Things are heating up with the book! I sent the acknowledgements in earlier this week, they’re typesetting it next week, and I just got word that it is officially scheduled for a Spring 2014 release, and will likely be available for pre-order in December. I should have the all-clear to show you the cover any day (and have warned Ignatius that my self control is running low and there may be an accidental Twitter upload if I’m asked to wait much longer).
For most of this year, I would often go a week or two without hearing anything about the book at all. Now, almost every day there’s something I need to do or an email to reply to that’s related to the book, which I take as a sign that we’re getting close. This is so exciting!
Speaking of which, if my post seems short today it’s because I just found out that I need to cut my acknowledgements section in half due to space constraints. In my publisher’s defense, what I turned in was kind of long. Or, really long. Okay, I pretty much wrote a sentence extolling the virtues of everyone I’ve ever met (and a few people I haven’t).
I don’t know if this is a personality quirk or something that would be stressful to anyone, but the idea of cutting my acknowledgments section by 50% is just agonizing. The thought that I might forget to mention someone who helped me through this process — or not having the space to rave about how much I appreciate them — is the kind of thing that people like me lie awake agonizing about for very long periods of time. So my post today will be a bit short so that I can get back to that (agonizing about it, not working on it).
We all need to finish up our winter reading early and clear off our calendars starting in March, because Spring is going to be a huge season for book releases. A bunch of friends and friends-of-friends are releasing books within a few weeks of mine: Melanie Shankle, Lisa-Jo Baker, Tsh Oxenreider, The Nester, and Elizabeth Esther all share Spring release dates for their new titles. It’s like Santa Claus is coming with a bag full of goodies, and he knows that people who love memoirs by bloggers have been really, really good this year.
I think that I’ve become the creepy stalker woman of Instagram. I keep following people who have no idea who I am and only have like 10 followers and probably would prefer that only friends and family and non-internet-weirdos follow their posts, all because I’m addicted to having a bunch of photos from really cool places in my feed.
It all started when I noticed that you can click on the location where a picture was taken, and then see all the other pictures that were taken at that same location:
Now it’s become a personal contest to seek out the most hidden, exotic places in the world, see who is taking pictures there at any given moment, then follow them all to see where they go next!
(This is why people like me should not have internet connections.)
The other day I mentioned to Yaya, my Southern Baptist mother-in-law, that I was going up to the church for confession. She was curious about the concept, and we ended up discussing it for a while. She said she’d often thought of what I told her after my first confession, about the power of verbalizing your sins for someone else to hear. She considered it for a moment and said, “I guess I could go up there and do that. Although I think the people would be shocked by what I have to say!”
Evidently the impression I gave is that Catholics stand up in front of the congregation and shout a list of their sins for the entire church to hear. I laughed for a very long time when I imagined that that’s what she thought I was doing all those times I went down to the parish to “go to confession.”
I finally created a “Best Of Blog Comments” folder. I get so many fascinating / hilarious / insightful responses that I’ve been meaning to do it forever, and now it’s all set up. In case you’re wondering which comment finally pushed me over the edge, it was this one from Lynne, in response to a post where I talked about my toddler loudly demanding wine in the grocery store:
The screaming for wine made me laugh. It reminds me of a time my (then) 2 yo (now 23) was misbehaving in Target. I gave him a swat on the bottom (discreetly and gently, of course) and he began to scream, “Don’t spank my p#nis!” Repeat that ten times in a screaming voice in the middle of Target sometime and notice how the world seems to be whirling in a collapsing vortex with you at the center. My mother’s wise words to me? “That’s what you get for teaching him that word!”
I tried to read the sentence about the world whirling in a collapsing vortex to Joe, but each time I ended up gasping and laughing so hard that I couldn’t speak. Finally I had to just push my laptop over and let him read it for himself.
Thanks for being so awesome that I need a “Best of Comments” folder, guys.
Let’s start the weekend with pets in small spaces, shall we?
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