A day of celebration.
There’s that first school day and first kiss and first day at work, just to name a few. And then, if you are a writer, just like me, there’s that magical moment when you metamorphose from an aspiring novelist into a published one, and even that can happen only once in your life.
And I am thrilled and honoured – and yes, somewhat daunted – to tell you that today is the day; today my first novel will be published. And I have promised myself that it will be a special day, that today I can forget about the next novel and word count and everyday matters, that today I can stalk myself as much as I want on Amazon, and admire my book cover in all of its splendour. It’s a day of toasting and celebration – and a day of contemplation, and I think that no matter how chaotic it is, I’ll want to sit alone in my study for a good ten minutes, and reflect on the fact that from now on anyone, and I do mean anyone, can open my book and read the words I created in the solitude of this room. (So hi there, big sis! Open the champagne bottle: you’re off the hook as my one and only reader!)
So I think that I will forget about this blog for the next twenty-four hours. And who knows, maybe the next time I return to my Diary of Everything, I will have changed, be somewhat different, simply by virtue of having trespassed that intriguing threshold between to-be-published and published.
Maybe I’ll even have a new truth to tell.