I am not an author. I sure wish I was. I wish I could put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard and out would come the most beautiful, poetic and meaningful prose. I wish I could create characters that come to life in stories that are both fantastic and a mirror of reality.
Alas, I cannot.
So instead, I surround myself by talented people who breathe life into a child violin prodigy. A teenage ancient Celtic priestess. A Depression era private eye. I could choose any one of our books and wish I could have put my name on them.
You see, I’m kind of an egomaniac. I like seeing my name in lights. Taking credit for accomplishments. Being recognized.
So, I’ve created this strange situation for myself. I’ve got this great job where I’m surrounded by books that I’ve helped create, but none bear my name. My extroverted ego cries out; wishing that someone would say, “Wow, great job on that last book, it’s phenomenal.” But my Type A personality is relegated to staying behind the scenes: creating covers, proofreading, editing, doing taxes, etc.
But it really is a great job. I am NOT complaining in the least. And throughout my busy days and late nights, I stay out of the limelight, plodding along, bringing the book from manuscript to final product. And then, right before the book is about to be typeset and sent off to the printer, I get it. The email with the last page in a book that gets written: the acknowledgments. That last page which calls out all the people who helped the writer on their journey through that novel.
I open the email from the author which contains that last little page I need to insert. I’m rushing and busy and worried I’ll make my deadline and then I read it: this little line that always – always – catches me off guard. This line that tells me how much I meant to the creation of the book or their career as a writer. That line that says the most wonderful things about how important I am. And it touches me deeply every time.
So this is a little acknowledgement of my own. Since I can’t write my own book, I’m writing my acknowledgments here:
To Chelsea, Sara, Annie, D. Edward, Abbie, Lisette, Scott, Beverly, Jerrod, Suzi, Colleen, Ellen, Jon, Darlene, Jay, Gary, Don, NM, Dean, Matt, Geoff, LM, William, Paul, John, Anita, Dan, Gautam, Iain, LA, Molly and Sabrina. Without you, I would not have the perfect job. Thank you for the journey you’ve brought me on and for your kind words that seem to come just when I’m feeling unsure and insecure. Your words means more than you know.