So I know I’ve been saying how excited I am to have finally hit Quill and to know that my book will be in the hands of actual people sometime in the near future. But, honestly, I don’t think it hit me until today.
On the way home from work I had to pull over because I was suddenly, intensely aware of how much work it has taken to come this far. I saw every word I wrote, erased, re-wrote, re-erased, and re-re-wrote. Every character I sketched into notebooks and introduced to paper, as ready to tell their story as a child on the first day of school. I saw every excited key stroke as I experienced new events and people that screamed at me to make them real. I saw every moment of anticipation as I waited for my betas to respond. A thousand smiles when they praised something they liked or offered advice to make the story better. Every bit of terror as I wrote out queries, and more anticipation as I waited for a response. I re-experienced each and every time my heart dropped into my stomach at an agent’s rejection. And another. And another. The determined flits of my fingers as I turned each letter into a different origami animal to add to the ever-growing zoo. I felt that tiny spark of hope that glimmered when someone finally told me what was wrong with the original manuscript. Too long. Too long. The fevered dash to correct the issue– erasing entire chapters, people, subplots. The tearful goodbyes as I deleted entire lives so that the others might have a fighting chance. The uncertainty of trying a less-than-traditional publisher. The soul-crushing doubt for each day I didn’t get a single pre-order. The amazement each time I did.
And it all brought me to… this. Laughing and sobbing on the side of the road, tears streaking my face even as my cheeks hurt from smiling. Amazed and relieved and humbled all at once.
It’s indescribable. Thank you.