I haven’t written for a long time. I’ve been in the process of moving from Spain to Canada and all my energies have been focused on the endings and beginnings involved in such a move.
More House is now available in shops and online. I haven’t re-read it yet – just skimmed parts – but I was informed yesterday by my brother that I’d spelled his name AND my sister’s name wrong in the acknowledgements. I tried to blame it on the publisher but my brother responded with, “Well, you sent me an email yesterday with my name spelled wrong in it.” Damn. How I’ve managed to spell two of my siblings’ names wrong for most of my life is beyond me. I checked the acknowledgements repeatedly because I had a fear that I’d spell somebody’s name wrong and offend them forever. My name has been spelled wrong on an acknowledgements page before and it was annoying.
Anyway, they’ve both forgiven me, or so they say.
How does it feel to hold the book in my hands? Good. Of course, good. But it’s not how I thought it would feel. Publishing for the writer is an end result, while for the reader it marks the beginning of something. I like the feeling of completion, of everything being bound together and frozen. I cannot tinker and fiddle with the text anymore. It’s a finished product that can never be changed. It makes me feel a little helpless, but the feeling of liberation is far greater. Now I am free to focus on something else entirely, with all my energy and passion. That’s why publishing is so healthy on a psychological level. It gives the writer the closure he or she needs to really move on to the next project.
