That Day I Finished Writing My First Novel

I keep a lot of things to myself.  No one outside my immediate family knew I was writing a novel until after I'd already been working on it for two years.  It didn't feel real for a really long time, so it didn't seem worth mentioning and now that I'm done I still haven't really mentioned it.  I didn't post about it here, until I'd been seriously working on it for nine months.  On June 11th, 2014 at approximately 12:15pm; three years, 450 pages of double spaced Times New Roman, and 106,585 words later I finished my novel.  Just the week before I had to quit working on it because I hated it so much.  I was so close to the end, and I just wanted to be done with it already so I forced myself to keep opening that word document. I went at it again that day, and two hours later there was nothing left to type. 

Me and my manuscript

My first thought was Oh my gosh.  I think I just finished my novel.  I sat there staring at my screen for a few minutes while my eyes welled with tears.  I sat with it for a while on my own.  It felt like the best way to really take it in and enjoy the incredible wave of happiness washing over me.  I thought about texting my mom, or MJ but I decided I'd rather say it in person because it's not something you get the opportunity to say very often. Then I tweeted it because what else do you do in this day and age?  I was bursting.  I had to tell someone and it was my way of shouting it out to the world, but at the same time still keeping it a wonderful secret to enjoy and savor for myself.  I got some really sweet replies from some of you that made me even more excited.

I didn't look at it for a few days after I finished, but then tons of ideas started rolling in and the editing process began.  It was non stop.  I was jotting down notes in my phone and imagining different scenarios in my head constantly. Every time I looked at it, I frantically added or changed something.   The revising part was way easier then writing the thing in the first place.  I was actually really enjoying it and having a lot more fun with it than I had in a while.  That went on for a month until it got really exhausting and I needed it to stop.  I was so enmeshed in the process that after a while I couldn't see what I was reading anymore.  I felt like I was changing things just to be changing them, so I knew it was time to take a break.  I added 3,219 words and 14 pages by then, when I have a feeling I probably needed to trim it down.

My parents were coming down that Saturday and I decided right then and there that I would going to FedEx Kinko's to print it out and let my mom read it.  I always knew that if I let anyone read it at all, it would be her.  I had come to a nice resting point with the editing and I couldn't look at it anymore so it seemed like the right time to take a break.  I could get some feedback, regroup and then go over it again for more edits with a fresh eye.

It takes a while to print out that many pages so we were there for a bit, and it was really special having my mom there.  At one point the lady doing the print job said, "So who's the author?" I got to raise my hand and say, "Me.  I wrote it,"  and that felt really good.  Thank goodness I told her double sided because when finished it was pretty thick. Total cost: $25 bucks.  I planned to put it into a binder, but it would have been a whole lot of pages to three hole punch and I didn't even have a binder that thick so it went into a box.  That stack of paper is a physical representation of  so much time and effort.  I wrote all of that?  It's really hard to believe that I finally have something to show for all those years I've been tapping away at my computer.   I can officially say I have a manuscript now and it feels really strange because I never imagined myself to be a person that would ever get to say that.  

My shadow on the beaches of Playa Del Carmen, MX

Five years ago I didn't know how to start writing a novel and then, once I started, I didn't know if I could finish.  For 2 1/2 years I essentially gave up.  Life got busy and I told myself that I must be crazy to think I can actually write a novel anyway.  I put it aside, but that desire to write kept on coming back.  The yearning to finish what I started would not go away, so I dusted it off and committed myself to 15 pages a month for however long it took; which turned out to be three years.  I didn't put too much pressure on myself which was helpful.  When I reached the minimum acceptable novel length word count, I focused on finishing the story and finishing it this year.  When it was finally done, I didn't know if I'd ever print it out, then I didn't know if I'd let anyone read it, and now I don't know if I'll ever publish.  I've been winging it every step of  the way. Going from the desire to write a novel to the act of spending three years actively trying to do it has been all about me loving to write and wanting to do it for myself.  With all honesty, I can truly say that finishing it was my ultimate goal and if I never do a thing with it I'll be okay. 

It's fiction.  It might not be any good, but the story I've poured my heart and and soul into for three years is done and that alone makes me really happy because wishing I could write a novel got really old.  I wanted to do it.  There are many things in life I haven't got a shot in hell at accomplishing, but deep down I knew that writing a novel was not one of those things.  I wasn't convinced I could do it but I had to try because there are some things in life that you know you have to do even if you don't believe that you can.  I wanted to accomplish at least one goal in my lifetime that I could be really be proud of.  This is that thing, and I'm glad to finally be able to say I did it.