May my reaction to having a book published never be less than a tear infected, snot filled, scream fest.
I know it doesn’t seem like it in my books, or on this blog, or on any of my podcasts, but I’ve been keeping quite a bit close to my chest. Namely, FAILURE. STRUGGLE. BLINDING FEAR.
You know that movie Blast from the Past with Brendan Fraser and Alicia Silverstone? Brendan Fraser spends his whole life underground in a fallout shelter after his prepper dad mistakenly thinks a bomb goes off in the 1960’s. So it’s now the 90’s, and he comes back above ground all WTF? What is this world?
I know, I just get back here and boom, I’m sorta gone again. But to be fair, I have a really good reason. My second novel just came back with final edits and I have two weeks to complete them and I need to breath into my paper bag.
Most days I walk around my house pretending to be Oprah. You know, pre-weird about bread Oprah. I’m building an empire! Give me carbs and a house in Hawaii!
I am terrible at keeping secrets. I have been dying to spill this one. Signed, sealed and official.