Last year around Thanksgiving, I wrote about how grateful I was for my family. It is hard putting into words how amazing they are, but I tried.
Today I will try again. I’d like to talk about my husband, who, when I talk about him online, I call “my beloved.” It started out as a way to keep my personal details private, but it has now grown into an actual name I call him.
Where do I begin? Seven years ago, I’d gone through a horrible break up and subsequent divorce from a man I’d spent eight years of my life with. I was heartbroken, devastated, and, most of all, disillusioned with love. I wasn’t sure that I would ever love again, let alone get married! But as time went on, I found myself feeling lonely and in need of companionship. So, I put up a personals ad online and waited to see what happened. I had no expectations. I only wanted to find someone to date. And it was to be casual, because I wasn’t ready for anything else…or so I thought.
So I get this communication from this guy, who was pretty good-looking, judging from his photo. We wrote each other a bit, chatted online, and then exchanged phone numbers. Again, low expectations. But I was pleasantly surprised when we talked for more than two hours each time, and even more surprised when he asked me out. So we agreed to go to a park nearby. He was to pick me up at my house. What’s funny is that he lived not five minutes away from me! And I’d never known it.
(Here’s where I talk about the strength of my intuition. In the past, I’d gone out with guys from the internet and would always meet them somewhere for safety reasons. With my beloved, well…my gut feeling was that he was safe. I’ve always trusted my intuition. It has never been wrong. But, as my in-laws pointed out at our rehearsal dinner, I had no idea if it would truly be right. But I never felt more sure of anything in my entire life.)
Okay, so it was nice. We had a nice dinner, a nice conversation. He showed me how to fish. And…he kissed me! (As a rule I don’t kiss on my first dates…but as per the pattern here, my beloved was the exception). Yeah. Total surprise, but it felt right. A few weeks later, he told me he loved me, and I said it back. And I meant it. Everything up to this point was the most natural, right thing I’d ever felt.
Three years later, we were married in a small wedding chapel with our family and friends gathered with us to celebrate. It was a beginning, but it was also a triumph for both of us. We were both divorced and believed in the power of second chances (and a rainbow, which we’d seen several times and decided it was a good omen).
Things have been great, but they’ve also been bumpy. But no marriage is perfect, and marriage is hard work! But it’s totally worth it. I wouldn’t leave my beloved for all the money in the world — because without him, it would be meaningless. We’re good together, we make each other laugh, but most of all…we support each other.
My beloved has known, pretty much since the beginning, that I’m a writer. But he really didn’t understand what that meant till we moved in together and he watched me struggle with this or that, or when I’d be ecstatic about a great writing session or a neat plot twist that I thought of. And, when I self-pubbed Fey Touched with Turtleduck Press, he was my biggest fan. He was there through it all – my frustration with the formatting (it was a nightmare) to my elation when I got the first look of my cover. And everything else in between.
Sales have slowed down some, and I have been frustrated with it, but have been plugging away at getting more eyeballs. One day a few weeks back, my beloved came home from whatever he’d been doing, telling me that he’d won the lottery for me. I’m like, “Huh?” He went on to say that he’d visited a local bookstore for reasons he couldn’t say (but I’m guessing it has something to do with my reading obsession) but happened to mention that his wife is an author, and the owner said that they sell the books of local writers. Apparently, she has quite the sci-fi/fantasy following.
I thought I’d heard wrong. “She sells local authors’ books?” I asked, totally in shock. “And she’s willing to sell mine?”
He said yes and yes. We went back over there to talk further, and I found out that they take a tiny bit of the proceeds, and the author gets the rest. And they try to hand sell, which is awesome, and how they are concerned about losing sales to ebooks (so, support your local indies! Seriously). Anyhow, to make a long story short, I was geeked and stoked and ready to rock and roll. I got more author copies and hightailed my butt over there. My book is now in a prominent place on the front counter.
Here’s the conversation we had while browsing (I have since bought 4 paperbacks from them):
My beloved: Wow, this is so cool, having your book on the shelves.
ME: It’s been my dream since I was little, to see my book on the shelves…and I figured it would never happen. But it has. Because of you.
How many women have a husband who believes in them so strongly that he goes out and makes her biggest dream true? How many women writers have the unwavering support of their husband, and have since before he read a word?
Because, folks, this is it, my biggest dream. If I never sell another book again, it’ll still be just as real. Because my book is there. (And I used to troll through Walmart’s book section, getting depressed because my books would never grace their shelves). And I owe it all to my best friend, my #1 fan — my beloved, for making this happen. For handing me my dream and for letting me — and my characters — into his heart.
There isn’t anything in this world that I’m more grateful for this year.
So, thank you, my precious beloved husband, for amazing me and supporting me and loving me, for believing in me as writer. For giving me the priceless gift of your love. I will cherish it always.