Writing a Book or Birthing a Baby?

For eighteen months, I thought about, dreamed about, talked about, and wrote about the fictional characters that would come to life in the pages of my novel-in-progress. They became more real and important to me than some things in my real life. I spent hours researching, outlining, imagining, and worrying about them and the situations I put them in.

For eighteen months, I agonized over every chapter. Is this scene advancing the character’s development? Where is the plot going? Is that believable? How does this conflict resolve? What’s my overall theme, and am I sticking with it?

For eighteen months, I worked on world building because part of this novel involves a spirit who exists in a different realm. Making a non-existent place seem possible, believable, was something I’d never done before. Was I doing it well enough?

I’ve heard many authors say, “the characters speak to me,” or “I’m excited to see where the story goes,” as if they don’t know. Well, I’m no different. (Boy, we sound like a crazy bunch.) Because the truth is, when you’re invested in writing a book, it’s like growing a human being inside you. The creation is part of you, but you don’t dictate what it is. You only have so much control. And when the novel is finally done, it does feel like birthing a baby. You’re bringing something new into the world that’s never existed before. And it’s completely exhausting! But as every parent knows, it’s worth every ache and each hour of lost sleep.

So, after eighteen months, last night, I marked the fulfilling occasion of saying, “It’s DONE!” I finished the first draft of my third novel, and this baby is called, “Whatever Comes Next.” Like all infants, it will experience a steep learning curve, adjusting to the world around it. My role in helping it along includes multiple readings, excruciating line edits, reworking dialogue, examining plot, checking characters’ voices for authenticity, more research, etc.

Then my baby goes to daycare. I will turn the manuscript over to my husband for an Alpha read—the first person besides me who gets to see the entire book in all its glory and flaws. He’ll help me refine the book for “public consumption.” After I make edits based on his feedback, three or four very special people called Beta readers will read and critique the novel, providing their assessment on how readers might perceive the book. They give suggestions based on believability, enjoyment, pace, and they answer the all-important question: “If you bought this book, would you think it was a good investment of your money and time?”

After all of that—and more sleepless nights for me—“Whatever Comes Next” will go to college: into the hands of an agent or publisher. In a final act of letting go, as all parents must eventually endure, I will release this novel into the world and hope it finds kind readers who will appreciate it for its unique offerings.

And so, now, after eighteen months of gestating an idea, nurturing it into an entity separate from me, I begin the process of guiding it into the light. The next several steps will take another few months, but I look forward to delivering this, my third novel, to people who enjoy losing themselves in literary fiction. The book’s birthday will be sometime in the New Year. Stay tuned!