Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Thursday, July 19, 2012
A Long Year Short, and Superstition By Kelly Whitley Well, I’ve arrived. Destination straight ahead. A year ago, Lea Schizas accepted my (then) manuscript Into the Red for publication, estimated release date July 2012. Cheering all around, champagne both virtual and real, and a sense of accomplishment. Wait—July 2012? Sounded like forever, like when you’re a kid and summer is slow in coming. A whole year to take the journey from manuscript to publication—plenty of time. Riiight…. I’d been down a short version of this country lane before with various anthologies. Thought I knew what’d happen. A stop here for editing, a stop there for formatting, and a cover. Voila! The miracle of publication. Easy peasy. But a novel is a lot more complicated than a short story. It’s not a country lane. It’s a highway, and a lot of people are in the car with you. After the champagne bottle hit the trashcan, second guessing took up residence. We’d met before, and I managed not to panic as my first editor reviewed the book…Julie Lynn Hayes. I went out and inhaled her books, and waited on tenterhooks (love that word). She and I traded the manuscript back and forth until it seemed perfect. By now, time had whizzed by, and Christmas had sneaked up on me. Wow; how did that happen? On previous publications, I’d had one editor. The second editor on the novel jumped in. I spent the start of 2012 with Kim Cresswell, learning the finer points of line editing. Back and forth again, and done. Whew! Missed Valentine’s Day. There’s more. Cover art. Trying to use words to describe what I saw in my brain, and Winterheart Designs interpreting them into a cover. The crocus poked their heads up. Spring was coming on. Final formatting and Memorial Day. Hey, it’s almost summer—is it possible eleven months have passed? Countdown to launch. Long year short. My first full-length novel released on Friday. My book, on a publisher’s website, ready for purchase as of July 13th, 2012. Friday the Thirteenth, that is. I refuse to be superstitious—it’s taken a year to get here, and again there’s cheering all around, champagne both virtual and real, and a sense of accomplishment. Seems pretty lucky to me.
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