This may be the last post from me for a while… I’m taking a break to focus on the next big project: Baby #2.

He’s due Friday, but like Baby #1, he still shows no signs of realising it.

Still, I’m optimistically typing this in the hope that if I don’t post this now, I won’t be able to do it later (because I’ll be rushing around birthing and feeding and catching up on sleeping)(come on baby!!).

So, since I’m faffing around waiting, I’ve composed a 10-step process that demonstrates why having a baby is like publishing a book:

Cooking a baby is much the same as cooking a book.

1) It seems to take much longer than you realise or even sign on for.

2) The first bit is by far the hardest: you are struck with nausea, your energy flags, you’re sure there’s no way you’ll ever reach halfway, let alone the finish line.

3) Once you’ve thrashed your way through the first trimester, you spend the next month or so confused. Did I actually write a book? Where has it gone? I don’t feel that different. I don’t look that different.

4) Then you get your edits back and you realise your life really has changed. You can’t wear all the things you used to love. You can’t do all the things you used to do.  In fact, important parts of you don’t even look how they used to.

5) You get used to the new you. You get used to doing things a bit differently (like getting out of bed). You accept you are on a collision course and nothing you can do now will wildly change the outcome.

6) Nothing happens.

7) Nothing happens.

8 ) Nothing happens.

9) You think you might have an exciting email from your editor. You don’t. You think you might have an exciting package in the mail. You don’t. You think you might take a long, relaxing bath. You can’t.

10) Finally, almost unexpectedly, something happens. It happens so quickly and so strangely that you almost can’t believe that it actually has happened. The proof, however, is in the tiny bundle you hold in your hands. Unspeakable joy and unspeakably fatigue. And it is only now that the real work begins. (And strangely, with time, you forget how harrowing it all was and you start to play with the idea of doing it all again. Ye gad!)

But me? Right now?

I figure I’m up to Step 9, although I’m probably closer to Step 7.

Oh well. I figure I’ll get to Step 10 eventually and by then I’ll be wishing for Step 11: Can’t-I-just-read-the-paper-and-have-a-coffee-in-a-quiet-sunny-place.

Wish me luck!!!

xxx