After almost two years, the book is almost ready.
One of the problems inherent in attempting to publish a book on your own is the editing process. Given how manic my creativity is, curbing the flow of words to work on refining them is a daunting prospect. I am not opposed to the work, but my job... my purpose is to create.
So here we are, final draft submitted to my editor and I get to sit on pins and needles waiting for those last minute changes to come swarming in. At a time like this I begin to reflect on the trials this book has gone through.
The Dead Dream Wakes was started on a random whim back in 2006 or 2007, I can't quite remember. I was bored at home during the winter and had a daydream about a young man standing in front of a building. I've always had a love affair with old, spooky buildings, but I wanted this to be much more ominous and alive. I could feel the weight of the Steelworks like an oppressive force crushing my chest. I felt it, I loved it... so I wrote it.
Then I wrote more... and more. I got more than fifty pages down in one day and proudly handed them to my girlfriend at the time to read. She was not impressed. In fact, only half of my manuscript was looked at before she put it down, explained she did not like reading and suggested we go to the bar. I was crushed. Never before had I felt so excited about creating something. I had never been so ...
inspired. To have to rejected hit me very hard and I put the book away for a number of years.
Many things happened between then and when I picked it back up. I moved across the country and back. I left that girl, narrowly avoiding marriage. I fell into yet another line of work. Met a wonderful woman and moved to New Orleans (for the second time).
This was summer of 2009. The girl I was with was named Katelyn. She is a wonderful person and now a very dear friend. When I mentioned, back then, that I had started a book, she wasn't just surprised, but excited. She eagerly asked to read what I had and after a little hesitation I handed it over. She devoured it and hungrily asked for more, more, more.
So I went back to writing. Two and a half months later, I was quite surprised to find I had written a novel. Shortly after that, Katelyn and I split ways and I came back to Oregon. But the momentum she had given me was not abating. I continued to write and began trying to push my book out there. I won't detail in this post the issues I had in seeking traditional publishing (I'll save that for another time) but I will mention the editing.
The biggest obstacle in getting this book complete has always been finding an objective and experienced point of view to work out the kinks. I'd wager nearly every book that has ever existed has needed some form of editing at some point. And while Katelyn and several friends of mine have all put their marks on this book, it was still lacking something: professionalism.
Enter Lynne. A wonderful woman who has truly helped this project find completion. I have no idea what I could have done to deserve such providence. Being the mother of one of my best friends, I was very shocked to find she was a professional editor and excited to hear about my book and eager to help me out with it.
And that, really, is what it comes down to: Excitement. A huge motivating factor that can mean life or death for any book. Having another person hungry for what you create, craving that sharing of deep and personal insights. To write, for me, is to expose a part of my soul to another person. It's intimate and more than a little perverse (in my brain). Showing that side of yourself and finding it not only accepted but loved? Is incredible and has truly been the fuel for this all to happen.
