Today is the day.
I’m sweating bullets but you can’t see that. Good. There is a positive side to this whole communicating without physical presentation thing—a.k.a blogging. You might be wondering why I’m sweating bullets and it’s a good thing you ask. No, I didn’t just come from outside where this damn Florida heat can knock someone out with a just a walk to the mailbox. (Believe me, it has, and no amount of Mitchum can cover that up.) And no, the bullets are definitely not due to exercising. You can’t hear me, but I’m laughing at such a silly possibility. I mean, yes, I do exercise, but I find I’m much better at sitting in the recliner writing. We all have our talents.
The reason that today is the day and I’m sweating bullets, is because I am *finally* self-publishing my debut novel, Escape from Harrizel. Yikes! But a good yikes! I’m so excited that the last few years of work have come to fruition in this story that I hope you’ll love! But what if I want to go back and change something? Or I find a typo? Eeek! I have the ability to re-upload, yes, but I want it to be absolutely perfect and no, there’s no such thing. I realize this. I really should have a glass of wine. Or two. Or seven…
It’s a big thing—big to me, at least. I’ve wanted to be a writer since… wait, let me think about this… *scratches chin*… oh yeah. Forever. I’ve wanted this since forever. So, it’s been a pretty long time coming to see a dream finally realized. We have a local book event (not as awesome as it use to be) where actors would dress up as deceased authors, walk around, and have conversations as that person. I think I had the pleasure of meeting Mary Shelly one time. Even as a girl (I’m still female—just want to clear that up), I wanted someone to dress up as me in the future, sporting my 2000’s fashions. Ambitious, I know. But as Batman says, you’ve got to dream big. So I have. And I hope you like what I’ve come up with:
This is now available for you reading pleasure. Only $4.99
(Also available on Amazon, Kindle….)
My friend, Red, said I need more pictures in my blog. I agree with him, but I hope it wasn’t a hidden insult about the content not being awesome enough on its own. I mean *flips hair* how could the content not be amazing enough to hold your attention? But I guess it is true. As much as I loved reading Harry Potter, I did enjoy seeing the little sketches at the beginning of every chapter. That might not be the same thing, but it’s relatable. So, for your viewing pleasure, he’s a picture of a really pretty plant I saw on a walk I took around my office building today:
And another one:
Nice, huh? I thought so. I took a few more shots but these are the best. I also thought about taking a picture of the two flies that got caught in my coffee mug this afternoon, but that’s somewhat morbid, right? I mean, here they are—two buddies, I’m assuming—in their last hour of life. Would it be ethically right to snap a shot? Their tiny wings and skinny little legs kept flapping, trying to free themselves, but we all three knew it was futile. At least they were able to float in a delectable concoction of Folgers roast and French Vanilla creamer. It’s actually not a bad way to go. Until, of course, they took the slide down the sink drain when it came time to clean the mug.
I wonder what their final conversation consisted of. Maybe they discussed their crash landings, or how the world changed since their entrance 24 hours earlier, or maybe, they regretted not finishing everything on their little fly bucket list. And before they knew it, they were being tsunamied, never to get another chance at life.
If I ever find myself in a giant mug of hour-old coffee and the inevitable swim down the drain is upon me, at least I’ll know I did my best. I tried. There will be a check next to the “publish a book” box on my own bucket list.
And that’s good enough for me.
…God, I really hope one of them wasn’t Jeff Goldblum.