With my heart in my mouth, I’m coming clean on my blog today. I don’t know why it’s taken this long. Perhaps it’s that creative perfection gene that runs so strongly through my veins. It’s not good enough, it needs more spit-and-polish, what if they reject me….
For those of you who don’t follow me on Twitter or Facebook and just rely on blog posts to keep updated with my latest, about a week ago I put the first 14 chapters of my book – Into The Bliss: Having & Holding Ellanor – up online for public reading.
If you would like to get a feel for the book and what I’ve been banging on about for the past five years (and thank you for staying and listening if you’ve been with me on the journey for any of that time!), you are welcome to read it. A comment or some sort of feedback would be lovely (many of you creative/writerly types would understand the way that makes a heart sing), but it’s not necessary. The gift is in being able to share it with you and I give it out in good faith that it will reach the eyes and touch the hearts of those of you needing to find something in it.
I wrote it not for me. Not to settle scores. Not to rewrite history or state facts or lay claim to grief. I wrote it for everything. Everyone. The All of this thing called life, and the intangible but undeniable realm that lies beyond life – in both directions.
Actually, that’s not entirely true. It pretty much wrote itself. The working title of this book, in the beginning, was a joke between myself and Steve. We actually called it “This Thing Writes Itself.” I was floored at the way it came together. I was humbled into something akin to stage fright at the story I could see. The realisations that came to me as I would quickly fumble for the light switch and write thoughts down on paper in the middle of the night. Sometimes, I would have entire chapters hanging in my head like heavy water balloons. I would get up, freezing cold in the dead of winter, wrap myself in something warm, pray that the LGBB wouldn’t get up too early (she was seven months old when I began this) and burst them onto my Word document. Woken by her. Ellanor. I would come out of sleep with her urging me out into the still, silent house so that I could capture the magic. Occasionally, I’d try and do it without waking too much – I would type with my hands flying across the keyboard, eyes closed, still half asleep, drearily hit the ‘Save’ command and drop back into bed with barely half an hour before the LGBB was likely to wake.
I came to discover that my best and most creative, uninterrupted time was between 2am and about 6 in the morning just as the dawn crept in. Poetic, wouldn’t you say?
I wrote myself out of the dark both literally and …. literaril..y…. during the course of writing this book.
But despite this, I maintain, I didn’t write it for me. It was merely a wonderful bonus, to be able to explore the depths of this far-reaching thing called Life. See what you think. Don’t be afraid! It’s not as indulgently doomy and gloomy a pity-party as one might expect. In fact, rather the opposite. Well… so I’m told (it’s hard to be objective about such things as the author).
I have a couple of public massive thank you’s to offer, at this point, because I’m so grateful for what I have received — from Shae (from Free Range In Suburbia) who shares top billing in my blogging circle for being one of only two people so far who has read the entire book; the generous and highly gifted author in his own right, Steve (from Bloggertropolis) is the other who made it to the last page; Toushka Lee (from Toushkalee.com) who I’ve also entrusted the whole book to (thank you, T!); Suz (who writes at Autism Our Words); Anna (as in, Anna Spargo-ryan… she writes proper like, for a living… I am not worthy) who is sticking with it and meandering somewhere in the latter chapters and possibly regretting putting her hand up and admitting she liked the memoir genre; Naomi (who can be found Under The Yardarm), my dear friend Allie from my first foray into online forums eight years ago (who blogs In A Beautiful Pea Green Boat) and also a number of other generous friends from my Facebook world who don’t have blogs but who have been stalwart readers, supporters and cheerleaders during this long process. They’ve read varying versions as the book has been drafted, redrafted, heavily edited, cut and spliced since 2007. Some of them would possibly hardly recognise the story if they read it now.
What do you think? Will you read it? Have you read it? If you give the chapters on Authonomy.com a go and feel it worthy, please help me spread the word. My aim is to get an agent for this. I’m working on it. I’m told time and again that it’s a book that “needs to be published”. However, “needs” and “will” remain two vastly different realities.
It’s like winning the lottery, I know….