You know when someone has a baby and then for six months all they do is talk about the baby? Well, I just had another baby – this time a book and not a boy. Although it is a book about a boy. Based on the boy that I do have. Anyway.
I have a finished manuscript in my hands. I have an isbn number. A barcode. A copyright. A whole lot of knowledge about the printing and publishing business that I didn’t have six months ago. I just sent files to a printer. I just okayed said printer to take a lot of money from me. I made something, I fretted over every detail, and now I let it go, out into the big, scary world. Fly, little birdie, fly!
Am I scared? Oh, you can bet on it. My husband says, “What are you scared of? This is the fun part.” Never has it been so clear to me that we have very different ideas of what fun is. Writing it was fun. Watching Catherine’s beautiful and imaginative interpretation of my poem unfold was awesome. Researching printing and publishing options? Figuring out pricing? Dealing with copyrights? Feeling like I was signing my life away a little bit? Yeah, that stuff was not fun.
And now comes the selling part. There is not a lot of money to be made here, and that’s fine. If I can recoup the money I’ve put in, that will be really nice. I don’t think either one of us is really looking to become superstars of the picture book world yet (so relax, Sandra Boynton), but we are anxious to prove ourselves as worthy participants in the genre. Because we’ve both got lots more stories to tell. In the meantime, I sure hope you like this one.