107,704: A Revelation

On Friday, May 3rd at 10:52 PM, I finished my novel. The final word count is 107,704.

And I am learning to accept that it will always be better in my head than it is on the page. The truth of the matter is, finishing this book has been a series of thoughts: The way that I have edited and re-edited the language because this is a language-centered book. The way that I drank countless cups of tea over the past month. The way that I want to hold onto the fact that it is time to move on.

My dear friend, Kateland, gave me a wonderful acronym to apply here: GETMO. Good enough to move on. I think this is sagacious. The fact is that I am filled with mixed feelings, from the excitement that Monday, May 6th, I send out my first fleet of query letters. But also there is the dread that it will get turned down by every agent in America.

The next step is to load the document onto jump drives for my family (Savannah is a cheapskate and won’t print it out). Then, today, I polish my synopsis, my query letters, my sense of courage that I can and should do this.

And then there is this: I wrote this book because I wanted to write this book. If it does get laughed out of every publisher’s office, I will know that it is alright, that I worked so incredibly hard, and that I will still have my beloved language to sustain me, to convey me forward into the next project.

Maybe we writers will never be totally and wholly happy with what we do. But I am compelled to do it anyway. I have wanted this my entire life. My mother even named me Savannah because she thought it sounded like a writer’s name.

It is finished. Go quietly into the waters, Savannah, and let them lap over you. Go into the deserts and let the heat barrel down on you. Be at peace that you did the best you could.