Let me give you a short back story. Years ago, I used to write poetry non-stop. I used to keep a notebook with me at all times and would be constantly inspired to write. I would get this urge to speak on something and I would start writing and wouldn’t be able to stop until it was through. It was something I hadn’t experienced before and it happened over and over again.
Inspiration came from everywhere. Whether it was a homeless woman I’d seen on the street or a relationship I or a friend had been through – it prompted me to write. I’d written so much that people would often ask me when I’d be publishing the book. I hadn’t even thought of making it a book. These were just my thoughts over a period of years that I’d collected in a little floral notebook. Then, I thought, why not? Why not make it a book?
I started this process back in 2002. The research, the ideas, putting it off, moving forward, self-publishing or traditional? I had so many questions. I finally got the last push I needed when I was pregnant with my son. I wanted my child to see me finish something I’d set out to do. I wanted to be an example. After many starts and stops, hiring an editor and all of the other mayhem that comes with it all – I’m here.
Yesterday, I hit submit for the final time on my manuscript. My book is now headed through the printing process! I’m excited, nervous and relieved. Excited because, it’s a goal fulfilled. Nervous, because I hope people receive it well. Poetry and the written word period is so personal and leaves me pretty vulnerable. Relieved, because it’s done. At least that stage is over and it’s on to the marketing process. In the meantime, I feel like I’ve freed up some brain space to tackle other things on my list. That feels good, really good.