In My Hands

Unless you’ve written a book and had it published, you won’t know the feeling.

Yet, long, long, long before that happens:

There’s an idea!

Like a bolt of lightning...

...and the first chapter rolls out.

Really quickly.

Writing chapter one is the easiest chapter by far...

...cause you’re fired up and the characters are brand new to you.

The only thing I struggle with in chapter one is the first line of the book.

I always want it to be a great line. I write that line over and over again. I hope someone notices that I take great care in the opening line of all my books!

And then the trouble begins...

...the work.

Like digging a really long ditch.

I have 13 books out now.

I have never not wanted to quit somewhere along the way.

You have to be a pit bull.

You need to blow away the fears and push past that “this sucks point!”

And there’s the handling of the end.

‘Cause you sometimes don’t want to finish.

Those characters, who lived in your head and heart will be gone...

...they’re there for others to consider now, but they’re leaving your life.

And that’s sad.

I’ve never once not felt depressed when it’s over.

Then there are rewrites.

You do that so many times that...

...you end up hating the characters you loved...

...and you’re back to thinking that it’s all crap.

You send it out, get it back, read it, fix it, send it out, read, fix and read.

Like digging a ditch.

I’ve been fortunate to work with great artists...

...especially lately!

They make it into a book.

I always hate my name on it.

Wish there was a way to make it smaller.

(A psychiatrist could make $ figuring that out).

And then I get excited (a little) about others reading it.

I fee pretty confident by then - I won’t put out junk.

And then it shows up on the doorstep...

...and you open the box...

...and there are 100 copies.

Yesterday I picked it up and smiled.

More relief than happiness now.

Everything I Know....

...I hope you like it.

It was fun.

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