But I’m like a wigwam and a teepee, I’m too tense. If that UPS truck doesn’t come until late afternoon (the first copies of the book are arriving via overnight express) I might literally pass out in the foyer.
I had rather an exciting day yesterday, considering that nothing really happened. I’m nervous as a cat waiting for the bound samples. I mean, anyone would be. It will be my first real look at the finished book. It’s very much like waiting for a baby, which I have done three times. And this is my sixth book. It’s all very familiar.
This has been a particularly extended wait, though- a year and a half of work, and the press time of course made longer by me sending the plant back for another run.
What a crazed and beautiful project this has been!
This morning, I sent an email out to Maria Cristina (one of our intrepid, beloved, talented Advance Beaders) and I included one of the pages from the book to clarify, and I looked at the page, and it was magnificent.
And I remembered the final read, at two airport gates and on two airplanes, and how much I liked it, how I laughed, and made things in my mind as I read.
And I’m hopeful. But I can’t take much more suspense. I realized recently that I don’t like the feeling at all. Life is so exciting all on its own; who needs fear added in? I have plenty of thrill without it. My entire life feels like downhill skiing, a romantic novel, a seafaring voyage, a scrappy existence on the land, exploring new continents, charming savage beasts, making a movie of a Shakespearean play, a parable, or a medley that will never end, and a nap in the sun at a beautiful resort, with cats. I should watch a scary movie too? God help me. I don’t think so.
Cleverly, I booked a slot at Electric Larryland tonight, so I can forget myself and everything I stand for in the arms of the universe.