Get 'er done

Learning how to write a book has almost become more important than actually typing the words. 

I've discovered the value of adding "writing" to a large chunk of my smartphone's calendar, every single day. No meetings, no coffee dates, just "writing." 

Writing, of course, means powering through a solid hour of wordsmithing and critical thinking, then taking a break, usually involving wood chopping, dog-running, or baking. Baking is an excellent respite from writing, I have found. Or, at least, a peace offering to the family for which I have forgotten to provide clean laundry. At any rate, the hour on-hour off system seems comfortable enough. 

The edit process is a fascinatinating journey through my own psyche. Am I really up to this? What if I change things around and it's not the same book, anymore? Oh no, that great idea I had at 4 a.m. - I can't remember what it was! 

I'm aware of every word I add or delete, every descriptive sentence I carefully script, where it goes.  I know about every restaurant, every hotel, every attraction, and I can't help but think I owe future readers more than just a listing of places to go and things to do. 

A careful, thoughtful, process. 

Why 95,000 Words Can't Be Wrong

After weeks of anxious nail-biting, gallons of coffee, and late nights, it has been completed. Alaska On the Go: Exploring the 49th State With Children was pushed northward in November.

This poor blog had been woefully neglected since late September, I admit it. But between bringing one child home from an out-of state school to begin life as a young adult managing autism, and sending another off to second grade, and working on various freelance projects, and the manuscript, everything else got shoved aside.

My calendar was blocked off for three or four or more hours a day, and I lived in fleece pants, Adidas slippers, and my favorite Alaska Brewing Company hoodie. But one day, it was done.

I changed my clothes, drove to meet Editor at our favorite coffee shop, made a few logistical adaptations, said a quick prayer for safe travels, and hit "send."

Refusing to consider the parking ticket I had on my car when I left the University of Alaska campus as a bad omen, I turned up my Brandi Carlile CD and sang the entire way home.

A few encouraging emails later from the acquisitions editor, and my manuscript was on its way to external reviewers; parents who travel and a savvy bunch of people indeed. I hate criticism, who doesn't? But darned if these people liked what I said, save for some great ideas and suggestions I should have probably anticipated anyway.

So here I am again, making some changes, adding some things, and crafting a letter to the publishing house's advisory board.

The best part? A sentence from Acquisitions Editor.

"...I'm attaching our boilerplate contract so you can get a sense of the document."