THEY'RE HE---ERE!!

My books arrived today while I was off visiting my daughter and granddaughter. As I pulled into my driveway, I could see a very large box sitting up on my porch and my heart nearly jumped from my chest.

I pulled into the garage, and rather than rush upstairs and tear into the box, I sedately walked out to the mailbox and grabbed the mail. Then, I forced myself to walk equally as calmly back into the house.

As the garage door closed, I went into the basement, took a deep breath and proceeded at a normal pace up the stairs – looking through the mail at the same time. There were a lot of bills, but then, it’s that time of the month. I needed to check a couple of them to make certain we were given credit for some returns, but as I neared the top of the stairs, I realized just how close the front door was . . . and the box was just on the other side of the door.

Ok. I know myself. If I gave in and brought the box inside there’s no way I’d go back to being a responsible bill-paying adult. I’d have to languish in the feel of the books – at least the first time without my gloves protecting my fingers, anyway. Then there would be that tantalizing aroma of a new book. And, of course, this isn’t just ANY new book; this is a book I wrote, that has my name on it.

So . . . bypass the front door, out to the kitchen table and go through the mail. Good heavens, they must have killed several trees just to torment me with all this stuff – it’s probably those four trees Magellan Oil and Gas chopped down in my backyard in May!

I went through the bills one by one, methodically looking over charges, checking due dates – but I could swear there was a voice calling to me just outside my front door. My Himalayan cat was sitting at my feet, waiting to see if I would shower her with all the junk mail so she could roll around in it for a while. I disappointed her, though, and put the discarded items in the trash can.

With the bills safely ensconced in my mail/bill holder, I took a deep breath and started for the front door. But I bypassed it yet again and headed down the hall for the cordless phone I keep in my office.

I hit the speed dial for the daughter I’d just left, and as it went through its gyrations and began to ring, I pulled the box inside.

“Ye-es,” Kelly answered.

“Guess what’s here.” I knew of course this wasn’t hard to figure out.

“Your books!” Said my oldest daughter, my first editor on everything I write (well, except for this blog entry tonight).

We talked for a moment as I cut the tape from the box and opened it. When I raised that first book in my hands, saw my title and name, I nearly hyperventilated. But I held it together.

Ok, I didn’t do that great a job, but I did try!

After Kelly and I made arrangements to meet for a celebratory dinner at 54^th Street, I called my husband, Chris, and let him know we had books. He was in the middle of some stuff, so I didn’t get quite the reaction I’d hoped for. So. . . on to daughter number two. I was pretty sure Randi and my grandkids weren’t home today, so I dialed her cell number (to be honest, it’s on speed dial). No answer.

I HAVE to tell people!!! THE CASE OF THE BOUNCING GRANDMA IS NOW AVAILABLE!!

On to the computer to let my publisher and other Sheaf House authors know the box arrived safe and sound. NEED MORE SHARING!! I sent an announcement to the ACFW Loop and then began preparing the packages for my Influencers.

I dialed Randi again and she answered!! She needed to get the kids down for a nap so I couldn’t yak long – a short but sweet conversation.

I’m alone again in my office. Just my cat, the books, this computer, and me. The books smell awesome, the pages look inviting – is that wrong to say about something I wrote myself????

Aw, well. If this is wrong . . . I don’t wanna be right.

2007 – Time to Throw in the Towel . . . or, YOU WANT WHAT?

My fingers and hands continued their reprieve from pain through Christmas of 2006 and I was able to bake and cook to my heart’s content. I even made my standard holiday gifts – calendars – for friends and family without discomfort!

Once the holidays were over, it was time to continue work on A Question of Survival, the Women’s Fiction I’d begun with the help of NaNoWriMo. I had all kinds of ideas, had created some “songs” for the Christian musician character, and was anxious to incorporate everything into the manuscript. That’s when the pain hit – and it wasn’t messing around this time.

Pain hypersensitivity was bad enough in general, but having it concentrated on my fingertips was worse than anything I’d experienced previously. It was so bad I couldn’t stand to touch myself, let alone anything else! Still, the independent database work I did from home had to get done. The question was how.

Tucking pencils between my fingers, I found that I could do ten key inputs without ever having to physically touch the computer keys. It was awkward, but it worked. So did the little white gloves I found in the cosmetics section of our grocery store. They softened the impact of typing. Not a lot, but enough to allow me to keep from falling behind in my work.

Just not enough to try typing an entire manuscript.

Prayers from the members of the ACFW Prayer Loop and visits to The Healing Rooms kept me sane – or at least as sane as I’ve ever been. But as the days, weeks, and months went by, I knew that I had a decision to make: Do I continue to work at being a writer, or do I finally let the dream go?

It’s difficult to listen to that still small voice when there’s so much inner noise clamoring to be heard. Logic told me that a writer who couldn’t type wasn’t about to make it – but several ACFW friends reminded me there was always voice recognition software. We checked into that, but our computer wasn’t equipped to handle the software, and we couldn’t afford to buy a new one. Another door closed before it was opened. Surely this was the sign I’d prayed for – the one that told me it was time to accept that my dream of being a published author wasn’t going to happen.

I was ready – well, as ready as I could be – to say goodbye to writing, to ACFW and the dream I’d had since I was twelve. I prepared myself, told Chris and my girls my decision, and was about to resign . . .

Then a request for prayer came across the Prayer Loop from Joan Hochstetler. I’d been following Joan’s Publishing Dream blog as she set up the small press Sheaf House. We’d exchanged a lot of emails over the past several years, and I’d always enjoyed talking with her. As I prepared an answer to her prayer request, I asked how things were going with Sheaf House and told her that I was praying for its success, too. What happened next blew me away.

She asked about my writing, if I thought I might have a manuscript that might fit Sheaf House. I’d checked out the genres and knew mystery and suspense weren’t on her list, but she’d asked . . . I told her briefly about my three completed manuscripts and asked which, if any, she’d be interested in seeing. Her response: SEND ALL THREE!

Needless to say, I was floored. But she didn’t have to tell me twice. Mirrored Image, A Twist of Faith, and The Case of the Bouncing Grandma went off in cyberspace within moments of her request. Even more remarkable – when she started reading BG, she didn’t want to put it down! Emails with “I’m still laughing” lifted up my heart and my hopes. My fingers still hurt, but God had given me my answer.

Approximately two weeks after that first email, I was talking to Joan on the phone and trying to believe that The Case of the Bouncing Grandma was actually going to be published –IN A YEAR!

Now, here I am, almost a year from the date of acceptance, and BG is at the printers. In the last year we have gone through trying to add 10,000 words to BG – but only getting 7000; editing that took away and then added another 3000 words; the excitement of seeing the rough drafts and final versions of the Bouncing Grandma Mysteries logo and the cover of BG; and a myriad of other things that have gone into the production. It’s been frustrating, exciting, and sometimes harder than I could have imagined. I’ve learned the difference between Chicago Manual of Style and APA – well, sort of – and I hope I’ve learned to be more patient and understanding with myself and others. I’ve been amazed and humbled at the generosity of my wonderful publisher – take a bow, Joan – and of those incredible authors who agreed to read my rough manuscript for possible endorsement – and liked it! Thank you Christy Barritt, Sharon Dunn, Cathy Elliott, and Jill Elizabeth Nelson – you are all AWESOME!

Now . . . we await delivery, and I get to hold my first published novel!