Saint and meet Judith Drainger, you might immediately think “Well, who the Hell is this cranky, old cow?” And you will not be alone.
I’ve been questioned about Judith’s character endlessly. At best, I’ve had polite eyebrows raised at me at her lack of maternal instincts. At worst, I’ve been soundly rejected by every literary agent I’ve ever queried because they found her too hard to “sell”. So let me tell you, dear Reader, why I chose Judith as the main character for my story beset with family drama, adult parenting problems and the power of female friendship.
Look, quite honestly, I chose Judith because she’s me. Well, not all of me but a part of me.
You see, I have lots of different voices in my head…
Nope. Let me start that again.
My personality is split into many parts…
E-hem!
How’s this? I was born a gobby, rebel rouser but due to a childhood spent parenting two unparent-able parents, I was forced to become a dutiful, people pleaser to survive. But the rebel rouser in me didn’t die, she just got squashed in a deep, dark emotional cupboard until my early 20s.
I can’t say I purposefully rediscovered my inner rebel rouser so much as she burst out of me when I had my second son. It was at a time when I needed to be a strong advocate for my two little sons, and people-pleasing didn’t help with making the best choices for their medical and educational care. I had to speak up and I had to step up, validate my own decisions and to Hell with what everyone else thought.
Yes, just like Judith.
Except as a parentified child you learn important social and communication skills very quickly. Skills like knowing how to read a room, walk on eggshells, put your own needs last and keep the peace.
Very much unlike Judith.
Ball Busters like Judith
As of today, I’m in my late 40s and I’ve lived for much longer without my parents than I did with them, but I still always wonder, “what if?”. What if I hadn’t learned to bite my tongue or be a good girl? What if I didn’t care so much what everyone thought about me? What if I could be sure of myself, my opinions and my own actions?
While writing this book, I wrestled with these questions while reflecting on experiences I’ve had with all the fearless, loud women that I’ve met over the years. I call them Ball Busters. You’ve met them too. These are the women who show no fear in the face of male opinion, who make their own rules and never waste a moment of their day trying to be ‘pretty’. Full disclosure, these women are rarely my friends because they are not the sort of women who like women like me. As I’ve been firmly told: they find me a little too eager to chat longer than is polite; a little too keen to ask questions about things that are none of my damn business; and the fact that I’m happy to overshare (and prone to trauma dumping), these women don’t have a lot of time for me and my full face of make-up… and too many children …and matching shoes and handbag… and constant whining about how much I want to do but don’t.
Most importantly, these are the women you cannot people please – ever – and because of this they fascinate me. As soon as I discover I cannot charm or cajole my way into a Ball Buster’s good graces I instantly (surprisingly) relax. I’ve learned that though I can never make them like me, I can make them teach me how to do what they do. I might be a pain in the butt but I’m also a quick learner.
It’s from these Ball Busters I learnt a very important and essential life lesson: “you don’t have to like people to help them, nor be liked to be helpful.” For a (recovering) people pleaser like me this knowledge opened up a whole new world. It was also incredibly valuable advice as my teenagers grew to young adults and often let me know just how badly I had screwed up a lot of their childhood, while still asking to borrow (borrow, yeah, right!) money from me.
Judith Drainger might not be your favourite character but she, kind of, wasn’t meant to be. She’s the opposite of a people pleaser. She’s an extreme of what that a woman might look like when she’s brave enough to live without the safety of a steady career, husband or home to help define her. But my Judith’s also a proud and difficult woman on a journey to learn she is just as flawed and silly as the rest of us lip gloss-wearing women trying to get by in life without hurting anyone or ourselves.
Judith is the woman I never got to be.
So please excuse her her snippy comebacks, her emotional insensitivity, her lack of maternal affection, and the strange dissociative state she puts herself in just to get through the worst moments in life. She means well. She wants to be good. She knows you all are coping with this friend and family stuff far better than she can. Give her a break and you might just find she has something to teach you, even if it’s just the love of a fine gin and tonic.
I always like to think inside of me is the potential to be a strong-willed, ball buster who gets her way and can help others get their too (without needing them all to love me first!). But Judith is my template of sorts, and her voice in my head is calmer now I’ve written this book.
(c) Alexandra Addams
https://alexandraaddams.com/ Insta @AAddamsWrites
About The Self-Made Saint:
Judith Drainger has always played life by her own rules. But these days life seems to be playing her right back.
Divorced, orphaned and forcibly retired, 59-year-old Judith is determined to seize the opportunity to leave her broken home in London and move across the world to Australia. Here she reunites with her estranged adult daughter Cassandra – only to land smack bang in the emotional quagmire of her daughter’s anger and abandonment issues. To make matters worse, Judith can see her new granddaughter Emily has a serious health issue, but her offers of help are ignored and rejected.
When an accident knocks her off her feet, Judith is swamped by the kindly care of her nosy new neighbors. Yet, when given a chance to become a part of their community, Judith shocks even herself by making a series of unforgivable blunders. Realizing if she’s to have any hope of reuniting her family, this well-meaning but stubborn curmudgeon must learn the power of saying ‘sorry’ – and what it actually means to be a good person.
A tender and uplifting novel championing the complex realities of family, solidarity and friendship.
Order your copy online here.
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