Good, bad, or indifferent, I’m a nurturer. Even though my children are all grown and on their own I suppose I will always be involved in their lives, by their design as much as from my desire. Our son is off cross country to California on an inter-office job interview. It’s a wonderful opportunity for him and one I wholeheartedly support. Like his older sisters, he is ready to strike out on his own. Perhaps it’s because he’s the youngest, the only boy, I don’t know the dynamic, whatever it is his separation seems to be the toughest. Our family constellation is small and thrives on our close relationships. When everyone’s together there’s lots of laughter, tumult, of course the family dinner, sometimes everyone sleeps over (at our house), and usually a delicious Sunday brunch.
Our son, like his sisters, is more than capable and ready to move on. It’s so difficult to let go but now is his time to shine, stand on his own, and show the world the stuff of which he’s made. As with each of my children, I look on with pride, and sometimes misty eyes, as they take the lead and move forward in their own adventure. They each know I am always here and ready to listen.
Is it any wonder I have the same problem letting go of my manuscript.
I’ve tended it from conception through to completion. I nurtured and breathed life into each character crying with them, laughing with them, feeling their passion and disappointment. I’ve shaped the plot, delivered a cohesive story, while staying true to the values and ethics of my genre.
However, as ready as it was I hesitated sending it out. Just one more rewrite, one more edit. It had been a part of me for over a year, how could I let it go.
Finally, after some prodding from my dear writing friends, I sent it out and had great results. Now it’s in the very capable hands of my awesome editor, Denise Nielsen at Carina Press, getting ready for publication.
I feel the pride in my accomplishment and the excitement builds as I move toward the next step of my journey. When I speak to the kids I find eager ears listening as I recant plans and ideas, enthusiastic voices chiming in with encouragement and suggestions. My younger daughter startled me when she mentioned it was time for them to let me go. That they all watched on with pride at my drive, creativity, and accomplishments. She also said I make a mean brisket.
How do you feel about letting go? And let me know if you want a great brisket recipe!