18 Weeks

mood: unbelieving

pandora/ipod: "impossible dream" from the man of la mancha

18 Weeks.

Four and a half months.

126 days.

A lot can happen in 18 weeks.

On May 13, 2011 - that was Friday the 13th, just FYI - my amazing, supportive, extremely trusting publisher Balzer + Bray bought another book from me. It was sold on proposal, a first for this author, which meant that the novel hadn't been written yet.

One caveat - they wanted the novel for Fall 2012. Which meant they needed the book in copyedits by the first week of October. Which meant I needed to turn in a first draft by August 1st.

"Insanity."

"You're supposed to do what?"

"You're going to need more booze."

Those were just some of the reactions from friends when I told them I was going to write a novel in 10 weeks. Well, write and revise, which meant I really had about 8 weeks to write the damn thing if I wanted to get any feedback at all before I sent it to my editor.

Ha. Hahahahaha.

There were many moments where I was convinced I couldn't do it. Um, like everyday. There were tears. There was panic. There were even a few days where I contemplated giving up entirely.

But I didn't.

Of course, I didn't do it alone. For every quick revision turnaround I had to hit, my editor was on the same tight schedule. She gave up nights and weekends, even vacation time to get me notes when I needed them. She was as much under the gun as I was, and she rocked it.

My agent lived up to her nickname: Rockstar. She was equal parts cheerleader and advisor, and every time I thought I couldn't do it, she was ready with a pep talk or a pat on the head. I'd be curled up in the fetal position muttering to myself without her.

And let's not forget my readers. HOLY SHIZNIT, BATMAN! Not only did they line up to read this trainwreck of a first draft, not only did they get me amazing notes that literally salvaged this manuscript, but they did it all - to a man and woman - in a week. Yes, a week. I didn't have any more time than that. I was blown away by the commitment and support they gave me. They saved my ass. They'll all get props in the Acknowledgments, but for now, I owe my sanity to:

Laurel Jones
Amy Bai
Christine Fonseca
Roy Firestone
Mark Uhlemann
Rachel Hunter
Carrie Harris
Lisa and Laura Roecker
Jennifer Bosworth
Jennifer Donahue

and Scott Tracey who insisted I write the thing in the first place.

There were the friends who offered a shoulder to whine on and a happy hour to drink at, and of course my dear, darling mother who came down and stayed with me for extended periods merely to make meals and walk the dog while I tried to juggle an insane writing schedule and a full time job.

See? Writing is a village. I could not have written TEN without all of this help.

TEN is off to copyedits as of today. Looking back on the last 18 weeks, I can't believe I actually did it. More over, I think TEN is kind of awesome - a scary, tense serial killer novel incorporating my love of suspense and surprise with a decent mystery twist. Cover art, ARCs and of course the final product will all be trickling out in the next year but for now, all I care about is this...

I did it.