Hello Everyone!
In this post, I want to share the journey of writing my book. It’s a complex tale, influenced by numerous experiences, but I’ll do my best to summarize. Back in Spring 2023, I took a brief five-day trip to Italy, during which a significant event occurred—one I’d prefer to keep private. However, it stirred a whirlwind of emotions within me, filling me with joy and euphoria. Certain individuals I encountered became catalysts for what was to follow, as if a small door had swung open inside me.
Upon returning to New York, I found myself with some unexpected free time. The very next morning, I felt an overwhelming urge to write. Though unsure of what to express, as soon as my fingers hit the keyboard, a story began to unfold before me. I drew inspiration from my solo journey to Rome and a previous visit about a year earlier. For years, I had a disdain for Rome, perceiving it as chaotic and filled with rude people as my last visit had been during school trips. However, when I returned with my husband and friends in 2022, I fell head over heels for the city. I saw it through the eyes of a tourist and felt an instant connection, which ultimately inspired a short story that became Chapter 12 of my book.
I completed this story in a single day, unable to stop as excitement surged through me. The words poured out, and it felt surreal. Unfortunately, the demands of everyday life—full-time work, family commitments, and daily chores—pulled me away from my writing, and I set it aside until September 2024. During a month-long visit to my mom in Italy, I felt at home again, waking up to the familiar sounds of neighbors and passing cars, transporting me back to my time living there. Time flew, and as I prepared to leave, I found myself with unexpected free time—my work as a photographer allows for a flexible schedule. I decided to dive back into writing, telling myself to explore earlier events in my narrative. I found a starting point and began typing, completely immersed in the process, as if I had been transported to another realm.
I spent anywhere from 12 to 17 hours a day at my laptop, to the point where my fingertips ached. Each evening, I pondered how the story could unfold or conclude, but no ideas emerged until the next morning, when the words began to flow effortlessly onto the page. I wrote about 18 to 20 pages daily and, in less than two weeks, I completed the manuscript, even losing about ten pounds in the process—I was so exhilarated that food became an afterthought.
When I finally finished, a wave of satisfaction washed over me. I printed out the pages, holding my manuscript with pride, and struggled to sleep that night. Without much thought, I decided to publish it. With no prior knowledge of the process, I spent days researching and reading relevant articles. Amazon seemed like the most straightforward option, so I took on the task of formatting and translating the manuscript from Italian to English myself. This proved challenging, as I was unfamiliar with terms like bleed, trim, margins, and justification. Nevertheless, my determination pushed me through, and I successfully published both the Italian and English versions. Unfortunately, my eagerness led to some oversights, necessitating a thorough review of the manuscript for corrections.
I joined various groups to promote my book, wrote numerous posts, and engaged in collaborations. I couldn’t stop myself; I even created this website to share more about my journey. It felt like I had been holding back for years, and now I was finally unleashing my creativity.
I uploaded my manuscript to several platforms, including Blurb, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Lulu, Apple Books, and Google Books. Perhaps I’m making a lot of noise over something trivial. Yes, I’m not a professional writer, and it’s possible that no one will ever read my story or that those who do may find it poorly crafted or uninteresting. There are countless talented writers out there. But you know what? That’s perfectly okay. This endeavor is a personal achievement that I will cherish because I poured my heart and soul into it. It isn’t just a mediocre tale written by an imaginative woman; it’s a narrative imbued with my feelings and experiences, both past and present.
One day, as I sit in a rocking chair on my porch, a blanket draped over my knees and a cup of tea in hand, I’ll look back on my life and proudly declare, “I wrote a book!”
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