It’s here. Mrs. Perfect is here, on the shelves, and tomorrow night I celebrate the launch of Mrs. Perfect with a fun new release party at Bellevue’s Barnes & Noble followed by chocolate-tinis and dessert at Ooba’s.
I’ve done this four times now. I should be an old pro by now.
Instead I’m nervous.
I am nervous because I have lofty goals and dreams. I am nervous because I am secretly fearful my dreams might be bigger than me, never mind an objective reality.
I am nervous because I want this book, just like every book, to do well. I want Mrs. Perfect to enjoy numerous–and large–reprintings. I want the story be embraced by readers. I want, oh how I want, Mrs. Perfect to be supported by brilliant sales.
It’s a curse to want so much. I shouldn’t want so much. I should be happy that I’m published.
Ah, I’m a wicked girl. It’s not enough to be merely published. It’s never enough, not after the first book, not after the first contract and first pub date and first release. No, publication has turned my head. Now I’m just plain greedy. Greedy and bold, impractical and egotistical. I dream big dreams. My dreams weigh on me.
How do we reconcile ourselves to what is? How do we accept that we might be mere mortals? That our dreams might never come to pass?
How do we learn to say: this is good. This is enough.
I do not know. I wish I did.
But until then, I will wish Mrs. Perfect a glorious debut. I will wish my readers a wonderful nights read. I will wish my children and friends much love and an adventerous life.
And maybe this is how we reconcile. With love and good humor, with compassion and kindness, we scale back the expectations. We ease off the pressure. We pull back demands.
Instead of more, we say thank you. Instead of jump, we say float. Sail. Savor.
It’s time I took a deep breath. Time to enjoy the ride.
It is, after all, a new adventure.
And lest we forget, tomorrow night we have much reason to celebrate. We’re not just serving dessert at Ooba’s. We’re pouring some seriously decadent chocolate-tinis. Party, anyone?