I woke up this morning to an email from my agent. IT'S HERE! IT'S HERE! IT'S HERE! is written in the subject line. My debut book, Sanctuary for a Lady, arrived at her office yesterday and should be arriving at my house yesterday or today. Except I'm not home to get them! My mom had ear surgery at the beginning of the week, and I'm 600 miles away from my house--and my books--for eight days. So I'm sitting here wondering, "How on earth did I mess this up? I mean, I've been wanting to open that box and hold a book in my hand for FOREVER! I even have this vision of crying when I first see the book.
Then I remembered a little bit about myself figured out why I'm messing up my "first book moment." You see, I'm also the person who missed "the call" when my editor called to tell me her publisher originally wanted to buy the book. (My mom was visiting and took a message for me to call the editor back. Are you noticing a pattern here?)
And as if messing up my writing moments isn't enough, I'm also the woman who forgot to kiss her husband when he proposed. Seriously, he gets down on bended knee, pops out the ring, and asks the question. And what do I do? I say "Are you for real?" and then don't even remember to kiss him until we're walking back to the car.
So I've decided my personal life is probably part of the reason I like writing so much. I write all those perfect moments for my characters in my novels, because I can write them over and over again until they happen the way they're supposed to. On the flip side, I always seem to mess up the personal moments in my own life. Go figure!
What about you? Have you bungled any of your own "perfect moments?" I'd love to hear some perfect moment bloopers. Or are you the type to walk away from a proposal looking like a princess?
I'll post a picture of me holding my book when I get back home, just so all you wonderful readers can see it. Maybe since I have a week to plan out my hold-your-debut-novel moment, I won't bungle it quite so badly. Okay, that's probably a lie. I'll likely trip over the box of books, hit my head on the hard wood floor, and give myself a concussion. But I can still dream about that moment being perfect, right?