Many authors have likened the book writing process to pregnancy, labor, and delivery. Now that I’m at the end of the journey, I completely agree. There are moments of disbelief, followed by tough grunge work, and then utter bliss when you are finally holding your pride and joy. My book arrived 2 weeks ago, and it still feels like a dream.
Just in case you haven’t figured it out, “101 Ways to Torture Your Husband” is all about my dear hubby. Yes, its about “torturing” him of course, but in the end, every single page in my book was inspired by this man who’s been everything to me; friend, lover, father, therapist, co-parent, and at some point (in the hopefully very distant future) he’ll become my annoying nursing home roommate. Lord give me strength.
You really can’t ask for anything more flattering. An ENTIRE BOOK all about YOU. So what’s the first thing out of my husband’s mouth when he sees the final product? “Wait a minute..where’s my name in the dedication??”
Because of my husband’s all-consuming media job, he wasn’t around for much of my book-writing process. From time to time I’d email him a chapter or two so he could offer some criticism, but for the most part, he got to see it for the first time when the finished version arrived at our doorstep. There I was completely overjoyed and overwhelmed holding my first book ever, and my husband finds a way to make it all about HIM.
Ah men… if there is anything I love about them it’s their giving nature.
My hubby did calm down when I flipped to the acknowledgement page and he saw that I did thank him profusely and mentioned his name. He did make me promise to grant him a dedication at some future point, when I’m lucky enough to publish another tome. I guess we’ll see about that. (ha ha)
So who is my book dedicated to? Guess you’ll have to pick it up to find out. (I know, I’m such a tease). January 18th is right around the corner.. and Amazon is already shipping out orders. Torture is upon us.
Oh, I almost forgot. This blog is DEDICATED to my husband Andrew Laurence Kalb.
I love ya babe. Now stop pouting.