Not being a mother, it’s probably dangerous to equate anything with giving birth to a child. Mothers around the world will gird up and unite in taking me down for my presumptuousness. But to a writer, a musician, a painter or any creative person, the time and pangs you go through in order to bring forth something that you have created certainly feels reminiscent of being pregnant and finally giving birth.
That’s how I’ve been feeling about sending out a new novel, Sown In Tears, after working on it and mulling over it for several years. Even an elephant has its baby sooner than that. And of course, I want everyone to consider my “baby” to be beautiful and very, very smart. And naturally, I hope that everyone will run out and greet my child by buying the book immediately.
But a good friend who also happens to be a doctor once gave me some good advice when I lamented that I might never have millions of readers like perhaps the author of some blockbuster like Fifty Shades of Gray. He said that when he helps or saves just one patient’s life, he considers that better than winning the lottery and that if even one person loves my book or gets some insight from it, I, too, should feel that is reward enough. In Judaism it’s said that if you save one person, it’s as though you’ve saved the entire world. It’s true, that anytime a reader tells me that they have enjoyed either of my novels, I feel as good as if I’ve saved the universe. I’m sure mothers all over the world would say the same thing.