It’s taken me years. Actual years.
I started writing my first book in 2009, I think it was. I’ve written a few since then but this was the one I was determined to finish and try to get published first because it’s my baby.
Edit after edit, painful year after year, I’ve worked on this to the point of not even knowing if it’s that good any more but right now I don’t care.
After my last edit I realised I wanted to re-write a main theme and totally change the ending and that feat has taken me another year to do because I have this terrible problem where I JUST HATE FINISHING THINGS.
I’m over that now, I’ve worked through it, but this was still my Everest. I’m so happy to have reached the top and I’m even happier I can move on to editing my next novel whilst trying to get this one out into the world.
I can’t tell you what it’s called because that’s something I’m still not sure I like and also that would just be telling but I wanted to document how this feels. Elation is not a strong enough word.
I know getting published is going to be the next slog but GOOD GOD! I’m prepared for a million knock backs from agents. If Fifty Shades can get published my tame YA novel surely has a chance?