I am in the final days of finishing a book. I can actually see the ending. Can almost reach out and touch it. I'm in that frenetic stage where every time an idea pops into my head, I scribble it in my Rolling Plot Journal, desperate not to lose anything that might be of use.
And I am SO ready to be done with the story, to send it off to my editor and pray that she will be pleased with the result. Trust me, I'll be anxious until I find out her feelings about it. I'm always anxious when I send off a book, always afraid that I have totally failed.
I was thinking on Sunday morning that I've been doing this for 30 years. Wow! Something else I thought of. The first novel I wrote was set during the Civil War in Georgia and now this novel I'm finishing (release #64) is set during the Civil War in Idaho Territory. It sort of feels like I've come full circle since these are the only two books I've set in this era.
When I put pen to paper back in 1981 to begin writing my first novel, my daughters were 12 and 10. Now they each have a kid graduating from high school in a few weeks. I never dreamed when I wrote that first story that it would lead to 63 more. And as wonderful as my writing career has been, nothing in my life is as great an accomplishment as being Mom to Micki and Jennifer. I have made a string of mistakes in my life. I've fouled up and fallen flat on my face so many times. But I know I did a few things right when I look at my girls.
Thank You, God, for blessing me with these beautiful daughters.
Now, off to finish this book. Somebody's about to get shot, and somebody else has to realize the truth, and since this is a romance, two people have to get together before I can type "The End."