I will never forget the day my first book arrived in the mail. I was excited to open the box and see the book that I had spent so long, about a year, in writing even though the idea had come to me at least another year previous to actually writing it. It represented so much more than just a solid book with a little over 300 pages. It was who I was, who I have always wanted to be, who I believed for so many years was not good enough or smart enough. The person who wrote this book could write and had creative thoughts and ideas and could complete if not a tome at least a book worthy of bragging about as in "it is 300 pages." That takes quite a bit of time and effort and concentration and planning. And it isn't something everyone can do.

As my husband, Jim,  said, "You know, my grandfather started his own business and he was successful but the building is gone where his store was and no one remembers it, except the few people who were around in that neighborhood at that time. But a book....that's around forever!" Yes, he was quite proud of my first book, as was I. And although he was a tremendous help in getting this book self-published, there would be no book if I hadn't written it.

I got the scissors from the kitchen and cut the tape along the top of the cardboard box, careful not to cut too deep and mar the top of the books. I opened the box and there, four books to a layer, was my first glimpse of my first book. I picked one up; it had a solid weight to it, something that people would say, "yea, I'm getting a lot of pages for my money" when they decide to buy my book.

And then it happened. All the repressed emotion from years of not believing in myself and my abilities came pouring out. I quickly brought the book upstairs to show Jim who was on the phone with a client. He saw my tears and since he had shared my upcoming book with his client, also shared the current situation. "Oh no", he said. I said,  "My first book" as I held the precious baby in my hands. "Ok, good, tears of joy," he relayed to his client.  Tears of joy, indeed.


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