Launch!

As I write this, I have 22 minutes left before my first novel gets released into the world. In case you wonder how that feels, let me tell you.

It feels like someone gave a case of Monster drinks to a dozen squirrels and turned them loose in your stomach. Or like some electrode activated every synapse in whatever cortex handles doubt and insecurity. You know, kind of like going to a party where you only know the friend who invited you, only to have that friend not show up and leave you there to face the scrutiny of the masses alone (and probably naked).

I suspect that all artists feel this on the edge of a release, although there is a fairly wide spectrum of coping mechanisms. Some are downright haughty, so arrogant and insufferable that they almost dare anyone to criticize their work. Others become professional apologists, freely pointing out every flaw before someone else gets to them. Almost none of us can truly let the work stand for what it is—present company included.

The current print edition has 9 typos of varying magnitude, in case you’re wondering. I just paid $25 to upload a new manuscript because I couldn’t stand to see “than” instead of “that” on a page I’d written. Maybe by the time you read it, the new MS will have at least 9 fewer errors.

There are more flaws, of course. But I’ll stop myself before I go any further.

Because the fact is that, while I don’t expect to win any Pulitzer, I feel good about the work nonetheless. An agent once told me that his favorite kind of book was anything that made him forget he was on the Subway. I think mine accomplishes that much, at least.

Eight minutes. I might throw up. But don’t worry—I won’t write about it if I do.

The fact is that I, like most authors I know, don’t write for validation or financial gain—a good thing, since most of us make little or no money on our work. I write in order to be read, and that comes with real risk. You want everyone to love what you do. You know some people won’t. You both crave and fear the reviews.

Still, you want to be read. I want to be read, at least. And I hope you’ll take a little time and a few dollars to check out this project. I’ll link to it here.

Thanks for reading and for sharing a bit of late night anxiety. By the time you read this, the book has launched. I don’t imagine it so much as a rocket, powering upward in an awe-inspiring arc through the heavens. Rather, I think of it as a kite, a little offering designed to bring some joy and inspire contemplation.

Just after midnight. The links are live. Let’s hope this thing flies.