About a year ago, I started updating y’all on my journey through my new book.
Our journey, since I have a writing partner. And it’s not just me and Melanie. Hardworking Anne has ridden herd on us both. Book designer and artist have done an amazing job with the look and feel of the project. Behind the creative team is a corporate gang in sales and marketing, flow charters and admin gurus and bean counters without whom the book wouldn’t come out at all.
(These business types are easy to make fun of, but I am sure they sigh and roll their eyes at the creatives as much as we do them. Mutual tolerance, mutual puzzlement, fish and birds gazing at each other in incomprehension.)
But mostly I was interested -- am interested -- in sharing my journey. Selfish? Egotistical? Narcissistic? Me? (My favourite two-letter word.)
Autumn Bird And The Runaway was off my desk for good a few weeks ago. I have not checked in with y’all since then because there was nothing to check back about. I’ve been busy with other projects. Teaching, travelling, scribbling away at the book after the one after the next one.
A question I get asked a lot is: “How does it feel to hold the physical book in your hand for the first time?” The answer is, of course: “Great.” But it’s not the same ‘great’ as the one you feel when they decide they like the original manuscript enough to publish it. Or the one when your editor sends the re-re-re-rewritten manuscript onward. THOSE moments are big relief, big sigh ‘great.’ Not quite the same as, but related to, the moment when you hold the baby for the first time.
Arrival of the physical book ‘great’ is not even close to new baby ‘great.’ It’s more like spring cleaning ‘great’ or bouillabaisse ‘great.’ Hard work, long time coming, satisfying to the senses.
This post is to remind you that the bouillabaisse is still simmering. But it should be ready to serve soon.