But I’m not.
Actually, I’m freaking out. One moment, I’m ecstatically dancing around the kitchen. The next, you’ll find me gibbering in fear in the corner.
You see, I went to Goodreads to grab a copy of my blurb, because I was honestly too lazy to drill down through several layers of files on my usb stick, only to notice that there’s 10 people who have marked Bite Me Tender as To Read.
And I don’t know them.
So, I am literally doing the yo-yo/rollercoaster emotion thing.
Maybe they’ll say nice things about it.
Maybe they’ll hate it.
Maybe they’ll notice all the weak spots, because they aren’t actually just in my head.
Maybe they’ll demand a sequel right now. (I’m not sure that this one isn’t the one that scares me the most.)
The only thing I do know is that they have nothing invested in this story, except the time it took to read it and bit of pocket money. They don’t have to like it.
That scares me, too. I really like my boys. I like the story, but I really like my boys. And my girls. Levi, with his low-key sense of humour. Glyn with his sharp tongue and all those unexpected chinks in his armour. Gram, who quite properly terrifies me, in case she comes to visit. Even Bryan and Holly and poor Connor, who has much more depth than I could show in this story.
And so, I sit here, with a couple of half-wild tomcats fighting in my belly, and try to figure out how I’m going to get through the next couple of days without going completely nuts, instead of just mostly nuts. Because, really, at this point? I am completely powerless. They’re out of my hands.
May they find a happy home in yours.