Back in July, when I first got The Email (it wasn't The Call, but close enough for me) I was so excited I could barely breathe. No kidding. I passed out a couple of times. Lucky I didn't bang my head too hard.
Somewhere in August, when all the edits were done, the thrill started to wear off. I had new stuff to get excited about. The blindingly rapid response to another submission to Freya's Bower for one (5 minutes. It's got to be a record.)
Then Monday, after having lunch with a friend, I got home to pencil in that we planned to meet again the following Monday and it hit me. The following Monday was Labor Day and she probably won't be free for lunch? No. I mean that too, but the following Monday is the Monday. The Monday I've been waiting all my life for.
The day my book comes out!
So I've been walking about two inches off the ground while simultaneously feeling sick for days and it's reaching a crescendo. By Monday, I should be curled into the fetal position, moaning and floating two inches off the ground.
What would I have done if I had been scheduled for December release like I was supposed to be?