Thursday, December 01, 2005
And the sleep book is finished! I can't tell you what a relief that is. This book was the toughest book I have ever written (talk about a complex and controversial subject), and I felt that I had to "do it right" -- even if that meant being (gulp) four months overdue with this book.
I have had some amazing support from friends (both online and offline), fellow writers, and family members who, I am sure, thought I had either lost my ability to write, my mind, or both. (And at times I was starting to wonder myself.) And my publisher has broken all the rules of the publishing game by extending the deadline for the sleep book and Mealtime Solutions for Your Baby, Toddler, and Preschooler, which is also due out in the spring.
Sometimes writing a book is hell. And writing this book was hell. But the final product was worth it. (Why do I feel like I'm describing the process of giving birth?) Anyway, I think it is one of the best books I have ever written. I am really proud of it, and I hope that the parents who served on the book panel, the experts who have painstakingly reviewed every word (and almost died of exhaustion as a result!), and everyone I stalked mercilessly for sleep stats, facts, etc., will also agree that it was worth it.
I start "author review" on the book in the morning (after I've had a few hours of sleep). That's the "speak now or forever hold your peace" stage of going over your book, after it's been copy-edited, but before it goes into production. So tomorrow will be a day of re-reading the book, obsessing about all the things that I wish I could add, reminding myself that my editor will axe-murder me if I even try to go there, given that I am about ten billion words over the word count by now -- I stopped counting because it was getting embarrassing). In the end, I will have to simply know that I did the best possible job I could, and that the rest is out of my hands -- a feeling not unlike the experience of being the parent of teenagers who march increasingly closer towards independence -- a stage that will represent The Mother of All Transitions for them and for me.
But before I make myself CRY at the end of what started out as a happy post, I suppose I should get to the prizes. Remember the prizes? The reason that Dani and Marla have been stalking this blog every hour on the hour for 168 hours or so? Yep, it's time to take your chance at winning one of those prizes. And I've given the insomniacs and sleep-deprived parents (and the West Coasters) an unfair advantage, given the timing of this post. Well who, other than my Dad, ever said that life was supposed to be fair? (And even Dad recanted when I pressed him on the issue.)
If you want to be counted as a winner, you must
1. Be one of the first five people to post here and (the next element is a compulsory, skill-testing element)
2. E-mail me using the following subject line in order to beat the dreaded Ann Douglas SPAM filter: blog content winner. (Yep, that is sophisticated, but, c'mon, I've been averaging less than five hours sleep per night since before CANADIAN Thanksgiving.) If you don't follow the instructions to a tee, your reply will be lost forever in Ann SPAM (I get 700+ email messages per day, about 75% of which are about body parts I don't have), and I won't be able to give you a prize.
In case you're wondering what the book is going to look like, I was able to get my hot little hands on a .jpeg of the cover the other day, and I've been holding off on posting it until now. (You have to know this was killing me.)
| posted by Ann D @ 12:02 AM