Taking a Leap
I’ve never published a real book. Or at least, that’s how I feel. I’ve published a colouring book previously and sold nearly 250 copies. But although that involved curating the images, collaborating with over 50 independent artists, and navigating Print-On-Demand self publishing, it wasn’t really my story,
Get Moving is. It was written on rainy mornings with the help and hindrance of my kids. I dragged draft copies to the park, the library, and to cafes, in the hopes that my children would miraculously entertain themselves for a few minutes.
My eldest son pretended to fall asleep when I read it to him for the first time. Pages were scribbled on by my middle son. And my baby generously shared his drool all over every page.
Get Moving was written couplet by painstaking couplet, and it has been “in progress” for over 8 months now. The book itself is finished. It’s been finished for a while. But I want it to be perfect. And every time I look at the proof copy that I’ve ordered, I see something else not quite right.
This month, I am determined to release it into the wild, in all its imperfect glory. And here is why. Hugo, my youngest son (the drooler) was just starting to try to crawl when I finished my first draft. And in the last week he has started walking.
To be brutally honest, he’s not a very good walker. He’s wobbly, and he falls over on any surface with bumps, divots, or even gentle slopes. But I’m so proud of him. And more importantly, he’s so proud of himself. He staggers towards me, so happy that he laughs aloud.
His balance is so uncertain, that his laugh is enough to knock him onto his bottom. It doesn’t bother him. It doesn’t stop him laughing. He slowly stands up again, and comes towards me again. And of course, he falls again. and again, and again. And eventually he sits there, arms out, still laughing, waiting for me to pick him up.
By any measure of a child, he is doing perfectly right. He’s not comparing himself to his older brothers, or his parents. He’s not waiting to be able to walk, before he tries to walk. That would be stupid.
But here I am still holding my long finished book. Editing, and adjusting, and wanting it to be perfection. I want it to be an instant success, a childhood classic. I want it to touch hearts.
But my heart is touched by Hugo’s stubborn, joy and his wildly imperfect walking.
So, I’m trying to be half as brave and beautiful as my son. My book is going to be out in the world in September, and even if no one at all reads it, I’m going to be proud of myself. I hope that you are too.