So here I am, five weeks away from the launch of my book on that auspicious date of 03/03/09.
I’ve managed to make it this far without getting too worked up. For the past few months I’ve been in a kind of blissful, ain’t life grand frame of mind: I’m healthy, I’m in love, I’ve got a book coming out. What more could I ask for? Lucky, lucky me.
And then about 2 weeks ago, I started getting… revved up. Suddenly it’s hard to think of anything but my book coming out. Ever. Even while I’m sleeping.
I’m starting to feel a bit like Birdie, a character in my novel who has a tendency to speed up and get talky. Except in my case, it’s getting thinky.
If you could pull a live feed from my brain, it would contain a mishmashed jittery jumble of big ideas (for my next book), little ideas (what about adding a third reading in Seattle?), imaginings (standing in front of my friends at the launch party and tearfully thanking them for believing in me), fears (what if I get a bad review?), regrets (wishing my parents were alive to see this), reality checks (is this actually happening?) and occasional serene moments (ah, it is happening, at last).
All within the space of three seconds.