I handed in another revision of my manuscript a few moments ago.

I finally figured out why I have blogged so much about the process of revision:  the process of revision is a long sort of goodbye.

My book has been about more than just words.  It has been a major relationship in my life.  It has been a comfort through some rough times–changing careers, initiating a divorce, etc.

With each revision, I let the book go and bid it farewell in new ways. For all that is to unfold, I can’t help but feel what I’m leaving behind.

I have spent the last several days re-reading the manuscript.  I can’t even begin to calculate how many times and drafts I’ve read. This time though, I saw new things in the manuscript.  No, not just typos, but the the sum total of years of dreaming and hard work.  I like my writing.  I LOVE the book that is emerging.

But I also miss the steady and strong refuge that the book has provided me.  Like a growing child, the book doesn’t need me the way that it did in earlier stages.  Like a lover from whom I’m parting on good terms, the book won’t occupy the intimate space it once did.

It is all good, don’t get me wrong.  The changes make room for what’s next, both in my writing life and in the rest of my life.

Tonight, I’m happy for both myself and the book that’s emerging.