Its all starting to happen. In less than ten days (March 4th), Compromised is going to be in stores. Its going to be shipped to my brother-in-law and my best friend Vicki, who pre-ordered the minute the Amazon posting was active. (Thanks! Love you guys!) Some reviews are already being posted. It’s something I’ve been anticipating since I got the Call-with-a-captial-C over a year ago, and working towards for a couple before that, and now…
…now its all so calm. Weirdly calm. Where’s my overwhelming stage fright? Where’s my champagne? Where’s my massive book release party like Carrie Bradshaw had where Ron Livingston showed up and you knew she was pregnant that season because she was wearing all those no-waist flowy dresses. Granted, I would look like hell in one of those dresses, but I wouldn’t mind Ron Livingston stopping by. (note: I know Carrie Bradshaw is fictional. Its one of the main problems I have with that show). But I digress…
Don’t get me wrong, part of me is jumping out of my skin. When I got an advance copy of the book in the mail the other day, I skipped around my apartment like a five year old. But the other part of me, the much larger, more practical part, has to do the laundry. And my taxes. And go to work on Monday. And think of plot twists for my next effort. So any giddy nervousness I may have falls away. Which is unfortunate. Because you only get to have your first novel published once, and I want to enjoy every last hyper, silly, adrenaline fueled bout of stomach butterflies I get. T minus ten, nine, eight…