Writing When Camels Fly has been a three-year adventure in an otherwise ordinary and remarkable life. (Yes,both are possible.) Lots of paper has crossed my desk, even more files are buried, like the artifacts my heroine seeks, in my computer.
This week, I opened a box of eagerly awaited paperback proofs to find myself staring back at me in quadruplicate. I’m not sure why, but the sight stopped me cold, and freaked me out a bit. (Note I’m still hiding the cover!)
I guess I’ve considered the book a mental endeavor, instead of an extension of myself. But as I stared, looking at me, I realized that the novel and heroine were more about me than I realized. (How’s THAT for brilliant sentence structure?)
These paperback proofs are being delivered throughout Canada and the States, to bloggers and reviewers who are part of my book release next month. A dozen electronic files went out late last week to those with e-readers. This three-year journey is about to hit the road, and my box of proofs let me know in a hurry how exposed and invested I am.
What if I fail? I’ve failed before. What if I succeed? I’ve succeeded before. But if people like, or better yet, relate to archaeologist Grace Madison, her family and friends, what does that mean? It means there’s a voice in fiction for a vigorous, funny, intelligent middle-aged character with a Christian worldview. One who does the right thing, regardless of cost. One who loves her family despite their flaws. One who is unafraid to tackle her demons, fall in love again with her husband, adjust how she parents as her children mature. One unafraid to take a calculated risk when the stakes are high.
Grace Madison is Everywoman, as my beta readers and reviewers tell me. And I’m Everywoman, albeit everywoman who just opened a box of proofs to have an epiphany.
Please keep me in your prayers, and I’m glad you’re along for this journey. Camel up!