You learn more by being wrong than by being right.

Photography by Tammy Zelez Photography

I tell my kids this all the time. I want them to try things and not be afraid— or, if they are, to do it anyway. And to sound even more cliché, growth is uncomfortable, so if they want to grow, they have to be uncomfortable. I love it when they say their brains hurt; it means they are attempting something difficult and truly growing. 

So, I am trying something new. I had no idea how to write a novel, and even fewer ideas on how to publish one. “Just write it” is a gross oversimplification. 

Writing and publishing a novel feels remarkably similar to raising a child. I grew this “thing” inside me and watched the characters develop their own personalities, telling me what they were doing—much like my teenagers do now. I watched the manuscript expand, physically growing in pages the way my 11-year-old grew inches two inches in two weeks. It blows my mind how both kids and novels can hit sudden growth spurts, while at other times, they barely seem to change at all. I’ve spent hours polishing the same few pages, practicing variations of the same prose, just as my kids practice the variations of behavior required to become better humans. My book has taken up my time with pure joy; the mental energy rivaling the time I spend thinking of my actual children. 

It is like being a parent for the first time. To count the ways I messed up with my first kid...well, I did the best I could with the knowledge I had, but in hindsight, I wasn’t great. I learned by being wrong—So, thank you, firstborn, for being my unknowing guinea pig; just know that I tried. This novel is my firstborn to page. Just as I know I was a more capable parent with my second child, I know I will be more knowledgeable in my second attempt at a book. But you cannot know what you do not know, and for that initial ignorance, I must forgive myself. 

Now, the act of sending this novel out into the world feels remarkably like watching my children leave home: it is both painful and terrifying. The world— and the literary world in particularly—, is often judgmental and the competition is fierce. I have worked tirelessly to put my best foot forward, not out of vanity, but out of pride—because I AM proud of these characters. They are “polished pretty” as the saying goes, but more importantly they have heart. 

I learned a great deal about parenting and writing by being willing to be wrong, and I’ve grown because I was wrong sometimes. But, oh, how I love them.