My baby came early
My baby came two weeks early. She measured eight and a half inches long and weighed fourteen and a half ounces. Completely caught off guard by her early arrival, I was nonetheless totally in love the moment I saw her face.
I’d just gotten home from an errand when the brown stork, commonly referred to as UPS, pulled up outside. My husband answered the door, took the delivery, and handed it off to me. “What’d'ya order?”
The package was book size but I hadn’t ordered anything recently. I shrugged and tore the cardboard open.
And there she was. My first print novel. Operation Sheba, in the flesh. Or in the paper, as the case may be.
I wrote the first version of Sheba after the towers fell. It was my way of coping with a world gone mad. Creating a fictional world where good guys won and brought justice to the world gave me back a sense of control and from then on I was hooked. Spies took over my imagination, invaded my dreams and monopolized every free moment I had.
In the past eight years, I raised twins, rewrote Sheba twice, hired an agent, fired an agent, moved my family to another town and lost a dear pet. A couple friends departed and a bunch more showed up. While Sheba was making the rounds to agents and editors, I completed several more full length novels and a couple of novellas.
And then, last year, I sold.
Sheba came out first in eformat last September. It was a thrilling moment for me to see my baby with a cover and ISBN number, which was sort of like an ultrasound. I could see it, see the sales and good reviews, but I still couldn’t actually put my hands on it.
Nothing can compare to holding your print book in your hands. Just like you count the fingers and toes of a real baby, you flip through the pages, reread the reviews and pause for long moments at the title page, soaking it in. You put it on a special shelf and stare at it with a goofy smile on your face. You talk to it, smooth its cover. and hug it to your chest.
I wonder if the next book will get such special treatment. Will these feelings ever get old? Or will subsequent books be special in their own ways, just like kids?
I don’t have those answers yet, but I sure look forward to finding out.
Really Proud of you! I know it was a long road.
Nana
Thank you, Nana, dear! You were a wonderful support for me during these last couple of years, especially with the sequel to Operation Sheba. Now it’s your turn, girl!
I remember the first time I saw my books on display.
“My babies!” I cooed. The bookseller grinned, ’cause he knew what I meant even if the rest of the world didn’t.
Congratulations! It’s a great feeling, isn’t it?
Yes, it is, Darlene! I’m still on cloud 9. Everywhere I go, I keep shoving the book in front of people and going, “This is my book. I’m an author.” Then I giggle. They probably think I need medication.