It has been two years since my memoir came out, and the reality of that dream coming true has both sunk in and managed to become surreal. Sometimes, I need a reminder that it all actually happened.
And then someone will mention it to me, or email me to tell me that they just finished it, or I’ll see it on a shelf at a bookstore and it’ll hit me: Oh, yeah. I wrote a book. I actually did it. That was the whole “life goal I’ve had since I was 8” that I realized.
And then learning that my book was coming out in paperback? Well, that’s sort of started the whole sinking-in-surreal-wait-I-really-did-that process anew.
As my editor told me about halfway through the editing process, you only really learn to write a book by, well, writing a book. And you can usually tell – usually about half or