The In-Between: Learning to Live in the Waiting

No one really talks about how much waiting is involved in publishing a book. They talk about the writing, the revisions, the heartbreak of editing, and the triumph of typing the final sentence. They talk about book launches, signings, and the dream of seeing your work on a shelf. But the part no one prepares you for is this, the in-between.

I have completed my book. I’ve shed tears over it, struggled with it, molded it, and cherished it into existence. Now, it occupies this transitional space in my mind, no longer solely mine, yet not fully released to the world. I am discovering how torturous the waiting can be.

It’s a strange kind of angst this season. I wake up thinking about the book. I wonder when it will finally be published. I imagine what it will feel like to hold it in my hands for the first time, to flip the pages and smell that fresh ink. And then I wonder: will people read it? Will they understand it? Will they see themselves somewhere in its pages?

The truth is, this waiting feels more vulnerable than the words in the book. It’s standing at the edge of something big, knowing I can’t control the tide that’s about to come in. Some days, the anticipation feels thrilling, like being on a rollercoaster just before the drop. Other days, with family and friends asking about its arrival, feel endless, as though I’m stuck in traffic but “almost there.”

Almost Time

However, there's beauty in this situation as well. The waiting is helping me learn to trust the process. It's a reminder that books are more than just words on pages; they are journeys that require the right moment to come to life. Just as I wasn't prepared to write this book years ago, perhaps the world wasn't ready either until now.

So I sit with my angst, learning to make peace with it. I remind myself that anticipation is part of the story. After all, once the book is out there, once it has left my hands, I’ll never get this time back; this is the space where the story is still fully mine.

Maybe waiting isn’t just an obstacle. Maybe it’s an invitation. An invitation to reflect, to prepare my heart, and to grow into the author I need to be when this book finally finds its readers.

For now, I wait. With hope. With impatience. With gratitude. With a little bit of angst. And with the belief that when the time finally comes, it will be worth every second of this in-between. #fromtheloquattree

Sincerely, Gail