Writing the Book I Almost Didn't Publish

More than a decade ago, I wrote The Snow Globe, a middle-grade novel about courage, belonging, and discovering strength you didn’t know you had. I wrote it before I had kids, before many of the leadership experiences that now shape my life. For years, the manuscript sat quietly as my life changed around it.

Two years ago, I was ready to self-publish. The book had been edited. The cover was complete. And then someone asked me a single question: Is it your best work? The honest answer forced me to slow down, revisit the story, and give it the time it deserved.

In this episode, I share the long arc of writing The Snow Globe, the decision to wait instead of rushing toward closure, and what finishing well has taught me about leadership, integrity, and honoring creative work — especially at the end of the year.

If you’ve ever carried a project longer than you expected, this episode is an invitation to reflect on what it means to finish with intention.

If you’d like to check out The Snow Globe, you can find it here.

If you’d like to follow along behind the scenes, you can find me on Instagram at @erinpatriciageiger.

Transcript

Unknown: 0:00

Announcer,

Erin Geiger: 0:10

hello and welcome back to Clover. If you're listening during the week, this episode comes out. We are in that quiet stretch at the end of the year. The holidays are here, but the urgency has eased a little. Meetings are fewer, and boxes slow down. There's a little bit more room to think. I've always felt like this week invites a different kind of honesty, not the loud goal setting kind, but the quieter kind, the kind where you notice what stayed unfinished, what kept tugging at you and and what you carried with you longer than you expected. It's kind of like where this episode lives. It's a solo episode, and I want to share the long story behind my novel, The snow globe. It's a story I wrote, gosh, more than a decade ago, before I had kids, before this version of my life existed, and it's the one I almost published before it was really ready. So I wrote the snow globe over 10 years ago, at the time, I was in a completely different season of life. I wasn't a parent yet. I wasn't running the businesses I run now. I hadn't lived through many of the leadership moments that later reshaped how I see courage and responsibility. What I did have was a story that wouldn't leave me alone, the snow globe. It's a middle grade novel. It's written for ages nine to 12. So it's kind of like if you grew up loving Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, the Land of Stories, you know, the kind of book, I mean, stories where kids face big questions and unfamiliar worlds and Discover Strength they didn't know they had a lot of adults love those too. Like, I'm a huge Harry Potter fan, but at its heart, it's a story about courage, belonging and identity, and without really understanding why. At the time I wrote it about two brothers, that detail felt like, I don't know, incidental. Back then, it was just part of the story. But then years later, I became mom to two boys with the same age difference as the brothers I'd written about. So that coincidence just feels a little uncanny. But when I look back now, it feels like the story knew something that I didn't even know yet. So for a long time, the snow globe just existed quietly. In my life, the manuscript followed me through career changes, big decisions, new responsibilities. Sometimes I'd revisit it, sometimes I'd avoid it, but it never really fully left me. So about two years ago, I decided it was time to stop carrying it around. I had the book edited my friend and truly incredible artist, Sid Deb, created a beautiful cover inspired by my boys. Seeing that cover for this first time, I was, like, emotional in a way. I didn't expect the story suddenly had a face, right? Had like a presence. It felt close, it felt real. It felt ready. So then a colleague introduced me to someone who had experienced success in both traditional publishing and self publishing. I assumed she talked to me about timelines or platforms or marketing, getting it out there, but instead she asked me a single question, is it your best work? I remember the pause that followed because the answer came quickly in my mind, even if I didn't want it to and that was No, I didn't think the book was bad. I knew I wanted it published because I had been sitting quietly for years. I wanted a resolution. I felt like I wanted closure more than I wanted excellence, so I was like, I'm just going to get it out there. So she gently reminded me that publishing changes the relationship you have with your work. Once it's out there, it's no longer private. It's not just for family and friends. It lives in public spaces that you don't control. So then she recommended a book, save the cat writes a novel. Reading that book changed everything, not because it gave me rules, but because it gave me clarity. It showed me where the story was thin, where characters needed more room and where emotional beats deserved more care. So instead of rushing forward, I actually stepped back. I reworked scenes, I deepened some of the arcs. I let the story grow up alongside me, I guess, right, I learned to sit with the discomfort of knowing something wasn't finished yet and trusting that it would be that process took longer than I anticipated. Obviously, life didn't pause while I rewrote the book. Kids grew, work expanded, time kept moving, but something in me shifted during those years, right? Like, I don't know it's hard to explain, like, Wait, waiting like, no longer felt like avoidance. It felt more like integrity, if that makes sense. So coming back to the snow globe, as a different version of myself changed how I understood the story courage felt less theoretical. Belonging felt more fragile and more earned. Strength looked quieter than I had imagined when I first wrote it. So finishing the book reminded me that leadership doesn't always show up in big, visible moments. Sometimes it looks like holding yourself to a stick. Standard when no one was asking you to so that question, is it your best work? It actually followed me into other areas of my life, not as pressure, but as a check in a way, to slow down long enough to notice whether I was moving from urgency or intention. So as this year comes to a close, I know many of us are looking back at things we started long ago, ideas, we paused, projects that stayed unfinished longer than we planned. There's often a lot of pressure this time of year to tie everything up neatly, to finish fast, to clear the slate, but sometimes finishing well takes longer than we expect. Sometimes the work needs more time and so do we. So for me, honoring that truth meant waiting until the snow globe felt whole, not rushed or dusty, but fully realized. So if there's something you've been carrying, a story, a project, a version of yourself, maybe this quieter week offers a chance to revisit it with honesty and care. So thanks for being here with me in this reflective space. I'll see you next time on clover, and I will very proudly add a link to the snow globe that has been self published woo in the show notes you.