Yesterday I was surprised when the courier arrived at my door with several boxes. It could only mean one thing: my books had arrived!
Funnily enough, it turned out to be the wrong shipment. The family - and I - got a laugh out of it and I contacted the publisher to let them know of the error. (I do however feel sympathy for the author who has to wait a few days longer for her books and wish that I could somehow get them to her sooner).
But today, disappointment gave way to another feeling altogether. Can you guess?
It should have been expectation and excitement. The only problem is: I'm not sure how I feel. After taking years to get to this place - for a variety of reasons including the downturn in the economy - one would think I would be over the moon. And I should be. The books are everything I had hoped for and the two thus far in the series look lovely together. Yet ...
I guess it's just the normal reaction of a mother about to turn her baby loose in the world. I wrote about this when the first book was released. But now there are other fears as well. What if my readers have forgotten all about Katie and Rhiannon and Samuel and have no interest in their continuing story? After all, some of my original readers are "all grown up" now. What if my readers don't like what I've done with the original characters? What if their expectations are not met? What if it's really not any good at all? ...
I could play What if? all day but the fact remains: I'm petrified.
But at least this time I didn't wait years to open the book and start reading it!