The Resurrection
Breathing new life into an old manuscript
Recently, I decided to resurrect an old manuscript. The manuscript is thirteen years old. It’s even older when considering that I started working on it at least a year or two prior to its completion. The manuscript was to be a book to help young people in their transition from college into the real world. The manuscript had a catchy working title, 10 chapters and a list of resources at the end. I had thoroughly researched the topic — walked up and down bookstore aisles looking for similar books, read articles and conducted interviews.
I believed in it so much that I submitted the manuscript for copyright. I must have received notification from the U.S. Copyright Office and filed it away. I really don’t remember. While trying to remember, it occurred to me that I could look online for documentation of copyright registration. Praise be to the internet! Within minutes I confirmed that the manuscript was registered with the Copyright Office on April 25, 2005. I can also see that someone in the Copyright Office misspelled my last name.
With so much effort, one would assume that the manuscript was published. It was not. I wish to give attribution to a catastrophic event. I just lost steam. I also grew weary and overwhelmed in my search for a publisher. Self-publishing was not as accessible or as acceptable as it is today. So time marched forward and my confidence eroded. Life was happening and I focused on other things. I wasn’t that long out of graduate school and I was still trying to find my way in my career and in the world. For the most part, I was living out the very manuscript that I had just written.
But the manuscript remained a part of me. It was like that one love from your past that you think of from time to time. You remember him with fondness — all difficulties somehow forgotten. Over the years, those who knew of the manuscript would inquire about my progress. I would tell them something, “Yes…the manuscript! That was a long time ago. I’m blogging now…you’ve seen my blog!” Although I had physically put the manuscript away, it was still there. While I may call this a resurrection…truthfully, it had not died.
There was no Eureka! moment that led me to revisit the manuscript. Late one Sunday night, I was sitting in my bed journaling. As usual, I was writing about anything and everything — whatever my heart wanted to explore and wherever my mind took me. I journaled about my first experience with assisted stretch therapy, a childhood friend getting married, cooking chili, the shredding and purging of documents, dating and then this:
As I was writing and contemplating, I was thinking that the gift I would like to give myself is to publish that one book that has been in my soul for many years. It’s a book that my friends keep asking me about. I know it is something that I can do. I have to be free of the outcome. Just to write it because it needs to be written.
As I looked over what I had written, I knew that the time had come. It was time to pick the manuscript up again and to see it through to publication.
Some may see this as a calling. I’m not about to get all Ghandi on you. I see it as a question that I must answer. Why does this manuscript keep resurfacing in my life? The easiest answer is that this book wants to be written. But I know Life, and Life is never that easy. It’s not the finished product but the process that’s important — a process that is supposed to be a part of my journey. Because we are connected to one another, my journey is tied to others — to people I have yet to meet and some yet to be born.
Since that day of journalistic revelation, I’ve been working on the manuscript. I’ve been revisiting old content and writing new content. I’ve been interviewing again to ensure that the manuscript is current. It seems to be taking on a life of its own and I’m doing my best to organize my life around it.
Reuniting with my manuscript does not feel like the return of a lost love or that which accompanies love— feeling enamored and unsure until it becomes clear where (if anywhere) we’re headed. This is different. In the last 13 years, I have come to know this woman writer. I’ve lived out my topic while guiding others. I know exactly where I’m going and it feels good — like an old friend has come back into my life. We’re simply picking up where we left off.
