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.