We are almost there! The book cover is a wrap! (ha ha ha) The preliminary interior proof has been approved as well. The only thing left to approve is a bonafide hard copy proof I will be able to hold in my hands.
The idea of holding a final copy is overwhelming. The culmination of years of hard work manifested into a 3D rectangle I can flip through and feel the wind of the pages on my face. Something that will take a place of honor on my bookshelf; something my kids can take to bed with them for some late night reading; something that has been known only to myself and a few others, that I can now share with the world.
Why did I start writing Theo’s Mythic in the first place? There are many reasons, but two stand out. The first is for my father. He was one of the most brilliant artists I have ever known – so creative; yet he opted to support his family with a solid job as an accountant. God bless him for that. When he died in 2007, all I could think of was that he never followed his dreams. I was with him when he passed, holding his frail hand, crying in agony for not just what I was losing, but also for what my children, his grandchildren, were losing. Theodore was gone, but I vowed for him to never be forgotten.
The second reason is because, as a mom to three children, I wanted to write something for children that challenged them intellectually through sentence structure, vocabulary choices and a non-linear structure. My father never dumbed down the language he used with me and my sister. Rather, if we didn’t know a word, he kept a dictionary on the kitchen counter and would simply say, “Look it up.” And we did. I love him for that phrase. So I wanted to write something that would inspire kids to “look up” a word or two and be excited by a story that weaved its way around, like their complex imaginations, to an end.
My two reasons have a common thread – my dad. So my book dedication reads as follows:
To my Dad, Theodore, who taught me the meaning of countless words.
The most important of which was, love.
We’re almost there, dad.