A box arrived from my publisher, Thomas Dunne Books/St. Martin’s Press. It contained copies of my book, My (Part-Time) Paris Life: How Running Away Brought Me Home.
This is really happening. Whew! I need to sit down.
People keep asking me, “Are you excited?” I’m on the edge of excitement but for some reason, I’m afraid to let go. I don’t know why, or what for, but I’m reserving elation, as if you only get one “wahoo!” moment for something like this, and I don’t want to use mine prematurely.
It’s all moving so fast—even though this has been two years in the making—and I feel like I’m still catching up to how huge this is. There’s also a never-ending list of things to do for book promotion, so I’ve been working long, hard hours, which could account for why I feel a little overwhelmed. Or maybe I’m staying wrapped up in what needs doing to avoid what I’m really feeling: I’m a wee bit terrified.
The day of reckoning is upon me! What if no one buys the book? What if it gets bad reviews. What if…? Ouf! I’m surrounded by the old demons again, asking, “Do I deserve this?”
I wonder if Steve Jobs ever felt like this, when he launched the new Mac, or the iPod. As great as we perceive him and his achievements, did he fight the same demons? Did his palms sweat when he gave his famous product reveals in front of that big screen, and even bigger audience, wondering if his newest baby would fall on its face?
“You can’t die from failure,” Parisian baker, Christophe Vasseur, told me when I interviewed him for my series. “So what if you lose all your money. You can always make more,” he said. “What’s the option? Not trying? That’s much worse.”
People think I’m courageous because I took the leap from a safe job to become a writer. But that was the easy part. This, right now, is much harder. I literally have had my future handed to me bound in a book. Where it goes from here, I can’t say. I can only do everything in my power to help success along. The rest is up to fate.
My launch date of October 11th is just a few days away now. This is it, kids—it’s happening. Hey, I just got goosebumps. Wahooooo!