Bookzilla

The weeks leading up to the release of one’s first book, I’m finding, is very much like the time leading up to one’s wedding — it’s pretty much the only thing on my plate, crowding out most everything else. In addition to all the worrying — and, me being me, there’s a lot — I’m also planning a great big launch party.

I’m doing this because, as I’ve said before, I was told again and again by writer friends that for the Big Day, which for me feels pretty much on par with other big days in my life, like the day I married my husband and the day my only son was born, a person really should make her own celebration.

My husband and I aren’t the type to do things quietly — so this party is shaping up to be significantly larger than only other really big party we’ve thrown together. Except this one is at our house. Which is not anywhere near as large as the grounds of the historic site where we were betrothed.

There are other similarities: I’m not sleeping well (evidenced by the bleary 4:30am blog post), I’m disproportionately concerned about what I plan to wear, and I’ve become an insufferable bore who can only think and talk about one thing. I am working through a to-do list like my life depends on it; today I toted my toddler on a total of eight errands. (He was a trooper, despite that fact that his mother was, and continues to be, a bit of a madwoman.)

In the flurry of something like a wedding or a book launch, it’s likely — especially for scatter-brained me — that I will forget to acknowledge publicly some of the people who were instrumental in making the day happen.

Like all my in-laws, who are experts in logistics and planning and execution — not to mention terrifically supportive — and without whom neither the book nor the party could happen. And especially my sister-in-law who is handling part of the food, who is infinitely more capable of doing so than I, and my mother-in-law, who has taken on the act of worrying about logistics right along with me.

And my husband, who when I said, tentatively, “Maybe we should have a little party,” replied with enthusiasm, “We should have a BIG party!”  And who matches every minor detail I relate during this phase of Bridezilla-like one-track-mindedness with seemingly bottomless interest and camaraderie. (Sometimes I think that’s a big chunk of what makes a marriage — can your partner match your obsession over minutiae? If so, then put a ring on it!)

And my friends, close and semi-close and even could-be-close-if-only-we-saw-each-other-more, who have been so unbelievably supportive that I want to give each of them a hand-made gift and make them a three-course-meal.

Special note here for my friends Jen and Ashley, who sent me the sweetest package this morning, ahead of my party — which they can’t attend because we all live ridiculously far away from each other — and who have been the bridesmaids to my bridezilla, responding to every little book-related communication with unflagging glee or consternation. Another note for Heather, who is pregnant with her second and is flying in from Canada (with only an hour to pack after getting home from a different trip) for one night, to help with the party. I know that I’m not nearly as generous, committed, or energetic — but you inspire me to try to be!

As excited as I am for the party and the launch in general, I’m also looking ahead, to that quieter time afterward, when the party is over and the book is out there and my long marriage to it — and I hope it’s long! — is underway. And I’m looking ahead to a time when I can really shift my focus to Number 2, which right now is being sorely neglected, like a well-liked acquaintance who didn’t make the cut when the guest list was settled.

For now, I hope I can remember — and I’m not sure I completely succeeded in this at that other big celebration, my wedding — to really enjoy it while it’s happening.

–Sd