“You should write a book” If I could count the number of times someone said that.....
Well, it took many years but I finally did it and now I am so glad. It was difficult for so many reasons. It stirred up too many emotions. Brought back far too many memories that had been buried.
I would write a chapter and then have to dwell on it for weeks before finalizing it. Then I would rewrite it because is “exposed” too much. Then I would write it again and put everything back that I had taken out.
Finally, it was completed and I had it edited. My editor made me dig deeper and expose even more pain and another rewrite was completed.
I gave it to my daughter to read and she said “No, mom, you have to say more. You have to show your pain more. I watched you go through so much and you need to make your readers cry.”
Yet another rewrite began. I know you writers out there will relate when I say that I read it so many times, I virtually had it memorized.
Off to print – I thought the writing part was difficult. Coming up with a cover design, a title, acknowledgments and blurb about who I am – that was a tough one.
Then the book launch and there are no words to explain my surprise when every single review that came back said “I couldn't put it down. I tried but ended up having to finish it.” It was interesting that they all mentioned how long it took to read it. Two days, a day and a half, all day and night...
I had no idea this would happen and wish they would read slower to let it absorb. Many said they would read it again but just had to know how it ended so read it through without stopping the first time.
But the thing that I appreciate most are all the people that said “You gave me hope!” That was the message! Battered but......HOPE!
The silence was deafening. The only sounds I heard were coming from inside my head. I could hear the blood rushing through my veins from the palpitations of my heart. My sweater was moving to the uneven rhythm. I had to keep telling myself to remain calm. I must not appear flustered or guilty. I tried taking deep breaths to slow down the pace of my heart which took every ounce of my strength and fortitude. I grabbed my knees with both hands in an effort to stop them from shaking. But that didn’t seem to help, and fear prevented me from thinking rationally. Nothing in my upbringing prepared me for what was ahead.
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