With Pleasure... sort of

In the comments of my last post, Wordgirl made my day by asking me to tell about my novel. I find that talking about a writing project is a lot like talking about my children… by the way, in case you don’t know me very well, I'm like most mothers in that I LOVE talking about my children. Therefore, if given the opportunity, I could go on for hours and hours about my main character’s journal entry about the little man with the goofy eyes or why she will NEVER sleep on her right side, or better yet, the way her soul will grow exponentially because I developed her into someone who is smart enough to cohort with memory evokers. The bad part about comparing my novel with my children is that I am SHAMELESS in rambling about it and HIDEOUSLY sensitive when it comes to taking criticism about its faults that I oftentimes would rather remain CLUELESS about in the first place. That’s actually not altogether true… I want to know all about the insignificant faults that I’m sure can easily be explained away or rectified IF said faults can be presented in a precise yet delicate manner. Yes, I know. Like I said, I’m shameless and hideous and clueless. But I’m aware, and I hear that’s the first step.

Anyway, my novel... It’s young adult fiction, although I didn’t know this immediately. I started writing it for people my age. But when I started writing it, the people my age were young adult. So here I am, four kids later, on my second marriage, a TEENSY bit past the young adult phase of my life, and it’s finally in the finishing stages… under contract, being revised as we speak, and set to be printed early next year. Although I tell ya, it’s like sending my kid off to public school. I’m nervous. And yet relieved she’s finally out of the house. All the while I’m trying not to think about what I’ll do if the world rejects her. Hoping and praying that people won’t throw their lunches at her, or worse, ignore her!! Worse yet, WHAT IF THEY SEND HER BACK???… You think there’s a twelve-step program for cutting the apron strings from your novel?