Last night at 11:41 pm, I accomplished something I have been dreaming of most of my life. I finished my first novel. The feeling of accomplishment is something I cannot explain. I'm so excited!
I've known I wanted to be a writer since I was in the sixth grade. It's in my blood. I have boxes and boxes of things that I have written that no one has read. It's always been private. As I approached 40 I became determined to realize my goal. I knew I was ready, so I sat down and started putting paper to pen. The ideas flowed easily, like they always do and my baby was born.
After I wrote the last word on the page, I was filled with so many positive emotions that I cannot put it into words. I've spent a lot of my life doubting myself and not thinking I was good enough. Usually, I cry tears of joy when something good happens in my life. This time, I was so happy that I didn't feel like crying. I felt like celebrating.
I fell to my knees and thanked the Lord for blessing me with the talent and creativity that allowed me to even think about writing a book. I asked for the strength to do the work that will be required to see my baby all the way through to publishing.
I'll admit i'm a little scared, but i'm ready. It's time for me to share my work with the world.