Have you seen that movie, Gone in Sixty Seconds with Nick Cage and Angelina Jolie? If you haven’t, the basic plot revolves around a group of car thieves, really good ones mind you, who are able to jack a car in sixty seconds flat. Quite a feat when you stop to think about it.
When I learned that Inkspell Publishing wanted to publish my debut novel, Call of the Sea, the emotional rollercoaster ride that ensued reminds me a lot of that movie. I went from a celestial high, where I wandered around the house with a Cheshire cat grin on my face and randomly shouted a hearty squee, to the low where it occurred to me that people would actually read my story, see its cover, and judge it on its literary merits. My squees turned to “Holy Mother, what did I just do? Am I ready for this?” -- all in about the space of sixty seconds.
Suddenly, it was all real. I was about to become a published novelist. There’d be editing rounds, of course, but also cover art to collaborate on, book blurbs to write, promotions to participate in. For the first time, my name wouldn’t appear alongside a list of other contributors. This book, this story I love, and have worked so hard to get onto paper would be mine alone. I’d have no one to share the spotlight with, nor would I have anyone to stand behind or blame if it wasn’t well received. All just me and my little dream.
Scary, right? Like being on stage in front of your whole high school class buck naked. *shudders*
Where am I going with all this rambling nonsense about books and movies?
Simply this.
You will never know if you can fly, until you jump off the roof and flap your arms. I’ve decided I want to fly, and I’m about to jump. Care to come along?
When I learned that Inkspell Publishing wanted to publish my debut novel, Call of the Sea, the emotional rollercoaster ride that ensued reminds me a lot of that movie. I went from a celestial high, where I wandered around the house with a Cheshire cat grin on my face and randomly shouted a hearty squee, to the low where it occurred to me that people would actually read my story, see its cover, and judge it on its literary merits. My squees turned to “Holy Mother, what did I just do? Am I ready for this?” -- all in about the space of sixty seconds.
Suddenly, it was all real. I was about to become a published novelist. There’d be editing rounds, of course, but also cover art to collaborate on, book blurbs to write, promotions to participate in. For the first time, my name wouldn’t appear alongside a list of other contributors. This book, this story I love, and have worked so hard to get onto paper would be mine alone. I’d have no one to share the spotlight with, nor would I have anyone to stand behind or blame if it wasn’t well received. All just me and my little dream.
Scary, right? Like being on stage in front of your whole high school class buck naked. *shudders*
Where am I going with all this rambling nonsense about books and movies?
Simply this.
You will never know if you can fly, until you jump off the roof and flap your arms. I’ve decided I want to fly, and I’m about to jump. Care to come along?
