The doorbell rang a few minutes ago and as I approached to answer it, I saw the UPS guy walking back across the front yard. I peered through the window beside the door and saw the small, book-shaped package sitting just outside it. I opened the door and brought the package inside, sat down at the table, and opened it.
The book is bigger than I imagined it; more substantial looking. And it is beautiful. Now my task becomes looking through it, making sure everything looks the way it should; reading it, because once a manuscript becomes a book, there are things one sees that they don’t before it’s in its final form. Keep in mind I’ve been down this road with over two hundred authors . . . it’s just that it’s my turn now, and that makes it entirely different.
I edited another book earlier this year and enjoyed it very much, once I got back into the process of it again. Prior to that, it had been six years since I edited someone else’s book. I’m known to say that the last three books I edited did me in. One was about school shooters, which was one of the hardest books I’ve ever had to edit subject matter- and overall contact-wise. Another was written by a knighted, former ambassador to Persia, now as everyone knows, is Iran. His predictions of what would happen should we not heed his warnings were dire . . . very dire. So also disturbing. The final of the three was a 1,100+ page collection of a lot of useful information about every woman who ever played any role in classical music. There shouldn’t be any question as to why I decided it was time to retire my red pen.
And how this relates to my book? When I was editing, and designing book covers and content, I treated each book as though it was the author’s child. Many spent much of their life either dreaming about writing their book, or actually writing it. I considered how I reacted to people when they gave me constructive criticism about one of my children, and approached the way I dealt with authors in the same manner. A book is very personal. It is, more often than not, a singular pursuit for an individual writer. And each one of us who has done it, has experienced the Oh My God moments that I describe in this blog post.
There were certainly books I worked on in the collection of two hundred that I didn’t believe had much of a market, there were books that I thought would sell far better that they have proven to. Regardless, each of those authors deserved to have their Oh My God moments, to celebrate the culmination of perhaps years of work, or years of dreaming.
Having worked in the publishing industry has not jaded me. I am as excited and as giddy as anyone who has gone before me. It is thrilling to see my book in print. Thrilling. I didn't take a photo of the sunrise this morning, none could likely compare to the one I took last week, the day I sold my first book. But like that day, this is a day I want to remember forever. I hope to have many, many days like today, where the first proof of a new book comes in the mail and I get to devour it like I plan to do with this one.
If you’re reading this and have gotten this far, thank you for going along on this journey with me, not telling me that you’re sick of hearing about my book, and celebrating with me. If you’ve always wanted to write a book, paint a painting, become a barrel racer, record a CD, write a blog, start a business, here is what I have to say to you:
What are you waiting for? Do it. Whatever it is, do it. Believe in yourself, believe in your talent, believe in your ability, and just do it. And if I can ever offer personal words of encouragement, my door is always open, and I’m quick to answer email.
If you’ve read this particular book, you know it is the same thing Liv would tell you. You are never too old to pursue your dream. Never. Do it.
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