After spending the last six and a half months on this writing project, I’ve discovered that nothing has prepared me for the feeling that consumed me when I went to purchase the ISBN number and barcode I would need for the hard-copies of my novel. A sense of shock, vulnerability, and excitement swept over me as if what I was about to do (in making this purchase) was final like I finally came to terms with stepping off the proverbial cliff into the unknown of risk-taking. I spoke to a friend who is a self-published author and he told me, “Wait until you find how you feel when you hold your finished novel in your hands!”
I can’t fathom my reaction, yet, because this writing process has been full of changes within me, not just in the text from one draft to the next. At the beginning of all of this, I was laying on ice packs every other hour to cope with the damages from a car accident I was in before the idea behind the novel surfaced. I’d pack ice behind me when I propped myself up to type on my laptop and I had to stand and pace with ideas so I wouldn’t remain sitting for hours with an injured back.
As I look back, I can’t believe that I have arrived at this place, the place where I’m going to become a published author. The past half a year has flown by even though it seemed to drag on at the time, due to recovery. I have shared the details of this process with friends and I was surprised at the amount of them who shared that they have always wanted to write a novel, but they admitted they didn’t have the time. If you are one of those people who claim to have the inspiration, I urge you to find the time to write. The process will change your life.