Me? Published?

A friend recently asked me how NaNoWriMo went, and when I told him that I had won, that my story was finished, he beamed at me. "So, when are you getting it published?" he asked, his face quite serious, which helped me realize, seconds later, that he was not in fact joking as I had imagined.

I consider him an extremely knowledgeable man. He knows people who have been published and he certainly understands the entire process more than I do (as a child, I believed, and as an adult, I wished, that publication was some sort of magical thing that just happened to your book, suddenly and inexplicably).

And I could not help but feel completely embarrassed.

As I tried to explain how I was now delving into the editing process, throwing in a bit about the Amazon writing contest I hope to enter in January of 2011, I blushed and squirmed at the startling thought that came with his words.

I never expected anyone to actually read my book and enjoy it. I wrote it for myself, dreaming of the day, in the distant, far off, you-have-to-shout-to-be-heard future when it might maybe hopefully be published, so that others can take the same journey that I've taken with the curious Pennamin, delving into my land of Ilikarr themselves. No one I know has read more than a small, insignificant portion of the story, and now that I'm on the precipice of this, throwing my book to the world and watching it be adored loving fans or devoured by angry masses, I am reluctant to discover that I am frightened. Very frightened.

But what struck me, what reverberated through my brain, resounding even now, was his utmost confidence in me and the pride in his voice, as if he knew what I did not. That there was no possible way that I could fail in achieving my goal.

It made me want to work harder.

So now that classes are drawing to a close, you may see me, sitting on a park bench somewhere, hiding behind a massive green binder, and scribbling like the maniacal authoress I aspire to be.

Thanks, Pete. That was so the kick in the pants I needed.