Happy book birthday, Silent Hearts

“A tasty read,” says Fiona

Awhile back, I wrote here that “the pub date for Silent Hearts is still six interminable months out.”

And now, a blink of an eye later, it’s here.

Publishing is a long, long game. Two years, in this case, from the offer on the manuscript to a book on the shelves. Four years from when I embarked on what I vowed would be my last, best attempt at rewriting said manuscript. Fifteen from when I first started putting words on the page about two women, one Pakistani, one American, who ended up as Farida and Liv in the final version.

The manuscript languished untouched for some of those years. Others, I attacked it mercilessly, probably cutting the equivalent of another whole book over the years. Titles came and went, so many that one of my fiction goals is to someday see a book published with my own title – which may be even more difficult than getting a book published at all.

I’ve made this point too many times before, so I won’t belabor it here. But I’ve seen so many wonderful writers give up after just a few rejections, which means so many good books that the world will never see. That makes me sad.

But today is not a day for sadness. The joint launch party for Silent Hearts – and for Melissa Stephenson’s memoir, “Driven: A White-Knuckled Ride to Heartbreak and Back” – is tomorrow night. I hear there will be cake. If that’s not cause for celebration, I don’t know what is.