Journey to Publication: Two Weeks from Debut, A Rollercoaster of Emotions for this Upcoming Author
Navigating the thrills and fears of first-time publishing, I'm counting the days until my first book's release.
My first book comes out in two weeks, and I’ve been trying not to freak out.
Instead, I’ve been coaching my memoir clients, putting up Christmas decorations, knitting like a madwoman, and grocery shopping too many times each week. I’m also struggling to fall asleep, pushing through my days in a fog after crawling out of bed later and later each morning.
Anxiety? Nerves? Excitement? Surges of gratitude? Overwhelm?
Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.
For the next 14 days, I will still be an unpublished author…but then, on December 19, 2023, my first book will enter the world. I co-authored the book — Politics, Partnerships, & Power: The Lives of Ralph E. and Marguerite Stitt Church — with Jay Pridmore, and as the big day draws near, we’ve been exchanging friendly texts across the globe, brief little greetings that feel nothing like the long and convoluted passages we often shared as two people weaving together a biography about two people.
Looking back, I wonder, How the hell did we even do that?
Sometime near the beginning of the project (which first kicked off way back in 2016), I went for a walk with one of my writing mentors through the grounds of Northwestern University and offered a confession.
“I don’t even know where to begin.”
I looked at him. I don’t know what I was hoping for. Perhaps some sort of wise formula or an offer to send a spreadsheet that detailed how to go about writing a book about the lives of people I had never and would never meet.
His response was simple.
“Start with a timeline.”
A timeline? But, how would I know what goes on that timeline?
“Yes, a timeline. Just start filling in the details you know…then add to it as you research.”
This is a man who makes almost everything in life sound simple and straightforward, but since I’m someone who often overcomplicates things, I both admired and secretly loathed his nonchalance.
“Just start documenting the details, and the story will come together,” he said.
And you know what? He was right.
As I’ve grown from a newborn to a woman in the span of 55 years, I’ve rarely stopped to witness my personal growth in real time. Nearly every bit of my development has been recognized and acknowledged after the fact.
Still, there’ve been moments in my life when I’ve somehow had the presence of mind to actually FEEL GROWTH HAPPENING to me, and writing this book was one of those events.
From the minute I signed the contract (my first book contract ever), I knew I was on a journey of epic learning.
I didn’t yet know how to structure a biography.
Or how to work with a co-author.
Or how to befriend archivists.
Or how to pull myself out of the never-ending rabbit hole of research.
Or how to work my way into the homes of political leaders.
Or how to obtain photo permissions.
Or how to work with historians.
Or how to react when someone suggested I didn’t strike her as “the kind of person she’d have imagined would write a book like this.”
Or how to keep the project going when a loved one fell ill …or died.
Or how to co-write a book during a global pandemic.
Or how not to feel guilty when the project, at times, left me wanting to give up.
As a debut author two weeks away from publication, I look back now and realize that, although it’s been a roller coaster of emotions getting to this point, the journey has changed me for the better. Today, I know how to do so much more than before I started. I know so many more people. And, my skin is so much thicker. I just hope it’s thick enough to endure the upcoming reviews.
Looking ahead, my outlook feels like this:
While I try to keep excitement and curiosity at the forefront, I fight back my nagging insecurity every damn day.
I can’t yet picture what release day will even look like. Will the print copies be available, or will they be delayed? Will December 19th feel extra special — or like a regular Tuesday with a little special news tucked into my consciousness? All I know is, in two weeks, I’ll know the answer to that question.
The other day, I received an email from a grandson of Ralph and Marguerite Stitt Church, asking me for an autographed copy of the book. I explained what an honor it was to hear from him, that I don’t have any copies yet, and that I’d be delighted to sign a copy when I do.
It’s been my hope for so long that this book — the first ever written about this political power couple — will shed, among many other things, some much needed light on women in mid-20th century politics. Marguerite was one of the first 50 women to enter Congress, and I found the story of her journey absolutely remarkable. After having spent so much time pouring through archives holding congressional records and newspaper columns and the couple’s personal papers, I hope I might offer new insights to the couple’s surviving family members.
For now, I’ll keep staring at the walls and watering my plants and knitting my heart out — counting the days until I hold my first book in my hands and declare to no one else but myself: I did it.
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Congrats! So exciting!
Congratulations! Hang in there! 💪👏🏼🧡🔆