From memories to paper and spine; next steps with my memoir

If you are reading these words,  you know or have the potential of knowing that I have been working on a memoir.   In December I sent another final draft to my editor, my wonderful, helpful, encouraging, supportive editor.

Then I took a deep breath, and another deep breath and you are right, another deep breath, and thought about who I wanted to read this piece of my soul.

Then I thought of who I did not want to read or critique or comment on my soul.  Then I took a breath and decided to have a great celebration of the holidays, and I did.  I visited many of my aunts, and did not think, too much,  about what they would think if they read my soul.

Yesterday I met with my editor, you know the one, the supportive, encouraging, wonderful editor.  The one who believes in my work,  who thinks it is important work, who wants this work to get out in the world.

If you are reading these words you have the potential to have been at a reading of some of my memoir stories,  you may have read a draft or supported me in my beginning, my middle or ... you might have been vocal in your support all the way along.  You might be one of the people who has asked how is it going?  You might have told me to keep writing.  You might have joined my editor in believing in the importance of my work.  Perhaps you have read my blogs,  commented or not, perhaps this is the first time you are reading anything I have written.

No matter what your role has been  I am asking again for your help, for your support in finding the publisher to get this piece of work to the audience that would most benefit from it.

Here are a couple exerts from my most recent final draft

Saved by Love: An Incomplete Memoir

. ..  I was in the woods.  It was filled with life.   The old hollow tree, a home I did not mind sharing during my childhood, was a sacred haven. Buttercups, trilliums and jack in the pulpits, some of whom I was certain were janes, were my companions as I explored.  Sometimes I was lucky and saw the owl, which on other days I only heard or imagined... " pg. 56

"Melanie calls me from her home at the Leaven Center.
I ask,  `Where is God?’  I say I do not believe anymore.
I say it hurts too much to believe.
She is quiet. She is calm. 
 
All those casseroles left in your freezer,   the rides to the hospital,  all the flowers, the cottages that you go to vacation at, the lunches, the offers to sit with Bonnie, to stay with me or my girls or take them to movies or skiing or…
 
"God" she says "is in all of those."   pg. 79

With much gratitude to each of you, who have read this post so far, I now bring my request.   If you know a publisher, or know someone who knows a publisher that you think would be interested in this work.   Please let me know.     

As I  learn about the world of publishing,   I am realizing it just as in the rest of life it is all about community and connection.   I look forward to your advice and assistance.  

gkn January 2019