A Year Later...

Last January I started writing two different stories. One progressed faster than the other, and I had written twenty plus pages when the other story took hold and took off.

Last  night, a year later, I finished this story. It is just over two-hundred pages long. As you can imagine I am quite excited.

Today I got it printed with a three hole punch done to the side and put it in a binder so I can begin to proof and edit.

This is hard work. It is annoying. It is frustrating.

Before I'm through with it, I will be sick of the book.

And then, when I think I've perfected it as much as humanly possible, someone else will look at it for me and find all sorts of errors.

And after they finish with it, someone else will read it, and find more mistakes.

I will let it sit "cold" for a while. Then I'll go back and read it again, and you won't believe this, but I'll find more errors.

And sure as shootin', after the story becomes a real live book in print, I'll read it proudly for the first time....and find an error.

It never fails.

Diana Gabaldon, one of my favorite authors, says when one closes the cover of a novel the errors reproduce.

I believe it!

But for now, the printed pages lie pristine between a binder's covers, full of hope and satisfaction.

Just waiting on me to begin.

The most perfect time for the book, because it is newborn.

I can hardly wait to hold it.