I’m so excited to share that I’ve signed on with Tall Pine Press for the editing and publishing of my first book. In the first few days after I signed and let some friends know the news, it felt as if I was looking through the glass at someone else’s life. It’s funny as a writer to say things like “I have no words”. I definitely have words to describe the feeling of knowing how my work will be made available to the public, but I find myself bound by my desire to savour these moments rather than to try to explain them. To adjust my life to write this book was my leap of faith and no one else’s. To have the manuscript pour through me was my immersion. To negotiate and sign the publishing agreement, I’m afraid, is still so personal that I’m holding the sweet taste so close to my heart rather than trying to explain it away.
This experience has been more private than I was anticipating.
To sign a publishing agreement is a huge milestone! I put a post up on instagram right away to share the news about the publishing agreement signature when I first signed it. I wanted to share in the celebration but was quickly surprised how overwhelmed I felt by the support that poured in. It’s been two weeks away from social media now as I’ve guarded this experience to savour on my own. The celebratory moment was starting to feel diluted, so off I went to the mountains to appreciate the silence and solitude of the snow. This post is the start of my first toe dip back into the waters of sharing publicly.
My consulting work has picked up, and my focus Monday – Thursday is on my client obligations. I love being of service to my clients and how I can use my management skills and experience to help smooth the bumps in their work lives. I really miss the days where I would write every morning until I was full (usually until 11am or noon) and then switch to “work mode” in the afternoon. It hasn’t been like that for a while.
The ongoing practice of letting go
It’s an excellent opportunity for me to allow things to be as they are. It isn’t early January, it’s almost mid-March. I’m not able to sustain myself financially without at least some paid work, so January 8 couldn’t last forever. Not physically, of course since a day is always going to be a 24 hour period, no matter how long or short it feels.
I’ve booked a week off in April around my birthday at a cabin close to the ocean on the sunshine coast of western British Columbia. I visit with the manuscript every couple days still, When I’m deep in work mode and my soul is craving time with the manuscript.
Earlier this morning, I shared the master manuscript with the editor. It’s a next level feeling of vulnerability. The word “PLACEHOLDER” is in there 49 times, indicating where I need to finish a section. We’ll meet tomorrow to walk through the flow and structure of the book.