I want to share something that has humbled me—and, in its way, inspired me to keep going.
A while ago, I submitted my manuscript to a printer. I thought I was finally at the finish line. But when I tried to upload the files, the bell kept ringing:
Error! Error!
The staff member was kind but honest. The manuscript wasn’t ready yet. They recommended an professional who could help me realize my goal. I thought, Surely this is just a formality. But when the editor read my work, she gently told me what I hadn’t wanted to hear: it needed deeper revisions—structure, clarity, stronger character backgrounds.
And it wasn’t just the manuscript. The cover, too, had problems. A generous volunteer had painted it in watercolor, but the resolution wasn’t high enough for commercial printing.
I won’t pretend this was easy to accept. I had believed I was done. I wanted to be done. But the truth was, I was only at the beginning again.
This project isn’t a simple story. It’s over sixty chapters—two protagonists, two lives, coming together across years and miles, with a vast cast. In many ways, it is the union of two books.
Since then, I’ve spent weeks reworking each page, question by question. I plan to complete it by the end of July and return it to my editor. With her workload, it may take about ten weeks to hear back. Even so, I’m determined to see this book published this year.
Last month, I shared the story of a bird with broken wings that fell into a pool. Someone rescued it and set it on a warm stone. The other birds gathered—feeding it, drying it, staying close until it could rise again. And then it flew away with them, healed.
Some days, I feel like that bird—fragile and uncertain. But I believe that with care, faith, and time, we all find the strength to fly again.
Lately, I’ve been keeping company with a pot of tea. Last week, I found beautiful honey at a farmers’ market at my church. Now, I stir a spoonful into my cup. Somehow, that slight sweetness makes the long work feel more hopeful.
If you’re facing your season of unfinished work or slow progress, remember this:
You are not behind. You are simply on the way.
I’d love to hear from you:
✨ When have you had to start over?
✨ What dreams have asked you to be more patient or resilient than you imagined?
Feel free to share your story in the comments below.
Carol Guscott
The blog page is here:
https://carolguscott.com/blog/
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