My novel, Lighting Candles in the Snow, is set to be released next month, September 18. And I’ve been taking it very well. Hadn’t noticed any undue anxiety or stress related to the final stages. My reviews will be mixed, some great, others not so much. Sales will be fine. Not fantastic but okay. The usual. Why worry? After all, it’s my fourth book, and I know what to expect.
Yet I’ve noticed an excess of stress over all kinds of other things. I won’t bore you by telling you the details of my anxiety-prone routine except to say that this morning it all became clear. I am transferring! My unconscious self is playing little tricks, making me feel uneasy over little meaningless things while the really BIG thing, a new novel coming out, remains untouched and pristine in its anticipation.
Because I am super-excited about this novel. I love the cover! It is perfect. The photographer and designer did an absolutely fantastic job, and it accurately reflects the tone and themes of this book. When I think of its release, I feel only joy. No anxiety. Weird and quite unlike me.
This one feels special to me. Maybe it’s the angel on the cover. Maybe it’s because the writing of it came so quickly and without confusion. Maybe how the characters took over the page and helped me tell their story. Unlike my previous works, Candles is not autobiographical. (My husband wants me to make sure everyone who knows us understands this.) And when I began, I was concerned that I could cut out a 65K word novel from the whole cloth of my imagination.
I feel euphoric when I realize: I did it! I finished the novel-writing Olympics and whether it’s a gold-medal winner or just the unlikely little guy crossing the finish line, what matters is that I showed up and finished and now here it is. Soon to be released!
Now to do something about my hair. Because it is really stressing me out.