Baby in the form of a book


From the time I can remember, I have always been writing (I used to steal my mother’s checkbooks and doodle on them). And I’ve always loved to read (even if it was my horoscope and nothing with any meat to it). I’ve always had unfinished journals lying around and lists of ideas and visions taped to my bedroom walls (ask my college roommates).

I have been a creative person since birth.

In high school, my best friend and I started writing this “book” (we seriously thought Oprah would ask us to come onto her couch). I’m still friends with my bestie, but life got in the way and the “book” was left to collect dust on the top of my highest closet shelf.

Time went on and I could not shake the nagging voices––characters voices––from my mind. I kept hearing, “write me, write me”. These characters were starting to become some of my closest friends.

It wasn’t until I had my daughter and thrown into the thick of Postpartum Depression where I felt like I needed to finish this blasted thing once and for all. I decided that writing would bring me out of this constant, never ending darkness…

That’s when I hauled out a mountain of composition notebooks and loose leaf papers that had endless amounts of words with no organization to them whatsoever. It was overwhelming to say the least.

But I knew above anything in the world that I needed to finish this.

My conscious says, “Morgan, this is a stupid high school pipe dream. Let it go!” But my gut tells me otherwise.

Even if it sucked so bad that my dad (who reads everything) couldn’t read it, then at least it was DONE and I had no more words to say. I owed it to my high school self and my present depressed self to at least finish it.

Well, it’s been 2 years since my daughter was born and I’m just now putting my face to the cement. I’ve been treating it like a 9-5 job. When I’m not working at the job that actually pays me, my head is in the clouds with this project.

Well, I can officially report that my book was sent off to a professional editor today. It took a chunk of my money along with a shred of self confidence.

I’ve never considered myself an author because I’ve always had the connotation that that meant I had to be this published and uber successful person with my words. I’ve learned that is simply not true. It doesn’t matter if you love to write grocery lists or 130K word length novels. If you think yourself as a writer, you are!

Who likes rejection? No one. Who loves being supported by their family and friends? Everyone. That’s why I’m writing this.

Apart from really close friends and family (and a writing group I belong to), no one knows I write or even have a book in progress. It’s just something I don’t talk about because I’m afraid of rejection and there is this negative judgement from people when you say “I’m a writer.” It shocks me how much people denounce writing as a career.

I need support. I need it like I need air.

Support comes in many different shapes and sizes. Just by reading this post is supporting me. And then when the book is finally done and a pretty cover is wrapped around it, reading it and giving me a review (or a pat on the back) would spread a smile across my face.

Maybe praying to the writer gods for me as well, will help.

This is a very vulnerable thing for me to do. I am an introvert by nature where I drain from social interaction and putting myself out there. It’s paradoxical that I want to share my work with the world while wanting to keep it to myself.

The editing process shouldn’t take too long and then comes the step of pitching to agents my idea so that they will want to publish it. It’s as scary as it sounds.

I’m a very live-by-the-signs girl. If I have a burning in my belly and in my chest, I take that as I’m doing something right. I had that feeling when I moved away for college and I had it when I married my husband. Both decisions shaped my life for the very best.

I have that burning with this book, people. When I think about the things I see for it, I get really jittery. In a good way.

I’d like to leave one last thing with you. It’s one of my favorite quotes and what I have lived off while I go through this process. I tell myself this quote when negative thoughts tell me to stop while I’m ahead. I encourage you to contemplate it for yourselves with whatever you want to do.

“Decide that you want it more than you are afraid of it.” 

Thanks for reading this novel in itself.