So, after about 3 and a half years or so of writing and not writing and then writing again, and then the last 6 months or so of REALLY doing a TON of writing and not being able to look at computer screens anymore because my eyes hurt so bad - I am finally finished writing my book. It is FINISHED!!!!
I handed it over to my editor 2 days ago, and now he will edit and make suggestions on things like grammar, structure, spelling, and a little bit of content. And then it will be ready for uploading and publishing and that whole process by early June, so that it will be 100% OUT and available for purchase and shipping etc., in time for July 13th. That weekend is Camp Widow in San Diego. My great hope is that I will be there as a presenter, this time with my book on sale at the Camp Widow bookstore, for the first time. More importantly, July 13th will be the 7 year anniversary of Don's death, so it's really important to me to be able to honor and recognize that day, with this book finally being out there for the public. I hope like hell that it helps people; brings them comfort, hope, or a few moments of knowing someone else understands.
The second I typed in the last few words of the book, I burst out into tears. Relief. Terror. Grief pain. The thought of how beautiful the last words were, and how Don helped me come up with them, after coming to me in a dream visit. It's emotional, to say the least.
Then I went into panic mode. Even though I have backed up the book on files, and even printed out every page and put into a binder - JUST IN CASE - I have been flipping out at the thought of my book, my heart, my soul on paper - disappearing. I keep having nightmares that my book just disappears into thin air and I can't find any copies ever again, anywhere. I put my binder on a shelf by the bedroom window, and I dreamt that some random man opened my window in the middle of the night and stole my book. He left me a lollipop in place of the book, which was weird, but that was the dream. I ate the lollipop.
I don't know if these are the results of being a sudden death widow, if I'm just really stressed out and nervous about this book, or if maybe I’m just a raving widow lunatic. Either way, it sucks, and I don’t like this anxiety, when I should be feeling proud and accomplished.
I hope it goes away soon. The anxiety. Not my book.
I need an Advil.