Last night while driving around, the boy asked me why he couldn't read my novel (I changed the name again, by the way. Now it's called "Apocryphal").
I said "because I'm afraid my writing comes off like Stephanie Meyer's."
So he said "Then just add in a secret fantasy boyfriend, and everyone will love it."
I hemmed and hawed about that, and he said "Add in an Angel secret fantasy boyfriend. Maybe two."
And I said "All the angels hate my main character."
So he suggested "Add in some demons, then."
And I said "There's already about fifty."
To which he replied "Cool."
There you go, success awaits.