“Well, isn’t this all very interesting!” said Jim Holmes, a freelance editor and publisher (www.greatwriting.org) in the USA, in response to my online query. “Have your story published – yes, why not? You definitely have the germ of a book there.” That was the beginning of the beginning.
Jim was emailing from Greenville, a town in South Carolina I had never heard of. He is a committed Christian who had spent some years in the UK and in Iraq. Given that I had come to the UK from Iran and that I am also a believer, clinched it for me. I had a light bulb moment which finally banished years of procrastination in writing anything about myself. How fortunate was I to have found the sympathetic ear of real-life publisher whose establishment was grandly called Great Writing!
As my writing and Jim’s editorial reviews progressed, I began to dream of visiting this fancy publishing house. In my mind’s eye I saw it as an imposing stone building, several storeys high, situated on the main thoroughfare, its façade graced by tall windows, its entrance glass-plated with a revolving door. Prospective authors carrying weighty manuscripts could be glimpsed coming and going and being greeted by a smart receptionist on the front desk. As the big chief, Mr Holmes’s office was the largest and airiest office on the top floor. I imagined him to be a tall gentleman with a noble brow and neatly parted silver hair.
Every writer needs an audience, and for me, a grandmother who had never written anything of note, my audience was Jim. Although all communication was online, Jim proved to be a good listener. That he also ended up becoming a hand-holder, sounding-board, editor, critic and computer pro, was something that neither of had initially envisaged. But we also recognised in each other a mutual love for Christ, a keen desire to serve the Father, and abiding interest in the written word. These things forged between us an alliance like no other.
Fast forward a couple of years: After my book was published, I finally made a trip over to Greenville to meet Jim. To my surprised amusement (and possibly his too!) Jim was neither tall nor silver-haired, though he is indeed a gentleman, and he does possess a noble brow. The grand publishing house of my imagination turned out to be a modest room over his garage. It’s the place where miracles of editing and publishing happen.
