I received some much welcome news this week. My coming-of-age novel, Let Me Explain, has been picked up for publication. It will be released this winter by Little Acorn Publishing, an outfit in the U.K. I began writing this book about 20 years ago. It appeared in various forms, most recently as a self-published title. I happened to see Little Acorn's call for submissions on Twitter in the spring and asked them if they'd consider something previously self-published. They said they'd take a look, so I sent them a summary and the first three chapters. Honestly, I thought that would be as far as it would go. I've become accustomed to rejection over the years. As it turns out, this time was different. After about three months, they told me to send the complete manuscript. A few weeks after that they let me know they were still interested and would be having one more round of readers take a look at it. I received an email two days ago informing me that they'll be publishing the book! If I were younger, I probably would have gone on a serious drinking binge. I didn't, but I have been smiling more than I usually do for the last 48 hours.
Some time ago I resolved to write because I want to, and at times am strangely compelled to, write. Writing, for me, is its own reward. Having said that, it is certainly the case that the positive interest of complete strangers in what I've produced is another type of psychological reward, one that affirms years of effort, and lessens the toll of years of angst. Writing, in my life, has been about dancing with patience while managing exile.