Today is release day. My normal routine would include a copious amount of coffee, a few standard posts about the release on social media, and then a small panic attack immediately after I disconnect my laptop from the wi-fi. After that I would normally force myself to write. Those sentences and chapter normally get deleted later on for lack of structure and poor content. My brain basically shuts down and I hide from the outside world.
Not anymore.
Today, I’m going to embrace what I love about release days. I’m going to celebrate my release. I’m going to scream and shout that it’s LIVE on every social media outlet. I’m going to read the reviews – the good and the bad. I’ll embrace the good and learn from the bad.
I will stalk my GoodReads and Amazon pages for new reviews hourly (at minimum). I will stalk my author rank and sales rank and everything that I’m normally too afraid to look at for fear of failure.
Why?
Because failure is in the eye of the beholder. I love my book. Not everyone will but it matters that I do because I put my name on it. I put my stamp, my seal of approval on it. I wrote the damn thing. It took me hours and weeks to make it the way I wanted it. It took time to figure out how I wanted it to end.
This book may sell one copy of a million copies. Either way, I’m happy with it. I love my characters. I love their story. Those simple facts alone make this book a success.
I’m embracing release day.
So… here’s a little sneak peek into Next for all of you.
Once I finish, we both sit back in our seats and digest what I just said out loud for the first time ever. It felt good to get it off my chest, but I’m now waiting for Elliot to blow. He’s going to have an opinion I’m sure. I’ve kept this from him for so long that hearing it now makes the situation ten times worse.
“Say something. Please. I need to know what you’re thinking right now. I need to know if you hate me.” I beg him to speak to me. He’s staring at me, studying me. You can see the wheels inside his head turning, going over everything again and again.
“He’s not coming home, Reagan. He signed up for another four years. I don’t know what you want me to say. I love you. You’re my best friend and you always will be. I’m not angry, maybe a little disappointed that you didn’t tell me sooner, but I’m not angry. If anything, I’m sad. I’m sad for you because he’s probably never coming home. He doesn’t want to even come home to visit.”
My heart drops and shatters in my chest. All my dreams of being reunited with Luke when he was out of the Marines… gone. He’s not coming home. I have no idea when I’ll see him again or if I’ll see him again.