I did not sleep at all last night.

I sent Scott what I had written of my memoir and the moment I hit send, my belly was a mess of nerves, a hot bowl of anxiety soup.

The internal voices started again, all of them talking at once. Even though they were a mass of words, I had heard this mantra before:

Would he like it? Would he expect there to be more written by now? Would they pull out of the contract? Would they refuse to publish it because it was so awful?

These may seem like very irrational fears, but I think to a writer they are just normal thoughts of self-doubt.

I didn’t sleep very well last night. I had nightmares. I don’t really rememer what they were except one part of the dream where I was wearing a ballet outfit and being called a whore.

I woke and went to work, my belly still a mass of wasps and blackflies. And then I checked my email. There was an email from Scott and he gave me relief; he killed my fears and made me feel so much better:

I have just read through all of this and I think it is remarkable stuff, really very powerful and moving….This really is a fine piece of work and you should feel proud of your ability to put this into words.

I was able to breathe again, to take in deep breaths and feel the air puffing out my lungs. Beautiful, gorgeous air that tasted of success.

But he also gave me something else:

I personally still feel that One Step At A Time is your best title.  The footsteps image appears frequently through the book and it has so many connotations with CP, with the life journey etc. that it really feels right to me…..

And so my nameless journey has a name.

And I can breathe again….