When I look at a completed book, beautiful and inviting with its shiny cover, whether it’s mine or someone else’s, I think how effortless it looks, like someone just wrinkled her nose and presto! There was the finished product. The only people who know better are the author, publisher, and editor.
Take, for example, the edit of my upcoming Darcy and Flora cozy, Grave Heritage. (By the way, click on the preceding link and take a look.) To me, the cover is inviting and, since painful rooting out of the misuse or disuse of that miserable Oxford comma, some pointers about making things clearer, and lots of scrutiny, it is on the way to being presentable and looking effortless (but believe me, it wasn’t).
I’m reminded of ducks swimming on the lake at my brother’s homestead in Minnesota. They fairly glide across the water, smooth and easy.
But, beneath the surface of the water, those little duck feet are paddling furiously. If the feet didn’t churn, the duck wouldn’t move. An observer doesn’t usually see what’s keeping the duck skimming along, but the duck knows.
I’ve noticed lots of things are this way. The accomplished pianist is accomplished only because of hours of painstaking practice that nobody sees but her. The computer expert seems to instinctively know how to navigate the internet and fix those technical difficulties. Truth is, he had to study and learn and make mistakes before becoming proficient.
A beautifully decorated house, a happy family, a delightful party all look so easy but, as we know, they all take a great deal of time, thought, and work.
I guess what I’m trying to do is give myself a pep talk. Nothing is ever easy, I tell myself. Best sellers are not born overnight. I should just keep on keeping on. So should you. Discouragement doesn’t get us across the lake but hard work does. I’ll just keep on paddling.
Speak Your Mind