Behind the Pages: When Publishing Isn’t Perfect
There is a quiet myth about publishing that I am now learning.
It goes something like this:
You finish writing.
You upload the files.
A pristine proof arrives.
You exhale.
The book is born.
Reality, however, is far more human.
This week, another proof arrived for my book. I opened the package with the same flutter of excitement I’ve felt every time … that mix of anticipation and reverence that comes from holding months, sometimes years, of thought, memory, and effort in physical form.
And once again … there were issues.
Not something we missed.
Not the sort that comes from missed edits or overlooked margins.
But technical hiccups. Formatting quirks. Small misalignments that ripple across pages like tiny pebbles tossed into still water.
Houston, we have a trim problem!
For a moment, frustration knocked at the door.
I let it in just long enough to acknowledge it, then I remembered something important: publishing is not a straight line. It is a spiral. A return. A refinement. A conversation between vision and execution.
The proof stage is not a failure.
It is a collaboration.
It is where the book quietly asks, “Are we ready yet?”
And sometimes the honest answer is, “Almost.”
There is something deeply humbling about seeing your work in this unfinished state. It reminds me that creation is rarely glamorous. It is iterative. Layered. Patient. A little messy. Very alive.
There is an alignment issue on their end … all of our photo pages have an unintended gap :(
I think many of us imagine that artists and authors reach a point where everything flows without friction. The truth is: friction is part of the process. It polishes the final piece. It slows us just enough to notice what matters.
This week’s lesson wasn’t about perfection.
It was about persistence.
Each proof, each correction, each unexpected delay is not a step backward. It is a step toward clarity, toward honoring the work enough to let it become what it is meant to be, instead of rushing it out the door just to say it’s done, and frankly I, we, have worked to hard just to put it out there.
If you are creating something right now … a book, a business, a painting, or even a new version of yourself … and it isn’t unfolding in a straight, smooth line, take heart.
Progress sometimes looks like pause.
Refinement sometimes looks like repetition.
And becoming often asks for more patience than we planned to give.
This week, emails have been sent about print quality.
Questions have been asked.
Adjustments are in motion.
So … we wait.
But it is a different kind of waiting now … not the waiting of uncertainty, but the waiting of almost. The kind where you can feel the finish line just ahead, even if you cannot quite step across it yet.
We are so much closer than we were yesterday.
So much closer than last month.
And each small correction brings this book one step nearer to the hands and hearts for whom it was written.
Stay tuned.
The story is still unfolding … and I cannot wait to share it with you when the pages finally land exactly as they are meant to.
Almost is not failure. Almost is the doorway to refinement.
If you’re on your own creative journey, I’d love to hear what you’re bringing to life this season.