When I was in labor, I distinctly remember Dearest Hubby berating me for my shallow breaths. “Breathe with me! No, with me,” he commanded. I ignored him, panted, and (after a small amount of primal screaming) popped out our son. We later discovered DH has a freakishly slow respiration rate. Like 4-6 breaths per minute. You and I (that is, normal people) would be in a coma at that rate of respiration. But I digress…

My point is, I wasn’t hyperventilating, the baby was born just fine and despite DH’s lapse in judgment for telling me I was doing the whole birthing thing wrong, he, too, is alive and well. But even as we had differing views on the right way to bring our son into the world, so there are many ways for a book to be “born.”

You see, I’ve come to realize that publishing a novel is a lot like birthing a baby. Oh sure, we can all hope for that hypno-birth of tranquility, but chances are good, if you’re an author, your book will come into this world accompanied by a long, primal sound only whales and aliens should make. And perhaps a healthy dose of medicinal chocolate. And boxed wine. (The book not the baby.)

Like childbirth, publishing is a messy, confusing business. Don’t listen to anyone who says they barely noticed it happening. They’re lying.

Regardless of how our book babies come into being, though, we’re soon launched into the unknown with our diaper bag/press kits alternately elated (Isn’t it amazing?) and paralyzed with the knowledge that we now have ULTIMATE RESPONSIBILITY. Which is scary in all caps like that.

The wonderful thing is we’re not alone. (In a good way, not a creepy way.) There are whole groups of people just like us to share the ups and downs and ooh and ahh over our shiny new book covers and website designs. Yes, you can still go into the woods, bite on a stick and peck out your book on your own… or, you can join a writers group, sit in on a critique session, enroll in online workshops and otherwise engage in the community that is the wonderful world of writers. And, I’m here to tell you, it makes all the difference.

Thankfully, I’ve done all those things, and I now have many friends/writers/angels in my life. Without them Luck of the Draw wouldn’t exist. These lovely people have supported me, encouraged me, told me when my baby was misbehaving and helped me realize that despite the struggles and worry… it will all work out. And they promise me it’s all worth it when your baby makes someone smile for the first time…

As for the sleepless nights? I think I’m on my own.

So, what got you through YOUR toughest life experiences?

Feeling lucky? I’m doing a ‘lucky 7’ giveaway of signed, Advance Reader copies of LUCK OF THE DRAW to 7 lucky winners via Goodreads between now and August 1st. Follow the link to enter! It’s easy, it’s ZERO calories and, did I mention, it’s FREE? 🙂

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Luck of the Draw

by Cheri Allan

Giveaway ends August 01, 2014.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter to win

You know those people who seem to shoot out of the womb knowing exactly where they’re headed and what they’re doing in life? Yeah. I’m not one of them. I’m a wanderer. I came into the world, blinked uncertainly and said, “Hmm. No thanks. I don’t need directions. I’ll just go this way for a bit and see if anything looks interesting…”

In the golden years of pre-school, I remember belting out “Singing in the Rain” from the side porch of the house, envisioning myself a world-renowned singer…until my imperfect pitch and fear of public performances killed that particular dream. But, no matter. By the end of third grade, I knew I wanted to become a vegetarian, because I wanted to work with animals for a living. By the time I’d figured out the difference between vegetarians and veterinarians, I’d also come to the conclusion that liking my pets and wanting to touch animal INSIDES were two very different things. Plus I liked bacon. A lot.

By the end of high school, I had matured. I knew that whatever my ultimate life path, I should probably earn a living, so I decided my college major should be business, because it involved money. This seemed a good place to start when planning for one’s future. I took accounting. And finance. And micro economics.

Along the way, I realized I enjoyed my English classes as much (okay, more) than my business classes, and shouldn’t I enjoy myself along the way? So I diversified. I added a second major.

By the time I’d graduated from college and begun my “real life,” I’d worked as a waitress, a data entry clerk, a warehouse employee, a fundraising consultant and a real estate appraiser. Notice the theme here? Me either. Clearly, I had education up the wazoo and no direction in life.

So I began to write a novel.

Before long, I was married, bought a house, and life gifted me another job (in government contracts and project planning for an engineering firm) and then, later, a position in marketing at a boutique investment firm. I had a baby.

The novel was very, very bad.

Years went by. And while life was–lovely–I was still wandering, searching for that thing, that purpose that would make me feel whole and happy. So, with baby #2 on the way, I asked the unthinkable: Would it be possible for me to stay home and become a (dare I say it?) romance novelist? Dearest Hubby, fearing the wrath of pregnancy hormones, said, “yes.”

I finished the novel. By this time, I’d learned to revise (mostly because those first chapters were sheer and utter crap and had to be obliterated.) But, I kept the basic premise and the names of the main characters, and before long I was joining my local writers group and submitting to an editor and… miracle of miracles… rejected. Turns out this happens a lot to novelists. But, I was nothing if not persistent. I wrote another novel. And another. And another…

It was not easy pursuing this new path in life. My business background told me the reality is that few novelists ever make enough to quit their day job. The English major in me wondered when I was going to write something “important.” But there was that little singer, vegetarian, pet-lover inside who knew that this was my purpose.

And, yes, It’s true that announcing one is a romance novelist is somewhat akin to announcing you are a stand-up comic. The pay is poor. The chances of making it ‘big’ are even worse. The jokes are built in. Maybe I haven’t plotted a straight course in life, but I’ve collected lots of story ideas along the way. And at the end of the day, I’m happy. We romance novelists leave the world a brighter place: a place where a smile, some laughter and a happily-ever-after are the reward for enduring the struggles, frustrations and heartache in life. And if that isn’t worth taking the long road, I don’t know what is. 🙂

So, do tell: are you a laser-guided, purpose-filled missile or a life wanderer? Share your story!

I clearly remember when the (now) 11 year-old would dress up in her fanciest princess dress, crystal jelly shoes, tiara and fairy wings and leap into the living room with a triumphant, “Ta-da!” She learned this theatrical entrance, of course, from her elder brother, who used to leap around, handily dispatching invisible storm troopers with his awe-inspiring light sabering maneuvers (while simultaneously terrifying his mother that he was going to break a window.)

Fast forward a few years, and our “ta-da” moments are fewer and farther between, which I think is too bad, because the whole deal with “ta-das” is that they are moments where you’re not afraid to have all eyes upon you as you leap onto the stage of your choosing and announce something wonderful. Shouldn’t we have more celebratory announcements?

Ta-da! You might say, I got out of bed this morning!

Or…

Ta-da! I made dinner for my whole family–again!

These may seem like small achievements, but if you don’t celebrate them, who will?

And so, TA-DA! Here’s the cover to my August release, Luck of the Draw!

I’m so excited to finally show it off! Isn’t it pretty? Doesn’t it look refreshing and cheerful? Don’t you just want to dive in?(Plus, I made dinner for my whole family–again! Woot!)

As adults, we tend to shy away from singing ta-da as often as we used to, and that’s a shame, because I firmly believe we all need our moments in the spotlight to shine. So don’t be shy. Share a ta-da! moment of your own below! Tell us about something you’re proud of accomplishing or just want to show off. There’s no need to feel silly. After all, you’re talking to a grown woman wearing a light-up butterfly tiara and waving a virtual book cover.  🙂