A-Z Challenge: O is for Opportunity to give thanks

What a week! Moonlit officially launched into the world yesterday, and the celebration exceeded every expectation I had. I'll probably blab all about it on facebook and on other posts, but this one is specifically to say thank you:

To my family, for absolutely everything.
To my amazing group of friends who rallied behind me before and during the publishing process.
To my publisher and all of its talented staff, for making a dream come true in brilliant fashion.
To everyone who braved Atlanta traffic on a weeknight to come support Moonlit and me.
To the fantastic online network of writers that have offered me support and advice at every turn. Even though I have never had the honor of meeting you face to face, you all jump to help each time I ask. I am astounded by the support that I have found among this international family of writers.

Specifically, to my mother. A force of nature who can pull an event together like nobody's business.
To my aunt Betsy, who sewed a hole in my dress, made delicious caramel, chocolatey treats for the event, and designed the Moonlit swag bucket.
To my dad, who can solve any case of jitters with a hug and a nod.
To Elizabeth, who moved heaven and earth to come, and the reason I kept my promise to never give up on Moonlit.
To my grandparents, a source of both inspiration and grounding, and who stayed out past their bedtimes to see this moment happen with their own eyes.
To Carrie, who made me believe I could, and coached me through reading excerpts over the phone.
To Stephanie, who gave the event a little extra spark, and flew to L.A. and back in one day just so she could be there.
To Heather, my Barnes and Noble rep, who was just as excited as me about the launch of Moonlit, and to the entire staff at the Buford, GA B+N that helped make one of the biggest moments of my life a joy and a success.
To my riders Anna, Ashley, Lou Lou, Marrissa, Elise, Sam, Erin, Tori, and Rachel B's and Rachel C's moms, by-proxy, and fellow coaches Alexa and Amanda, who absolutely made my night by coming to see this other part of my life.
To Katherine, who hand-crafted an amazing pen box that will travel with me everywhere I go.
And to my soul family: Ashley, Lori, Hettie, Tommy, Zack, Vanessa, Aiden, Greg, Beau, Zoey, Linda, Rachael, Katherine, Stephanie, and Abigial, who do whatever it takes to support their own, and who gave me a beautiful Cross pen, which will come with me to every signing I do.
And to those of you who I've never met who helped promote this launch online, Angela, Summer, Liz, Aviva, Ellie, Kerri, and more... thank you, thank you, thank you.

An editor: the best lab partner ever.

Soon after I signed my contract with WiDo Publishing, I recieved my first email from my editor,  introducing herself and explaining how she wanted my manuscript formatted for her first read-through. I'd heard horror stories about the editing process, and my short-lived experience as a writer in the political arena had instilled in me a sort of PTSD in regards to all red ink. But I was determined to soldier on and be brave about what she might say (or slash and burn.) When I emailed her, I told her not to hold back, and that the only thing I liked sugarcoated was my cereal. Or something to that affect. And then she explained to me what her role in this was: a partner, a side-kick, a sounding board. One edit turned into four, emails shot back and forth at all hours, and we became exactly that.

This is how I know best to explain the partnership between a writer and his/her editor. The process is more like a biology lab and not at all like a biology lecture. Lecture: the teacher stands in front of the class and yammers on for an hour, writing in chicken scratch on a dry erase board. Lab: you and your partner disect things, blow things up, create chemical compounds, mess with DNA, make fruitfly babies (gew.) You get the idea. You get your hands dirty. You get a little sweaty. And you REALLY learn.

My editor disected parts of my manuscript and we blew up other parts together. I started recognizing some of my own bad habits as a writer: my word addictions, redundancies, my reliance on metaphors, my odd way of breaking up dialogue and speaker, my obsession with having characters nod instead of say something. I was also forced to confront the weak spots in my plot and/or writing that I'd mentally swept underneath the stronger parts around it. She made me learn how to fight for my manuscript, and, more importantly, what to fight.

Ten minutes ago, I emailed my final line changes to my editor. So few, were they, that she insisted I send a "clean" copy (no mark-up bubbles, red text, etc.) so she could forward it directly to the copy editor. Five weeks, a big overview edit, and three line edits later, my manuscript is finally ready to move forward on this journey. The lessons I learned from my editor thoughout this process will affect the way I write forever. And as I write this little blog diddy, I can't help but wonder if she knows that, if she recognizes her lasting impact.

I knew my editor would change my manuscript. I had no idea she'd change me.