How the Frog was Born

I met a guy a few years ago who was not only was arty, cool, and cute as could be, he told me he'd written a novel and had an agent who was shopping it around. I was impressed, and not just with his emerald green eyes. Here was this young, cool, fun person who somehow found the motivation to sit down and write an entire a book. Being able to do that seemed like an insurmountable task to me. I gushed and prattled endlessly on about how amazing that was, and how great he was for doing it. I wasn't even trying to win his heart--the awe was genuine. For his part, he seemed a little shy about it, not wanting to talk about how epic his accomplishment was.

Three years later, I'm the one who tells people I've finished a book and am trying to get it published. And they're impressed, gushing and prattling on about my accomplishment. Then I become a little shy, saying it's nothing really. The shyness comes from two sources. The first is knowing writing the book is just the beginning. I still have to get published and people have to read it.

The second is I know the process I used. It wasn't glamorous, so I'm not sure it counts. When I started writing my book, I wasn't thinking, "I'm writing a book now." I was thinking, "I've got some time to kill before Friends comes on, maybe I'll write down that funny story about the bachelorette party." After six months of doing that, I had a book.

There's the truth. I never thought I could write a book. I just did it. It is a very cool thing and I am proud of it. And I'm even more thrilled now when I hear someone has done it because I know what it takes.

So what are you waiting for? You've got fifteen minutes before Friends starts.