‘Book’ does not equal ‘baby’

Christmas tea toast to writing ‘The End’ on my rough draft

Earlier this month, I finished the first draft of my second novel and posted this photo on social media. A friend commented that “THE END” are the sweetest words in the English language. Are they?

When my husband and I were expecting our first daughter, I put a lot of time and energy into worrying about the delivery. Would I be able to do it? Would I require an emergency C-section? Even as I could hardly wait to meet my newborn, horror stories of botched epidurals and episiotomies kept me up at night. I could barely think past delivery day.

Fortunately, the delivery went very much by the book. What I was unprepared for, however, was what came after we brought our baby girl home. The sleepless nights. The on-again, off-again success with nursing. Post-partum depression. Had I known of the challenges we’d face in the weeks and months after her birth, I wouldn’t have given the delivery more than a passing thought.

Fast-forward to my second pregnancy, which we entered into with eyes wide open. As my second daughter’s delivery date grew near, I found myself thinking very little about the hospital stay and, instead, prepared to accept a whole lot of help during her first few weeks at home. In the overall scheme of things, the delivery was just a bump on a miles-long dirt road filled with late-night feedings, early-morning feedings, teething tantrums and diaper blowouts. But this second time around, I knew how and when ask for help and I was much more prepared.

I kind of feel the same about finishing the first draft of my second novel, LAST DREAM OF MY SOUL. With my first book, I thought that completing it was the challenge – much like I assumed the delivery was the hardest part about having a baby. It’s not. And it wasn’t.

The challenge came later: Sorting through conflicting advice. Forcing myself to graciously accept criticism. Re-writing passages (and even *gasp* deleting some) that I loved. Dealing with paralyzing self-doubt. Pitching it for the first time to an agent. Admitting my book wasn’t ready for publication. Scrabbling and struggling to revise tricky passages. Not getting my hopes up too much at my first request for a full. Not letting my hopes be entirely dashed by every rejection letter.

Just like every new mom can use a hand, every new writer needs help, as well. I was blessed to find writing angels in disguise in the form of my critique group partners and beta readers. My first book would still be a rough draft nightmare if it wasn’t for their caring suggestions and thoughtful critiques. I know they will be there for me with this second book, as well.

Is writing a book like having a baby? Yes and no. Both are challenging. Both can be immensely frustrating. Both can make you want to pull your hair out. Both are filled with infinite rewards.

At the end of the day, though, my writing is just a pair of saved Microsoft Word documents. My daughters are two of the most beautiful living, breathing, awe-inspiring creatures God saw fit to put into my life. At the end of the day, even if my novels never see the inside of a bookstore, it’s going to be OK. Because I have loving children who bring me more fulfillment than I could ever find in my career.

Anyone who has ever said that “The End” are the sweetest words in the English language have obviously never heard the words: “Love you, Mommy.”