Manuscript Launched!

At 11:18pm last night, 53,521 words were launched into cyberspace. Their destination? Two computers—one in an office in Kansas City, the other in Colorado Springs. My manuscript now awaits the eyes of my editor and agent. Oddly enough, a feeling of relief hasn’t hit me yet. Maybe because I know this is far from over…really only the beginning.

From here, I await the editors red pen and the rewrites—the polish needed to make this book shine. The title has been decided; Just too Busy—Taking Your Family on a Radical Sabbatical, the cover will be decided by December 1st. Meanwhile, I am speaking at local churches, which has been such a blessing. People have been so encouraging and welcoming. God has opened door after door and I have not doorbell-ditched Him, not once.

I’ve missed blogging. A lot. It has been one of the things I had to let go while writing. I can’t wait to catch up with everyone. You girls have blessed my heart. Your encouraging comments have inspired me more than you know.

My next few posts will be about the journey of writing. The calling, the lessons I learned, and how I decided to celebrate the completion of my first book…I think I should begin with that post.

After submitting a 246 page document last night to my publisher, I decided today to use a teensy-weensy bit of my advance and treat myself to something I've only dared to dream about.

I think you girls may approve. The video below might give you a hint. So, what is your guess? Wait. Let me rephrase the question. "How would you treat yourself if you could?"


 

Birth is Painful!

The last few weeks before a book manuscript is due is kind of like childbirth. And not the kind of childbirth where you've been given an epidural and are applying lip gloss for your video debut...more like the kind of childbirth without the pain meds- except you want the pain meds. Badly.

After months of joyous anticipation filled with title-daydreams and catchy unicorn-rainbow covers, suddenly I realize I have to complete this overwhelming task. I have this unbearable urge to scream at the top of my lungs and throw things at my husband.

Paul -I fired that hairbrush after you left the room. What? You felt it whizz by your head? You are mistaken sweetheart.

This week has been filled with tears, discouragement, and an overwhelming pressure to get this thing out of me.

I am pushing and groaning, weeping and grunting. I don't care who is in the room right now as I type this. I've lost all sense of discretion and dignity.