Friday, September 12, 2014

The Birth of a Novel.

I am so excited to share my first novel, Reset, with you all!


The concept for Reset came to me four years ago.  I had family visiting during spring break and I began furiously writing.  I wanted to get the story out as fast as it was coming to me.  One of my nieces and my daughter were reading each chapter as soon as I’d finish it.  Then my family left and went back to their respective hometowns and my novel was once again put on the back burner.
There were many factors as to why I didn’t finish it at the time.  The big one being quite simple—life.  It has a tendency of getting in the way.  I let it.  Of course, there was the simple fact that I was trying to get my teen-aged daughter through middle school while obtaining a difficult degree in paralegal studies.  There was also the fact that I was hugely involved with some local charities that were taking tremendous amounts of my time.  Let’s not forget that I have ADHD and tend to jump from one task to another, so fast the glasses shake in the kitchen—Squirrel!
Oh, sorry.  I got distracted.  Regardless of the excuses, Reset sat silently on a jump drive, waiting to be written.  I ignored it.  I acted like it didn’t exist.  I denied it the light of day, because I was too busy.
I was also petrified.  How could I possibly think that I could write anything that anyone would really want to read?  How could I be qualified to write one book, much less a trilogy?  All those doubts piled on top of the idea and squashed it like a ketchup packet in the glove box.
Sure, I met established authors who’d always just tell me:  “Just write.”  Okay.  Well, then.  Thanks for that nugget of golden knowledge plucked from the tree of life.  No kidding.  Just write.  Simple enough right?  No.  Not really.
It was like thinking about having a child.  It’s too soon.  I’m not ready.  Will I be a good parent?  Will my kid hate me?  Will others hate me when my kid is loud and annoying in a nice restaurant?  Do I have the time for a child right now?  Will I go broke having this child?  Am I truly qualified to be a parent?
Yeah.  The doubts were firmly entrenched in me.  So I studied the law, and I did quite well in my degree.  I graduated last summer with a 4.0.  I was one of only three people in my program with such high marks.  That seemed safe and easy compared to thinking about broaching the mountain of writing a novel.
But one of my English comp professors befriended me after I was done with the program.  She asked me to sit in on her poetry class.  Okay.  Sure.  Why not?  I had  graduated, but I was floundering for purchase in the new world of the educated.  So I did.  It wasn’t long after that I remembered I had a passion for writing.
I love the freedom that comes from writing.  Whether it’s poetry or fiction, I just love writing.  So that one little class reignited the dying spark of my writing.
After the poetry class ended, I began searching for the original version of Reset.  I couldn’t find it!  It wasn’t on the old laptop I had used four years ago, because we’d wiped it when it got sick.  Those nasty computer viruses.  Frantically I searched high, low, wide, and tall for the back up version of my book.
I finally found it on a backup hard drive and I printed it out.  There were only six chapters done.  With my newfound courage and confidence, I began re-writing Reset.  I got up to four chapters and I asked my dear friend, Jill Sebacher, to read it.
I wanted her opinion on whether or not it should be written in first or third person.  Jill reluctantly agreed to read it.  All the while she was praying that it was half-way decent.  She never agrees to read people’s books.  It’s just too difficult to tell someone what they wrote is crap.  Besides, we’d just become friends and she didn’t want to destroy our friendship by telling me I should consider writing the directions on shampoo bottles.  You know, lather, rinse, and repeat.  Riveting, I’m sure.
But she didn’t think it was crap.  She also wanted me to keep Reset in first person.  Switching it to a third person perspective would completely lose Tia’s voice.  I concurred and so I continued writing.  Jill pushed me mercilessly the entire way.  She wanted two chapters at a time to read—purely for content.  She was not in editor mode, or teacher mode.  She just wanted to enjoy it as it developed.
So that is how it began.  I liken writing a novel to being pregnant.  At first, the novel is but a seedling—an egg.  It doesn’t exist as a living breathing entity until it is fertilized and nurtured.  For nine months (more or less depending on the mother and child), that egg grows into a fetus, still living inside its mother.  That’s the writing phase.  It’s all creation.  The feeding and nurturing of your baby from within.
Then, BAM!  That baby is done cooking and out it comes.  Well, my dear friends. That is not the end of the stretch marks or the agony.  When was the last time someone handed out a user manual for raising a child into a good and proper human being?  Never?  Yep, that’s about right.
So the editing and revising phase is the time between the actual birth of the child to the time that child goes off to college.  That was the most brutal part for me.  I was not prepared for how hard it would be.  I simply had no idea that baby I had created could possibly be better.  What?  You mean my words didn’t sprout like manna from the heavens?  I’m not the next JK Rowling?  Really?  OMG.
So, yeah.  That happened.  It hurt.  Basically, it sucked.  If I’d known it would be so brutal, I probably wouldn’t have done it.  But I did.  And as brutal as it was, just like giving birth without pain killers, I think the end result here well justified the means.  Ultimately, us women always warn our friends when they are thinking of having a child.  We relay horror stories of the birthing process.  We describe how our lives (and bodies) will never be the same post baby.  But then we see that bundle of pure joy and we think…yeah.  I did good.  I made that.  Look everyone, I created something pretty awesome.
According to author John Green:  “Pain demands to be felt.”  Well, I concur.  But, pain also lessens and dulls with time.  In my case, not too much time.  However, I am perfectly okay with enduring the pain of revising and editing if I can offer my readers the best possible read.  I’m game for that.  Let’s do this.
So here I go.  I am embarking on Book 2 of my Reset Trilogy.  I go into this fully prepared.  My diaper bag is packed.  I am ready with a good bottle (or three) of wine and possibly a giant bottle of Aleve.  I know that all children are different.
This child may be a little schizophrenic or have multiple personality disorder.  Who knows?  Maybe I do.  Maybe, if you were paying attention…I just gave you a peek at how I will be approaching Resist.  Hmm…