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I am just a wee bit excited at the moment. I’ve given birth to a book. Surprisingly, the labor pains of writing and delivering a child are remarkably similar.
This book cover represents ten years of determination and gutsy tenacity, and a whole lot of hard work.
Recently, author Lori Wilde said if you’re a writer depending on luck, you aren’t working hard enough. I’ll second Lori’s thoughts. I thought luck would be the final push to ultimate publication: meeting the right agent at a conference, pitching to an editor who would love my voice, falling across a publisher who couldn’t wait to print my books. None of those things happened. Though I certainly queried enough agents, pitched to enough editors and yep, stalked enough publishers at national conferences. (Fellow RWA members will understand this technique.) In the end, luck really had nothing to do with publishing. Success in writing has been a long road: curved so I couldn’t see all the obstacles still in front and so I would forget all the trials in the past; bumpy so that I needed to hang on with both hands to keep my dream; and incredibly discouraging to make me fight to win. The dream of writing . . . no, of writing well, is not for the faint of heart.
Like childbirth . . . would I do it again? Commit my time and effort to carry the burden of intricate plot, to develop dynamic dialogue, to weave the threads until finally delivering something worthy to the reading public? In a heartbeat!