"Joan's Descent into Alzheimer's"
I should feel elated, but to tell you the truth I feel deflated. I don't quite know why, apart from the fact that I've got the female version of man flu. I think part of the problem is fear. Having invested so much time and emotion into writing this memoir, my part of the process is done and I don't feel in control of what happens from here on in.
I decided to try and find a publisher rather than self-publish. I'm not computer savvy enough to take risks with my manuscript. I had visions of it being swallowed whole and spat out in "Wingdings".
I found the publisher, one who didn't want me to pay upfront, which was great because I didn't have a "pay upfront fund". Better yet they love memoirs, which seems to be a bit of a rarity. And I was told that I would always have the final say. Sounded good.
It's been a positive experience. I've always been made to feel that I was in control, when in reality it didn't quite work like that and because they know what works and I blatantly don't, it really was never intended to work like that.
These guys knew that the complete middle section, about one third of the book, needed re-writing because the diary format didn't work. They knew that the picture that I definitely wanted for the cover wasn't going to be the right one, but spoon-fed me their rejection with psychological deftness
"We'll circulate the picture to the Beta Readers to get their feedback."
Guess what? Universally rejected. But all this was done for the good of the book, what's going to look best on Amazon and as a paperback. My ego had to be gently placed on the back seat and that's as it should be because I'm too emotionally entangled with "Joan's Descent" and find it hard to be objective and equally hard to hand over the reins.
The publisher calls me a 'dream client' so what are the nightmare ones like? Apparently I'm in charge of promotion - now that is a frightening thought.