I'm not ready! I'm not ready! I'm not ready! This week feels huge and busy and really great and terrifying, too. I read at Powell's on Hawthorne this Wednesday, the launch party is on Sunday and somehow I feel as if I've fallen under the wheels of a runaway wagon. It's my lack of skill as a marketer of my work and self--how does Facebook work? Don't ask me, though I've had several tutorials--thanks to the magnificent Liz Crain, I still don't get it or why I should blog, if it seeems no one is reading these posts. I think of the David Bowie song--can't remember the title just the lyrics, "Ground Control to Major Tom--Can you hear me, Ground Control?" Yeah, that's me.
Anne Lamott says that if you're waiting for publication to give you something it will be a long wait. I'm paraphrasing here, but she's right. I've never felt so out there and exposed--along with a good measured dose of embarrassment about my words--the book is lovely--the cover all of it but looking through to choose what to read it all seems like doody. I can see now how lame a writer I am or maybe I'm better now but it's too late for that to matter with this book. And all the nice things people have said are canceled out by the bitch in my head.
And then there's William Stafford who once wrote that he'd give it all up to write the next thing.On my shelf is the next book waiting for me to love it again. Karma's story is so different than Janie's and I have not the time or energy to go to it now. Junot Diaz says he hasn't started another project since Oscar Wao because he's still busy with that. I get it and I'm overwhelmed.
I so want this book, Little Green, to sell well and to be read by people for whom the story will resonate and produce some little burst of light in their own life.
