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I wrote the last line of my first book, Torch, and then spent an hour crying while lying on a cool tile floor in a house on a hot Brazilian island. After I finished my second book, Wild, I walked alone for miles under a clear blue sky on an empty road in the Oregon Outback. I sat bundled in my coat on a cold patio at midnight staring up at the endless December stars after completing my third book, Tiny Beautiful Things. There are only a handful of other days in my life--my wedding, the births of my children--that I remember as vividly as those solitary days on which I finished my books. The settings and situations were different, but the feeling was the same: an overwhelming mix of joy and gratitude, humility and relief, pride and wonder. After much labor, I'd made this thing. A book. Though it wasn't technically that yet.
The real book came later--after more work, but this time it involved various others, including agents, publishers, editors, designers, and publicists, all of whose jobs are necessary but sometimes indecipherable to me. They're the ones who transformed the thousands of words I'd privately and carefully conjured into something that could be shared with other people. "I wrote this!" I exclaimed in amazement when I first held each actual, physical book in my hands. I wasn't amazed that it existed; I was amazed by what its existence meant: that it no longer belonged to me.
Two months before Wild was published I stood on a Mexican beach at sunset with my family assisting dozens of baby turtles on their stumbling journey across the sand, then watching as they disappeared into the sea. The junction between writer and author is a bit like that. In one role total vigilance is necessary; in the other, there's nothing to do but hope for the best. A book, like those newborn turtles, will ride whatever wave takes it.
It's deeply rewarding to me when I learn that something I wrote moved or inspired or entertained someone; and it's crushing to hear that my writing bored or annoyed or enraged another. But an author has to stand back from both the praise and the criticism once a book is out in the world. The story I chose to write in Wild for no other reason than I felt driven to belongs to those who read it, not me. And yet I'll never forget what it once was, long before I could even imagine how gloriously it would someday be swept away from me.
What a remarkable journey detailed in this book. Well worth the time to read. So many amazing people we meet on the way....Published 12 hours ago by Mary Morrison
I had watched the movie before reading the book... What a fantastic and inspiring journey.. Thank you for sharing your storyPublished 18 hours ago by Melissa
This was the most boring book I've ever read. I was waiting for something to happen, and then it ended. She hiked the PCT, the end. Don't waste your time.Published 21 hours ago by Annie Mallon
Her perseverance was inspiring but the book occasionally seemed repetitive. It's still worth the read.Published 22 hours ago by RLM9CH
Cheryl, and I, have had a lot of similar issues in life's game of life. It was very encouraging to read of another person that has gone into the wild (mountains) to purify their... Read morePublished 23 hours ago by K_R_H
I really enjoyed the book! Amazing journey! This is so inspirational in so many ways. Worth the time to read:)Published 1 day ago by Joyce Paulinho
People have some intense reactions to this book. From the "she is a modern guru" to the "she's not a outdoor person". Lots of emotion. Read morePublished 1 day ago by L. Warner