In his book, “On Writing,” Stephen King said, “I believe the first draft of a book — even a long one — should take no more than 3 months.” Given that it took me 2 years to complete mine, does it come as a surprise that it took me 12 years to complete the editing process? 12 years is a long time … or is it?
When I started writing “I Knew Men” I was 47 years old. Our youngest child was 13, and her two older brothers and sister had more or less left our roost. My life was starting to make the shift into “empty nest.”
I also had left a long-term job with one of the major arts organizations in our town. The decision to move on was a painful one, and although the new jobs I accepted were terrific and part-time — providing the freedom and flexibility I craved — I felt like a big part of my identity was missing. It was time to reinvent myself.
REINVENTING WITH A LOT OF HELP
It was not a conscious decision, reinventing myself. I knew the time was right to move on with my life, but I had no clue where God was going to lead me next. Wherever it was, I knew I was in for my next amazing ride, by his grace.
Writing “I Knew Men” was my solace, my comfort zone, my brain’s escape during that time when everything felt very up in the air. The story took on a life of its own, and at times I was surprised by the direction in which the story would suddenly turn. Was God helping me? I believed he had a hand in it, because why else would the idea of writing this novel have been kicking around in my head for so long? That belief often kept me going when doubts surfaced. After all, who did I think I was, to be writing a novel?
BACK SEAT WRITER
After a new rough edit of both novels, it was time to concentrate solely on “I Knew Men.” Not so fast. I took on a brave new enterprise, working independently as a consultant with my own business. My daughters were having babies, making “Grammie Sue” my favorite new identity. Life was becoming super busy again, and super fun. Sometimes I would work on my story for a week and set it down, not to pick it up again for months. My novel took a back seat to new demands, but it never completely left my thoughts.
While serving as a Rotarian, pre-Covid, every February was Poetry Month. Each week Rotarians volunteered to read something original or a favorite poem, making Poetry Month a highlight of the Rotary calendar. I loved to participate because it gave me an opportunity to write something new. How I loved to let my freak flag fly! One year I rapped about the extremely cold winter. Another year I wrote a poem using words that only started with musical notes — A to G. I played it on the piano before reading it at the podium.
And then there was the year I became brave and read lyrics to a couple of the songs I wrote, as poems, from “I Knew Men.”
It was the very first time I shared my dream of becoming a published author outside of my closest circle. The response was warm and enthusiastic, emboldening me to get back to work. It took an additional three years before I started looking for a publisher.
According to my clock, that’s about right.