Four years. That’s how long I’ve been working on my novel about a late bloomer. And what a revelatory process it’s been. Whether my book ends up selling dozens of copies or millions, I’ve been enriched by the process.
Is it done? No.
I’d hoped it would be finished by the time I started blogging again, but at least I’m on the downward stretch and can see the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. There were times I doubted I had the stamina, let alone the skill, to write a readable story, but I kept working at my craft, cranking out the pages.
Why am I telling you this? Because there’s a lesson here:
Even if you’re not sure you’ve got what it takes to do what you dream of doing, go for it. Take classes, if you think that would help. Join some kind of support group, if you’re the kind of person who needs encouragement. Find a mentor. Experiment. Perhaps even take a break for a while. (I did all of these.)
But don’t give up.
P.S. I became a first-time grandmother this summer. Here are two photos of Lydia Rose, born July 2nd in New York City--one of her with her father, my 33-year old son Gabe; the other with my 86-year old mom and me. What an incredible experience it's been watching my child nurture his child!