What It's Like Being a To-Be-Published Novelist
Things I've done over the past two days:
- Bounced a lot
- Gotten congratulated a lot, and been pleased by the number of people who seem to think this is good news for them rather than for me
- Been pleased and a little worried by the various prayers to Nyarlathotep, Cthulhu, and Mother Hydra for the book's success. I'm pretty sure that's not the scale these guys work on...
- Been terribly distracted by Miriam learning to wave
- Jotted down ideas, way too far in advance, for publicity swag (Esoteric Order of Dagon Temple Fund cookbook outtakes; flyers for events at Miskatonic...)
- Jotted down ideas, way too far in advance, for a post-launch party at Wiscon 2017 (salted chocolate and caramel, tome exchange, probably can't afford to feed everyone sushi...)
- Been terribly distracted by the possibility of alien megastructures 1500 light years away. Tried to convince myself that weird comets and dust-free planetary collisions would also be awesome. Tried to figure out whether 1500 years is long enough to finish building a Dyson cloud.
- Been very grateful that I ended up with a publisher who works ridiculously quickly. Twenty-seventeen is a long way away, and to imagine my state of mind with the usual time frame of novel sales and publication is not to be borne. I know a lot of people who've managed it; I remain deeply grateful that Carl is as impatient and deadline-driven as I am.
- Found out which characters my editor ships.
- Repeated to myself: "Before novel acquisition, carry water, chop wood; after novel acquisition, carry water, chop wood" as I wash dishes, feed the baby, and clean wildly in preparation for this weekend's visit from my in-laws.