Hi there, Sugar here.
When I got home from work on Friday I had a big package waiting for me at the door. I knew it wasn’t a pair of shoes. (I haven’t ordered any in months.) I suspected they were the bookmarks I ordered from Earthly Charms. (Great site!) But when I picked up the package and felt its weight I knew it couldn’t be just book marks. The address confirmed that the package was from my editor, but for some reason I couldn’t imagine what was inside. My book is not out until nearly September and since I only have a vague idea what goes on behind the scenes I wasn’t expecting Advance Reader Copies yet.
But there they were and when I saw them I squealed a little. I had a book! An actual printed book. No longer was it an idea in my head, or words on a screen. It was on paper. It had a binding. I could hold in my hands. I could inhale the pages. I was excited to say the least. But I realized that this was a huge step in the process. ARCs mean that now real people are going to be reading my book. They are going to be reviewing it. Some of them will like it, some of them won’t. And it scares me a little because, my baby, my first book, the thing I’ve thought about and sweated over for the past year and a half is being released into the world to be critiqued.
My mother made me give her a copy. That’s an even bigger thing than having strangers read it. She hasn’t read anything I have written in years and she doesn’t normally like romance novels. I’m afraid she won’t like it. I told her that if she doesn’t like it to lie and tell me she did. Which of course she will. I’m not sure why, but having my mother read something I wrote is weird for me.
What about you all? Do you let your family members read your work?