Something that I never thought I would get to live is calling my mom the past couple of weeks and asking her why she hasn't finished my book yet. Sure, I am terrified NO ONE is reading it. I am starting to feel like Wayne Campbell in Wayne's World 2 about my upcoming book reading/Q&A on Zoom (Friday October 30th at 7 p.m.)
Alright, so nobody has signed up yet...and I'm not even 100% sure if enough people have read it to merit a book reading....
My mom's endorsement (I know, pathetic) is a huge one. She is taking so long because it is scaring her. She doesn't want to put it down but does because it is disturbing and scary (which she swears is good) and my silver lining? Oh...she's Joey! I mean, I grew up watching my mom on her typewriter swearing to me she was going to write the next great American novel. I was 5 when I would pull up a table next to her with my own typewriter that my father fished out of the trash and mimic her because...I wanted to do what she was doing. Here I am, 33 and I did it! Although....its way less impressive and way more work than I imagined at that age.
The point is...I am 33 and I get to harass my 61 year old mother about MY BOOK. So, that has to count for something right? Anyway, that's my mind dump for the night. I know last night I had a couple. I seriously want to get to work on manuscript six but I want to diligently work toward getting this book reading and obviously getting this book more visible and into circulation. I love the writing part. The promotional stuff? That's less fun. Instagram I think helps...this blog, I don't know. Time will tell I guess. I still wrote a book and I get to talk to my mom about it. That's the affirmation I need to keep reminding myself of. I fulfilled a dream and a mission. That little boy typing side by side with his mom on her typewriter wrote a fucking book. I think she's proud. I hope she is.
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