ALL A-QUIVER: WALKING THE STRAIGHT ’N ARROW

Word of the week: defenestrate \(ˌ)dē-ˈfe-nə-ˌstrāt\ - transitive verb - (hear it!); defenestration \(ˌ)dē-ˌfe-nə-ˈstrā-shən\ – noun - 1 : a throwing of a person or thing out of a window; 2 : a usually swift dismissal or expulsion (as from a political party or office) – (Merriam-Webster Dictionary)

I'm Done!

Well, I did it. It's done. Finished. Wrapped up. Complete.

And hell, if it ain't right by now, it ain't never gonna be!

After one hefty haul-of-a-decade of twelve (off and on) structural self-edit-throughs, and two long drawn out years (down to the very month I'd received my last “Thanks, but no thanks” rejection letter) of meticulously crafting fresh meat onto the old bones of a story long-coming (two and a half hours every morning, seven days a week), I'm finally done with my full length dark fantasy novel: The Perfect Player – Book One of the Caendorian World stories.

[Insert triumphant music here.]

And holy shit, what a feeling! Seriously, it's, well . . . a bit weird.

Now, you would think I'd feel elated, excited, overjoyed, ecstatic, giddy, over-the-moon, or whatever other wild and wonderful sensations could course hot through my veins. But you know what? I'll be damned if I feel any of that.

Nope. You know what I feel?

Pride.

Pride in a job finally complete; pride in my perseverance, when many times I just wanted to defenestrate every chapter and every character and give up on the project entirely after constantly questioning and re-questioning my writing and storytelling abilities; pride in starting myself down a path to what hopefully will become a somewhat steady career (sales and new novels pending, of course) . . .

Yes. Pride.

But I also know this: I never could have finished it without those terrific people who helped me along the way—the beta readers and sounding boards, the editors and proofreaders, the online writing community I've been a part of for nigh on six years. All the advice and the feedback, the support and the “kicks in the rear” and well as the “pats on the head” have made all the difference in the world, and for those who were there for me:

Thank you!

I'm done.

Ha! Imagine my hubby's concern and confusion when I had texted him those two exact words just over a fortnight ago, the moment I had lain down the last sentence of my three-section, fifty chapter novel.

“I'm done.”

His response?

“Great!”

And you know what? . . . I have to agree.