I’ve been immersed in formatting the paperback version of Childless by Marriage lately. They ought to have Lamaze classes for book author-publishers. Writing a book is nothing compared to the pain of trying to get all the words in the right places on the pages. Headers, page numbers, spaces, words that want to sit at the top of the page all by themselves–It’s maddening. You think you’ve got everything fixed, but the next time you look, there’s a heading at the top of the title page, or the page numbers don’t match the table of contents. I woke up this morning with the realization that I need to insert some blank pages that are going to throw everything off.
I’m literally tearing my hair out. I need to breathe. Hee hee hee. Hoo hoo hoo. I need soothing music. And ice chips (with gin). And I need somebody to hold my hand. But it’s almost done. The print book will have a prettier cover than the one on the e-book, and I’ll love this book even more than my five previous books. I know from experience that I will forget how difficult it was to get this book born, just as people say mothers forget the pains of childbirth.
At least with a book, I gain less weight, and I get to keep my clothes on. But it does keep me awake at night.
Thanks for hanging in here with me. And thank you for the great comments on “grandparent envy.” I was writing about feeling sad because I’m not a grandparent, but some of you reminded me that our own parents may also be feeling unhappy because we didn’t give them grandchildren. Thank God my mom and dad were totally supportive. I sympathize with childless people whose parents add to their burdens by bugging them about it. Anybody got any good comebacks for when the folks start ragging on them for not having kids?