The breathless part
of releasing a book—hitting “place order.”
It’s a bit like holiday
shopping, this book creation deal. I never really feel as if I finish; there’s a
point when I just have to stop.
Oh there will be a
typo or two or three. No matter that I have gone through the copy a gazillion
times, or that I have a jam-up editor, or that I have proofed the advanced copy
to find a few last-minute things to tweak.
They lurk, those
minor glitches, all na-na-na-boo-boo.
Keeping me human. And humble. And imperfect.
In the end, I know I
have to release it to the world or never have time to write yet another piece
of fiction, to revise and revise and edit and edit.
But my mama speaks
up: the expert on everything and anything; the little, kind voice I hear in my
head when self-doubt keeps me awake at night; the leader of my cheering section
no matter that she’s not on this side of reality now.
“Do the very best you
can do, honey. Then rest easy.”
To that end, I nudge
my latest novel, Parade of Horribles,
into the world. It’s not perfect but it’s mine.
Good travels, little
book. Go forth and touch the people you need to touch. I will remain behind,
ready to let the muses take over once more.
Rhett DeVane
Southern fiction author
No comments:
Post a Comment