My first book, Reflections of a Misfit, is published! It’s real! I gently lifted the first copy from the box, caressed its smooth cover, opened it carefully to see my words, my name, shining at me from the pages.
Okay, it wasn’t that great, but I whooped and hollered as if I’d won the lottery! We did it! We did it! I include my husband in the “we” because he suffered through many a bowl of soup as I buried myself in the writing. I include God in the “we” because He gave me the kick in the pants I needed to put my reflections in book form. When you read the book, you’ll understand.
There is nothing like the feeling of holding your own real book in your hands for the first time, with the possible exception of holding your newborn baby. However, much like having a baby, the work begins with the birth. How will people hear about it? Who will want to read it? What good is a book without readers?
The way I figure it, one of two things is going to happen here. My rusty old brain will loosen up and begin to regain its youthful vigor, or the overload of new information flooding my mind is about to clog it up irreparably.
I’ll go with the first, I think. So here we go, on our next adventure. I want to write. I need to learn to promote. I want to read all the books written by my new author friends I’m meeting in this process of stretching the old noggin across the canyons and hills of social media.
I’m going to have to live forever.
Thankfully, God has that covered. I hope I get to write in Heaven.