Okay, I'm not an author yet--Love in Reality will be on sale early next week--but I have a laundry list of stuff to do that's a mile long and includes school work AND writing the next book in the series, so forgive me if I'm jumping the gun.
Plus, I'm excited. Okay, so that's actually nerves. I'm nervous. Nervous that someone will write to me about some hideous mistake. Not the other kind of mistake--the kind where all you can do is thank the person very sweetly and inside you just shrug.
For example, I made a modest effort to learn about how a reality TV show like Big Brother (i.e., a locked house with a motley crew of contestants in skimpy costumes competing to win a lot of money) is made. I even called the production offices. They hung up on me. So if someone who's worked on a Big Brother-style show writes to say, "Boy, are you dumb," I'll write back and agree with them.
But if one of my law professors writes to say, "Did I teach you nothing?" I'll die a little. How embarrassing!
Okay, that's one of the things I'm nervous about. Here's another: Crickets. As in, Cue the...
How mortifying if we publish this, I tell everyone I know it's out there, I advertise, I guest-blog, people review it on Amazon or Goodreads, and...
Not even crickets.
Yeah, okay, so it's unlikely, but it could happen. Even the possibility makes me nervous.
Because at least a bad review is better than no review at all. And way better than those darn crickets.