I said I’d report back when my hubbie finished my manuscript. Boy, that was taking a chance. What if he hated it, and I would need to confess to my handful of faithful readers that the story was a dud? (Or that he thought it was.)
Turns out, he loved it. He said that when he started reading it, he was pretty sure he would never be able to get into it, as he doesn’t read fiction and, to boot, it’s a teen romance. But it very quickly hooked him. Not only that, he laughed and cried in all the right places.
He said he thought it was a great book, and that it would make a great movie. Afterwards, he took me into his arms and teared up all over again as he started talking about specific scenes that made him cry. He added that, for my sake, he sure hoped it will sell.
So there it is. This marks a milestone in our 37-year marriage. I have always read and given him suggestions on sermons he’s written, for when he’s been asked to serve at religious conventions, but until now, he’d never read anything of mine.
As a result, it’s brought us closer together. That he took the time to read it validates me. We spent the weekend on Fidalgo Island in the San Jauns. When we took a walk along Green Beach, he vocalized more nostalgia, and a surprising openness to new possibilities, than I would’ve ever expected from him. In contrast my brain, which is normally troubled with all sorts of stressors, was blissfully empty and calm.