EW

Ramblings on writing, crafting and life.

At 3:28PM Eastern time, in the cafe at the local Borders Books, I finished my book. Yes, you read that right. The book is finished. Well, I will clarify by saying the rough draft is complete. I’ll pause a moment to let those of you who’ve been following to recover from the shock. I know, right?

I sat a moment, in complete shock. I literally had to go back and read the final page three times before I believed it myself. Holy crap! It’s done.

And as I drove home, refusing to call anyone, holding the news tight to my chest. I could have been hissing “Myyyyy Preeeciousssssss”, and it wouldn’t have been surprising. There were brief moments of complete euphoria, but mostly…I just kept thinking of all the work that is left. I had an internal dialogue going that went something rather like this.

“I finished the book!!!”

“Yes, but now there’s the first round of edits. Then off to readers, then another round. And you haven’t done a query or a synopsis yet.”

“Hey…let me enjoy my moment here.”

“Oh by all means….enjoy it. .”…pause for a beat…”Are you done enjoying? Because we should really think about those re-writes you need to do on the first 1/3 of the book”

“Jeez…gimme a break here. I’m basking”

“Bahh….bask when you’re published. For now, let’s think about those changes.”

“I swear. You suck the fun out of everything.”

“Now now. Don’t get grumpy. I’m just trying to help you focus.”

“Fun sucker!!”

“There is simply NO talking to you when you get like this.”

*insert sucking noises here*

“You are SUCH a child.  I give up!”

Thus I left myself in a huff.

And I remain oddly shell-shocked. Vacant almost. I’ve been pushing for this moment for years. Wondering if it would arrive. Only to find that once here, it’s oddly anti-climactic.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m excited as hell to finally get here. And the most meaningful part of this for me, is really that I showed myself I can do this. I can write a book. No more excuses. I can DO this. And it’s exciting, and terrifying. NO MORE EXCUSES. Well hell. There goes that gig. Suddenly, books two and three, and the YA series are ever so much more tangible. They are there, waiting (somewhat patiently) to be given there due. I can no longer whine at myself that this is an impossible thing. It’s possible, just difficult.

So I believe we are going to celebrate, family style, my being a writer. Because oddly enough, even though it feels surreal. I finally think I can call myself that.

Hi, I’m Liz. I’m a writer. Guess what I did today?

I wrote a book!

This entry was posted on Tuesday, February 9th, 2010 at 6:33 pm and is filed under Ramblings, Writing. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.