The End. Finally finished first draft

The End.

Finally those words where typed at the end of my first full novel. An impossible dream real.

Now I will be the first to admit that I rushed the end, that a lot of work if not some rewriting is needed to make it perfect. But step one was finished. I had done it!

Doing a Jig around my kitchen, the excitement of really seeing the possibility of a dream become reality a little heady.

My head filled with dreams of seeing my book for sale filled my head. How would my cover look? Would I use my maiden name or my married name? And so the wonderful thrill of success ran through my head like a wonderful movie.

Eagerly I emailed copies to my friends, many whom are avid readers like myself and hard to please. I really wanted their feed back before I started editing. Their advice, important to me. After all if they didn’t like then what where the chances of a publisher liking it?

Days went by, and I got no response. Then a week, after which I called them all, to make sure they had all received the email ok. Yes yes and they promised to get it to as soon as they could.

Didn’t they realise I had given them my baby? my first completed story since i was 16. In their hands lay the ability to crush or make my dream a living possibility. Their opinion growing more important as doubts filled my mind. Did I make my characters real enough? Is their growing love believable? 

As the weeks became months and bad writing habits had reformed (more surfing the internet then actual writing) I found myself listening to that little voice in the back of my head. (It sounds a lot like my mother) 

It told me I was wasting my time, that if my friends who knew how important it was too me, didn’t find the time to read the book once they had started, then it mustn’t be any good. And as soon as thought was allowed in, my writing suffered. My steady thousand plus words a day dropped to a dribble. as I let myself wallow in self doubt.

Nothing seemed to come out on the page right. Ideas abounding all over the place did nothing to help as I was never sure if I was writing the right thing or not...

Even with a completed first draft of a novel in front of me, all the old fears that had delayed me writing in the first place, came back with a roaring vengeance.

As a writer I am a little touchy, my husband refuses to read anything I write and when he dose I get a score out of ten, he doesn’t want to upset me or worse make me stop writing by giving to in depth critique. for in the past I used it as an excuse not to write, to give into my fears which at times seem so much easier to believe in them my dreams.

But I don’t want to stop writing, even if no one ever publishes my novel, writing gives me joy creating a story, watching it grow and seeing where it will take both me as the writer and an observer of life.

Now three months have passed and I still haven’t heard anything from friends. I am sure in time I will, but I am not going to hide behind the words The End anymore. Because its not. It’s only the beginning.

I am starting my editing tonight; with fresh eyes after all I haven’t looked at it in months. It is my baby and I only I can decide if it will live and breathe or not.

Trust in your dream, visualize it. Do not let the inner voice of doubt stop you from aiming for the moon after all you may just land in the stars.