6/2

Since copy edits and rewrites are complete, I've grown excited at the prospect of seeing my work as an actual book.  My editor and I decided to self-publish a few preliminary copies prior to shopping it out to the big name publishers.  Why you ask?  Well for many reasons:

1. I'm impatient and I really want to see it as a book.
2. It will look more professional than just a stack of papers held together by a binder clip when we do shop it.
3. If for some reason it isn't picked up by a big publisher, we will have the basic means to sell it ourselves through amazon.com, lulu marketplace, etc.
4. And my last reason is because I'm completely sentimental:  This is my story at its purest form, before its read by many, before it's shopped out.  Right now there have only been three other sets of eyes on it besides mine.  I've kept my story to a very close group of people, all different in their own ways, all mean something to me.  And they are who helped me shape my story.  I am forever grateful to them (and they will all be getting a preliminary copy).

All in all I think it's a great idea and I cannot wait to actually hold my book in my hands, bound with a cover and formatted pages.  It's going to be a great moment and just in time for my birthday next week! 

 

Writing My Song has been an incredible journey and I could not be more grateful for the opportunity to write this piece.  I hope those of you who decide to read it when the time comes enjoy it and take your own meaning from it.  I could write blogs and blogs of words describing my emotions in this piece and how I feel about the process and end product, and perhaps one day I will open up and express those things in great detail, but for now those truths are for me and my three closest supporters to know, and that's how it will remain for some time.

 

But know that this story does mean a lot to me, and I hope that it will mean something for the rest of you.  The support I have received for my art and my words has been overwhelming and humbling.  When you read each page, you are making my dream come true, and for that I am grateful.

6/1: Copyediting and Rewrites Officially Complete!

The second pass of My Song, all copy editing and rewrites are complete!  The next leg of this journey seems to be nearing it's end, and I'm onto the next!  It's all very exciting!

Tonight and Thursday night will be spent reading it from start to finish for third pass, just to catch anything, grammar or otherwise, that was missed during the first two passes.  Then it will be time to bound the pages into official manuscripts and send them to their next destinations:  publishers.

My editor and I have made a pact, however, that if for some reason, it's not picked up by a large publishing house, we will be self publishing it ourselves and it will be out for Christmas.  It's all very surreal that my dreams of being a publisher author are on the cusp of coming true.  Fingers (and toes) are crossed!  I am actually really looking forward to sharing it with you all eventually, and hope that you find your own meaning in my words as I have.

It's been a long process, and there is still a long road ahead, but it's worth every second.  I wouldn't trade any of those seconds.

Stay tuned for a synopsis and possibly an excerpt...It might be time to share.

Let it sit

Yesterday was the first day I had looked at my book in over a week.  I decided to heed the gentle advice of my freelance editor that has been working with me on this project:  "Let it sit for a week." 

I remember staring at him blankly, "I don't know if I can do that." 

He stared back at me and held out his hand for me to shake, "Promise?" 

He was serious.  I could see it in his face.  He also knows about my infatuation with words and that the word promise has a strong meaning to me.  I placed my hand in his, sealing the promise of not reading it for a week.  I kept my promise (I always do) and picked it up for the first time last night.  I read the first two scenes of part one, before stopping.  The end of the second scene always gets to me for some reason and I put it down.  I immediately understood why he had told me to wait a week to read it.  I appreciated my writing more. 

At the moment, my book is with my editor for copy editing and structural changes.  I'm to review his changes tomorrow and make my own tweaks if necessary.  Then it will be fine tuned and ready for its next step in the journey.

On a side note, I had the pleasure yesterday of telling someone I am a writer.  I love how that sounds, I'm a writer.  It's a beautiful phrase.  But like all writers, even when I complete a project, I still need to write.  It's like breathing.  I actually began my second novel, just playing around with a scene that had been on my mind.  I actually know what the next three books I write are going to be about.  Told you I am a writer!

4/11/2011

I was completely alone.  The only light in my bedroom was from four vanilla candles and the screen from my computer.  It had been a warm day, the first of spring reaching into 70 degrees.  I was wearing black sweat shorts and  last year’s Relay for Life team t-shirt reading, “I-rish for a Cure 2010”.  A thin, sweatshirt blanket lay across my legs.  It was my favorite from college.
            The window was open and the smell of spring wafted into the room , gently blowing my navy curtains.  I had turned the ceiling fan on earlier and it was my absolute favorite sound.  It had started to rain gently and I heard the drops tap the pane of my open window.  My hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and still felt damp from my shower earlier. 
            I stared at the computer screen through my glasses.  I sat in disbelief and turned to look at the clock.  It was 10:44 PM on April 11, 2011.  I had finished my novel.  After years of failed attempts, and the past few months consisting of labors of love, sadness, heartache, and hope, I had finished.  My fingers were still poised above the keys, but words no longer escaped.  Clair de Lune by Claude Debussy was playing quietly in the back ground and I felt a smile cross my lips.  And without warning, I began to sob.  I had just finished my first novel!  I needed to share it with someone, so I picked up my phone.  It was late and I wasn’t sure if he’d be awake, but I was too excited and  I wanted to share.  I constructed a text message to a good friend proclaiming that my first novel was finished.  To my surprise and happiness, he replied with words of support and encouragement.  I was happy to share my excitement with him.
            I sat still on my bed, not wanting to disturb the moment.  It was a perfect moment, emotional and wonderfully bittersweet.  I smiled to myself again and sent the finished product off to my editor, tears still in my eyes.  And when he replied with “You’ve made a wonderful piece of art”, I began to sob more, all the while still smiling.  I was going to be an author. 
            If I had ever doubted writing as my path in life, it was confirmed by the feeling I felt staring at the last page of “My Song”, the cursor flashing to the beat of Debussy.  What an absolute perfect moment, what an absolute perfect feeling. 
            I tip-toed out into the quiet house.  Every room was dark.  I reached my parents bedroom and opened the door gently.
            “I finished,” I whispered wondering if one of them would hear me. 
            They didn’t reply, but I felt good knowing that I said it outloud regardless of whether they were fast asleep.  I closed the door and tip toed back through the living room.  I stared out of the floor to ceiling windows at the night sky.  It was beautiful and I smiled again before heading back to my bedroom.  I didn’t want to sleep.  I wanted to freeze the moment and keep it on a shelf and relive it any time I wanted.  I texted my friend one last time joking about how I should try and get some sleep, but doubting I’d be able to.  He wished me good night and I lay my head down, smiling still, and to my surprise, I drifted off to a sound and well deserved sleep.
            I was an author and “My Song” was singing…