So...I just realized that my book comes out in about a month and a half.
Suddenly, I'm almost glad I'm kind of sick (cold/flu/sniffles/sinus infection sort of thing - nothing to worry about). You know how you are when you don't feel awesome, and you have stuff to do, and your mental capacity completely focuses getting through the task ahead of you, mainly because you don't have the energy for anything else?
Yep. That's where I am.
And if I had more energy, I'd probably be wasting it on the most EPIC FREAK-OUT IN DEBUT AUTHOR HISTORY. The kind of freak-out that keeps you up in the middle of the night, wondering if anyone is out there reading an ARC of your book right at this second, and if they like it or if they hate it, or if they find it (horror of horrors) forgettable. The kind that lures you to scour the internet for reviews of your book, tempts you to sit at your computer refreshing your goodreads page over and over.
So, this sickness has strangely filled me with gratitude. Being low on energy has made me really buckle down and focus.
I honestly don't have time to freak out. I have a revision to tackle, a transcontinental flight back to Charlotte, a doctor's appointment to schedule and attend, a bridal shower to plan, author signings to set up, chapter samplers to design and order, mass mailings to conquer - and that's just by the end of next week.
I would rather be a Sniffle-Monster than a Vortex of Angst, Insecurity, and (Possibly) Despair - and to be perfectly honest, that's kind of where I was headed before I started feeling sickly.
Of course, I'm still going to try and get better. But by that time, I'll be too busy to bother freaking out. And after that, I'll hold my finished books in my hands and I'll be celebrating too much to freak out.
Really, this is a post about stress management.
Okay, I need to go back to revising. I left Lena in a workshop with a bunch of matches, and Rory needs to make sure no one accidentally lights their sleeves on fire.
This is the Sniffle-Monster, signing off....
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