Getting ready for my LAST first day!

In four days I will begin what is quite likely to be the final quarter of my formal education--and I've got to admit it has me a little freaked out.

In September of 2009, I took the plunge and went back to college. Thirty five years after graduating from high school and beginning an abbreviated college career, I decided it was finally time to finish--at least that's what I ended up doing. I'm not sure it was I had planned when I started (mostly, I told people that I was planning to take a few art classes). It was just something to do after my business folded in 2008 along with everyone else's. What I didn't expect was how much I'd love being back in the classroom--or how good at it I'd turn out to be!

I learned how to do algebra--very well!  I got an A in Chemistry. (Both of which would have certainly would have been a huge surprise to several of my high school teachers!) More importantly, I reignited a love of learning I'd long been aware of but rarely had the chance to exercise (I love research and always have) and the thought of no longer being daily exposed to new ideas and information from professors and classmates feels like it will leave behind a huge hole in my life. My brain has been stretched, my horizons widened, and my newly uncovered love of writing excites me more than painting ever did (and I did that for twenty years--loving every minute of it).

But right now, I'm wondering what's next for me. For the next few months, I've got revisions to make on my novel (I added a chapter and an epilogue just this week) and my project defense. I'll be researching publishers who I hope will be willing to take a look at my book. And after that? I have no idea--and I don't do well with that! I am a list maker, a planner, and I like to stay busy (I wrote a novel in three months!).

Waiting to see what will happen is not my strong suit

I've applied for a few jobs that I think I'd both enjoy and be good at. And now I have to wait and see what comes of those applications.

(Do they offer a degree in waiting, do you know? I could totally do that...)
:)

I can hardly believe it, but it's done!

September 10, 2014 at approximately 9:30 in the morning, I finished the first draft of my book. I promptly broke out the bottle of sparkling cider I'd been saving for the occasion and my dear husband (without whom I'd never have been able to do ANY of this!) and I toasted my triumph

There is a lot of work left to be done--edits and revisions, and I even had an idea this morning for a brief epilogue--but the draft of the story is complete. It was such an amazing feeling that I immediately burst into tears (over the cider). After months of planning, pre-writing, brainstorming, traveling to Iowa, reading and rereading Emily's diary, plotting what to do with characters and wondering how I would actually transfer the ideas in my head onto the page--it's finally done.

And I am pleased!

I've sent the draft out to several people and they are currently in the midst of reading it through for me while I sit waiting to hear from them and  hoping that I haven't just spent the last few months writing unintelligible drivel.

They have two weeks and I am trying not to worry that it's terrible.

But good or bad, I'm pleased that it's finished, and I'm enjoying the fact that I finished it exactly two weeks before my self-imposed deadline. I'm also pleased that I have two weeks left before I head back to finish my last quarter of graduate school.

But at the moment, I'm remembering the words my committee chair said to me on the day he agreed to direct my thesis/project. He told me that when I was finished, I'd have a completed manuscript for my first novel, and they'd give me a Master's degree for writing it. But it was his last words that are ringing in my ears right now: "What could be better than that?"

What, indeed?

Oh my gosh, I'm actually writing a book!

Ok, so the title is a bit misleading. I've been talking about this for so long that my family actually cringes when I say anything along the lines of "I just had this great idea for my book..." None of them are willing to even ask how its going anymore (they know I'll tell them, anyway). And I've certainly known what I'm up to for months, so no real surprises.

Today, for the very first time, I printed out my manuscript "to date," just because--at 194 pages--it's getting too unwieldy to scroll back through countless pages trying to remember if I've already said something or not. I've got several levels of storytelling going on (at the moment I am writing a book in which my protagonist is writing a book in which she is telling a story about herself and her 19th century diarist counterpart, who is telling another story to her-- so one writer writing about another writer who is writing a story in which she and one of the characters of that story are telling stories to each other) and its getting hard to keep track of who said what when. (See why I needed a printed copy? I'm getting a bit dizzy here!)

Anyway, (short story long here--sorry) just a few minutes ago, for the very first time, I held my book in my hands.

Whatever ultimately happens to it, that is a moment I will never forget.