Saturday April 30 marks the day I wrote the end to my 9th full length novel. Emotions ran high that afternoon.
I missed being able to hug my husband and to hear him tell me congratulations. He was my biggest fan. And marketer. He told everyone I was a published author, even strangers. It’s a wonderful feeling to have someone be proud of your accomplishments. It’s different now, being a solitary writer. I sometimes think about the writing groups I once was part of. I left those behind when my husband needed my care more than I needed those groups. But I won’t get into the past today.
Another emotion was saying goodbye to the characters. This was sad and happy at the same time. I love happy endings and my characters reached theirs. But they lived in my mind night and day talking to me and now they are silent. Their story has been told.
I’m looking forward to the next adventure but while I am looking through ideas for plots, my writing is turning to telling my own story. The stories of my youth. Of things forgotten by today’s world. Of the future writer who escaped into other worlds as she walked along creek banks deep in the woods. This is my legacy to my children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. I haven’t yet decided if I will make the book available to the outside world.
As I lift my cup of tea and smile at the view outside my window and give thanks to God, I am peaceful and filled with gratitude for the gift He has given me.