When? Where? What? I sound like Vinnie Barbarino from Welcome Back Kotter now, don't I? But, when I get word that one of my books is coming out, I get a little crazy. Um.. ok, for those of you out there in cyber land who just fell off your chairs, I hope you get a ginormous bruise the shape of Louisiana on your butts. Fine, crazier, are you happy? Good, now get up off the floor.
My novella, Tigre Moon, is coming out in the Alien Seduction Digest with Midnight Showcase .. um.. soon. Yes, I'm wiggling around on my chair like a 1st grader after way too many trips to the water fountain! For one thing, this is a couple of firsts for me.
First scifi, (ish) first nonfunny, and first real erotic piece of work I've ever submitted for publication, so I'm nervous. On one hand, I don't want it to come out, but on the other, I'm ready for people to say yeah, we like it or no we don't so I can get that part over with and move on. Or more likely consume vast amounts of chocolate and hide under my bed for months on end, but that's another blog for another day when I actually have that substance in my house. If I talk about it now, my hubby may be injured as I'm sure he ate the last piece. *grr*
My point is, is there ever a time when an author is comfortable enough about their work where they don't experience what amounts to stage fright? Will I ever feel like everybody won't think it's horse dung? Will I ever think they won't open their mouths and scream like Donald Sutherland in Invasion of the Body Snatchers and let everyone know I'm a poser proser just pretending to be a real author? If so, then when, after the third, fourth or fifth or even the tenth book?
It's not the difference between ebooks and prints for me either, I've held my books in my hands, so that ain't it, girls and boys. And I know that if I got the 'call' today from one of those giant publishing companies and had the golden contract handed to me on a silver platter, I'd still feel in my lil redneck heart I'd still be waiting for the other shoe to drop (not that I wear them if I can get out of it mind you) and for someone to say. "She ain't a real author, now is she?"
Wait, that sounds suspiciously like one of my kinfolk, or else, like Me. Hmm. Now we're getting somewhere. Who knew blogging could be therapeutic? Or else, my assorted personalities are so busy reading what I'm typing they forgot to block it out. Well, ha to them! I won this round! Have a great weekend everybody!
Coming someday soon to a blog near you,
Jennochio.. a real live author *winks*
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