After my experience of co-writing an audio crime story with 8000 Mondes, I felt the urge to return to something more personal.
One simple question kept bothering me: should I start a new story, or go back to my first one—the one that had occupied me for three years?
I had written it as I went along. I knew it wasn’t perfect. Far from it, in fact: a beginner’s story, with its shortcuts, blind spots, and easy solutions.
But had I improved enough to turn it into something more accomplished?
One thing was certain: there was no way I was going to dive in headfirst like I had the first time. If I went back to it, it would be for a true rewriting process—one aimed at nothing less than every writer’s Grail: publication.
I needed to move forward. To improve. Really.
So I started looking for a coach. Not someone to teach me how to write their way, but someone who could help me write better in my own way.
Someone who pushes, questions, and digs where it hurts—without betraying the original voice.
That’s how I met Marie-Danièle Merca.
We immediately clicked, and we began working on rewriting The Elisa Cycle.
I started by presenting my world and my plot. And very quickly, there was already a lot to say.
The first challenge: the antagonist. And that’s where things got tricky.
Because I have a persistent flaw: I like things to move fast… even if it means resolving both major conflicts and minor issues a bit too quickly.
I had to learn to let tension exist—to stop resolving everything right away.
Surprisingly, that wasn’t the hardest part.
No. The real wall—the one I hadn’t seen coming—was this: giving substance to the story.
Giving body to the scenes. Describing places and atmospheres. Making characters exist beyond their dialogue.
I really had to push myself, and at first, I was quite skeptical. But in the end, I chose to trust the process.
Still, let’s be honest—it was a monumental struggle.
There was trial and error, rethinking, expanding, adding, reshaping. And above all: understanding.
Understanding the path ahead—and accepting to follow it, telling myself: “It will be better afterward.” And the result speaks for itself: it was always worth it.
There were times when I would come in with a chapter I thought I had fully worked through, only to completely restructure it after a coaching session—because of, or rather thanks to, Marie-Danièle’s questions.
That necessary step back, essential to improving a text, is much easier when guided by someone else.
In the moment, it can be unsettling. But it’s worth it.
Today, I’m so used to revisiting things in depth that when a chapter receives no substantial feedback, I’m almost disappointed—and honestly a bit incredulous:
“How is there nothing to fix? Are you sure?”
I almost feel like asking if it was really read.
Authors’ bad faith, right?
Looking back, I have absolutely no regrets about the investment. This support helped me make huge progress.
My writing has evolved. I have evolved.
And clearly, in the right direction.
