It's being published by Simon & Schuster. I'm thrilled, as you can imagine. Let's start with the fact that I'm enchanted with my editor, Megan McKeever. The excitement she and her team have for this project is an author's dream.
And just think: this time next year, it will be on a bookstore shelf near you.
What's the story? It is a chronicle of the bitter divorce of a "perfect
couple," and its impact on the gated community in which they live, is
seen through the eyes of a neighbor–Lyssa, a stay-at-home mom–who
doesn't realize the parallels between their marriage and her own. In
the process, she befriends the husband, Harry, a former Master of the
Universe turned stay-at-home dad–even as the neighborhood's mean mommies
vying to make him the next notch on their bedposts turn on her.
Just another fun day in suburbia, right?
You know, writing a book is a lot like birthing a baby. The moment you
realize it's actually going to happen, you fall into a euphoric trance.
Sheer bliss.
And nothing can take that away from you...
Except the worry that perhaps something bad will befall it while it's incubating. For an author, that can be anything from the "I'm not worthy!" to "Will it find an audience?" to "What do I have to say that is compelling enough to hold someone's attention for 300+ pages?"
When this happens, those deep breathing exercises we learn in Lamaze classes certainly come in handy.
Well, I'm happy to report that I'm feeling no qualms whatsoever. (Liar, Liar, pants on fire..)
No, seriously, I mean that. I've been through the birthing experience, four times: two that were the human kind (Austin and Anna), and another two that were the novel kind (and Impossibly Tongue-Tied and True Hollywood Lies).
During that first trimester, reality sets in. There is so much preparation before the blessed event: outlining a compelling plot; creating characters that are real–to you, and hopefully future readers; making sure the dialogue coming out of their mouths is something someone would actually say–and that others would respond to.
Is it any wonder you feel nauseous?
By the middle trimester, you're in your groove: pages are flowing, you're heavy with chapter, edits are coming back, but nothing that you feel throws the plot baby out with the bath water. (Some analogy, huh?) In fact, you fall into a complacent routine where everything seems hunky-dory...
But by it's delivery date – in The DILF's case, June 2010 – you are more than ready to share you bundle of joy with the rest of the world.
Will this book be The Second Coming? I would never presume as much. (Besides, in the book universe, Harry Potter has already claimed that title.) Wise parents know that the most they can hope for their offspring is a long and fruitful life.
And of course, you envision a success future. (Those of us who had reserved our children's places in their preschools even before they were born know what I mean).
So that my new baby lives a long and healthy life, I'm going to go on the theory that it takes a village to birth a book. I'll include you on how it's going: all the birthing pains, all those little kicks of joy, all the hopes and schemes and dreams I have for it, to make it a book you'll want to read.
Along the way, I'll ask your opinion, let you in on some secrets (plot-wise, and about the writer's process), and invite you to the celebration of this blessed birth. And great news! When time comes for my new baby's shower, the gifts will be for you...
So stay tuned!
—Josie
www.josiebrown.com
