Reality is Sweet and Sad and Scary

Every writer dreams of the day when a story becomes a book.  Since Flux first offered on Silver nearly two years ago, I knew this day would come.  But knowing it and experiencing it are two totally different things.

Today, the dream is a reality. I am holding a finished copy of Silver in my hands.  I don't know whether anyone will buy it.  I hope so.  I hope that some of them will like it.  But as I sit here today, one month before my debut novel is released, I don't want to think about sales and reviews and marketing. The reality of my dream is something completely unexpected to me. 

I am excited, of course.  Still, there is a bittersweet quality to publication that no one warned me about.  The reality is that this book is no longer going to be mine.  I am going to have to let it go out into the world, to succeed or fail on its own.   

Before that happens, I want to keep it close.  I want to remember that when I sat down to write this book, there was no expectation that anyone but me would ever see it.  This book was a labor of love, a place to explore characters and themes and stories that mattered to me.  It was a playground for me to escape to and let my imagination run loose. 

I want to remember how these characters took on a life of their own, surprising me in the most delightful and exciting ways.  I loved uncovering their secrets, especially the ones they tried to keep buried. 

I want to remember how difficult it was to keep going at times.  There were days when I thought I might never finish.  Still, I kept coming back to it, one weekend day at a time.  There were days when my heart bled onto the page, and days when I laughed out loud.  Everyday was a journey.

I want to remember that I didn't write this book for others.  I wrote it for me.  And whether it sells or not, whether people read it, whether they love it or hate it, one simple thing will always be true: I love this book.  I am proud of how far Silver has come from those quiet days when it was just me and these characters and a keyboard, feeling my way through the story.  But it is those days, when I wrote for the sheer joy of discovery, when pieces of me tangled up with the words, those days are the reason this book even exists.

In a month, Silver won't be mine anymore, it will belong to the marketplace.  I will let it go and hope for the best.  For now, I am holding my finished copies tight.