The last few weeks have been a bit rough. We lost a dear family pet, and taking care of and keeping watch over him occupied most of my spare hours, as well as my emotions. Then, when it was finally over, I was exhausted mentally, emotionally, and physically.
But in keeping with the pattern of life being either incredibly eventful or intensely boring, with no in-between, last Wednesday my publisher posted this on Twitter:
And I was like, Whut?
Then two days later I was holding actual, printed books filled with my words. Three books to be exact.
One I read with alternating feelings of distress and awe.
I. Wrote. This.
Another copy was grabbed by my teenagers, who gave it a hearty thumbs-up (they know who orders the pizza around here). Even the (remaining) cat seemed to like it.
And now comes the terrifying part. The third copy (and probably also one of the others soon) is embarking on a tour among other YA debut authors of 2017, taking its first steps into the world, where it will be read by relative strangers who will then post reviews of it on GoodReads and social media.
Right now I'm alternating between the weird calm I get when something's completely out of my hands and panic at what they will say. That's a bit silly considering we've all pledged to review kindly - we are a support group, after all.
But these Advanced Reader Copies aren't just for me. They exist so my publisher can promote the book. That means many of these have also been sent out to get reviews, blurbs, and early sales.
If that's not terrifying, I don't know what is.