Writing My First Novel

From the day I penned my first chapter to the day I was to write the second, eight years elapsed. During those eight years, I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia, twice (I didn't want to believe the first rhumatologist). I gave birth to my two children, had post-partum depression, moved twice, bought a home and survived the suicidal death of a friend.

Life happened. And it unblocked my writer's block, unleashing a need in me to write like never before. I once read that to have great content for a novel, you need to experience life. I suddenly felt "qualified".

I sat down one day determined to, at least, finish one of the stories I had begun. The characters and general plot had been stuck in my head for years, coming out in the wee hours of the morning, when my baby woke up for a feeding--anxieties causing insomnia stronger than my exhaustion. The scenarios were played out over and over in my mind, and the ending changed several times, as I finally drifted off to sleep again.

How was I to take my characters, those scenes I had perfected in the far recesses of my mind, and put them on paper? I just decided to write. I had done enough thinking, it seemed. So I wrote and wrote. Before I knew it, the characters came alive and my plot developed from the skimpy one I had construed eight years before.

Initially, I had no intention of publishing my manuscript, writing only for the sheer joy of having accomplished what I had set out to do and dreamed of, since my teen years.

My youngest sister, who had encouraged me to write again, was eager to read my now growing pages. I e-mailed her the first three chapters, wondering if she would like the story. She not only loved it (what are sisters for...) but she begged me to send her more. This response struck a cord in me. (Actually, it was great for my diminished ego.) You see, I had lost my self-confidence when I had stopped writing. I had been in a desert, wandering in search of an oasis. I had suffered the loss of vitality, strength, sleep, concentration, experiencing a brain fog so thick I could not utter a sentence properly on some days.

Was I truly writing a good book? Uncertain I should believe all of my sister's words of praise, I tested whether it could be so. I e-mailed my first three chapters to two other friends who were avid readers and book lovers. To my amazement and delight, the response was similar to that of my sister, who was becoming adamant I should seriously think about publishing the book.

Thus, began my journey into the world of publishing and marketing. I researched, read books, spoke to people in the industry and lost sleep thinking my book could actually get published. Finally, I decided to take the route of supported self-publishing, meaning I also worked with a professional editor and book cover artist from the publishing company. The feedback from my editor was enlightening. I learned the strengths and weaknesses of my writing--valuable lessons, indeed. It made me eager to learn more, to work at my craft.

To date, it has been an exciting, but sometimes scary journey. I have gained insight about myself, my inner yearnings and the people around me. It has made me ready for other things, other adventures that a few years ago I would have thought impossible to achieve.

By Laura Fabiani