I had a month away from home. A month at my old home. The place where I grew up. With my family.
And now - jet lag. Appreciation of what was. Marveling at the speed of it. The indulgence of it. Loving my old life with fresh eyes.
Yes, it is always good to get away, to have a lovely time all the while letting the break build appreciation for the life created at home.
The editing is done on my book, thank you Nicole Watson, she understood my writing and cleaned it up without changing my voice. Priceless really. Now I am formatting my manuscript again for the CreateSpace template. It could have been done by now, but honestly I am dragging my cold feet.
Why? I don't know, something to do with putting myself out there, being bare, reading too many one star Amazon reviews on other books and knowing the boldness of people who would tear you to pieces while they drink their morning coffee. It would be easier to stay home and keep my ideas to myself. It would be easier to write a story for my friends who are delighted that I did it and supportive of my efforts.
Oh, I don't know, something to do with putting myself out there, being bare, realizing that, worse than criticism, the audience may be mute, indifferent, absent. I am a people person. I have never had a strong internal motivation drive. I am a 'clean the house in 30 minutes if a friend says she is on her way' kind of person. I have always worried about turn out at a party. For me to put on a party where no one shows is one of my life's big horrors! I remember when I was 4 hiding on the attic stairs waiting for my birthday party to start and feeling a deep relief when the doorbell finally chimed. It meant that at least someone came. I like a big party. But I know I need a big invite list to get a few people to show up. For this book, in the grand scheme of things, I don't even have a small invite list! As it is today, I don't really want to do the things I should to market my book, to get an audience to read my story. How can someone read a book they don't know about? And given that will the silence ruin my fragile motivation to keep writing? Can I keep doing this just for me?
Yes, I guess I have old fashioned stage fright. Nothing new in the world. Just my version of it and as I am publishing the book myself I have no deadline. I have no one telling me I have to do this or do that. Here in lies freedom, but also the problem. And in that freedom I am dragging my cold feet.