The hardest thing about writing a novel isn’t the writing. It isn’t even the editing. It’s certainly not finding a suitable cover (that’s fun!) The hardest part—undoubtedly—is letting it go and sending it out for the public to read.

And that is just where I’m poised right now. I’ve been flying with and around this book for years now. It started as a long short story and grew and grew until I had a full-fledged novel.

Once the story was written I began the long and essential process of self-editing. I say it’s essential because without this step an author has merely words on paper and may or may not have a well-composed, well-organized, well-written, and readable novel. For me that flight simply takes time. I have to think and mull and consider and change. I have to straighten out sequences of events. I have to check and double-check word usages. I have to make sure nothing is extraneous or out of place. I have to make sure the pace is good and smooth—and that there is no unnecessary turbulence for the reader.

That process requires taking the advice of editors and beta readers. These people will see pitfalls, mistakes, irregularities and illogicalities that I as the author who is intimately familiar with the text can simply miss. All this takes time. It’s a long flight.

Once all this is done, once the cover is ready, once the final corrections are made, once the practicalities like ISBNs are complete, once the manuscript is uploaded, it’s time to hit the “publish” button.

And it’s hard.

It’s scary.

It’s intimidating.

But it has to be done. And having done it twice before, I have lowered the landing gear and readied myself for landing. I have found the runway and throttled back my engines. My tray table is up, my seat belt is fastened for the landing.

So here I sit, on the last leg of a very long flight.

My new novel Dunkard’s Hollow should land on Amazon in a few days, and just like I always feel at the end of an airline flight, my heart is in my throat, and I am hoping, hoping, hoping for a smooth landing.