So, here’s the thing. It’s almost 1:30 in the A.M. Which means that everyone in my home is asleep, including the “Panting Urinator” aka the dog. They are all snoring, every one of them- the husband, the children, the aforementioned “Panting Urinator” and here I am, writing a blog post.
I’m writing a blog post because I’m so sleepy that I’m nearing borderline drunkenness. And you know what they say about “writing drunk and editing sober”, although I have no plans to edit this once I’m done writing it. I’m just going to hit “publish” and send this nonsense out into the world as soon as I’m done, which probably isn’t the wise thing to do.
And by “probably”, I mean “definitely”.
So, what I’m saying is- is that I’m so sleepy that I’m delirious right now, which means I’ll probably write something entertaining. Just bear with me if I don’t write anything entertaining. Just read it and nod and then get back to your Jello Shots Recipe Pinterest Board.
My book. (It’s okay. Roll your eyes. I’m going to talk about it anyway.) My book that everyone is so tired of hearing about- that book is doing well right now. No, Bradley Cooper still hasn’t called me about the lead in the movie, but otherwise everything is going swimmingly. That’s the first time I’ve ever used the word “swimmingly”, even whilst swimming, so that should tell you how “swimmingly” it’s going. That’s also only the second or third time I’ve ever used the word “whilst”.
But my point is that I’m overwhelmed and eternally grateful and humbled and blessed that this book- this book that I keep droning on about- is selling. I thought I may sell a few copies to my family and a blind great aunt cousin in the mountains who we shunned after a raccoon incident several years ago. I thought it would do okay, at best.
But this town that I call home- and the people in it- have really embraced it and actually liked it and sat with me on their front porches to ask questions about it and invited me to their book clubs and showed up for my first book signing in droves and given me encouraging words and commendation and their hard-earned money and showered me with kindness that I don’t even deserve. These people, in this town, have blessed my life more than they even know. I’ll never be able to accurately tell them how thankful I am for their support. Although I’m really trying with this delirious blog post. (I just saw a Care Bear wearing a taffeta dress in my mirror. And I’m not even sure what taffeta is. I really do need to go to sleep.)
And my Facebook fans- strangers whom I’ve never met, share my book on their pages and tell their friends at Wednesday night hand bell practice all about it. And these people, whom I have never met and probably never will- leave 5-star Amazon reviews for it and send me emails of encouragement and ask me about a sequel and recommend it to their Memaw’s canasta club. These strangers, along with this town, have made this book rise on Amazon’s ratings. These people have made my dreams come true, as disgustingly cheesy and motivational poster-y as that sounds. These people have made me say weird, sappy phrases like “dreams come true”.
And that’s why I can’t sleep. Because I’m overwhelmed at the support and the love and the friendships that I have made- both local and virtual. That’s why I’m typing this blog post while everyone sleeps and snores, including the panting and peeing dog, because I can’t quit thinking about all of the kind words I’ve heard and read over the last several weeks. And I can’t quit thinking about the cold pizza in my refrigerator. And Fanta. I don’t even think I’ve ever had Fanta, but I’m thinking about it.
This blog post is chocked full of firsts—the first time I’ve ever used the word “swimmingly” and the first time I’ve ever used mushy phrases like “dreams come true” and the first time I’ve thought about taffeta or Fanta. And I just realized taffeta and Fanta kind of rhyme. That’s the first time I’ve ever realized that, too.
Anyway, I know what you’re saying after reading all of this and all of my “thank you” posts on Facebook and hearing the speech I made on the toilet paper aisle at Dollar General yesterday when a stranger approached me and praised my book and looked at me kindly like I was a real author or Tina Fey or Jane Austen or someone else funny and smart enough to write a book, and I thanked her to the point that she had to back up a few steps and then she grabbed her Charmin and ran. (Not really. It was Angel Soft I think.)
You say, “We get it, Susannah. You’re thankful. Move on.”
And I will.
But not just yet.
Because I was raised to say “thank you” for the little things- so I’m certainly going to say it, and continue to say it, when people encourage me and have nice things to say about that novel that consumed nearly three years of my life.
This book will be old news soon.
I’m aware of that. And I’m aware that a sequel has been requested. So maybe, although you don’t want to continue to hear my thanks and overwhelming emotions about it all, I’ll be thanking you for all of your support in the sequel next year. And maybe I’ll say Bradley Cooper finally returned my phone calls and production for the movie is underway. And maybe “swimmingly” will be my new favorite word. And maybe I will have consumed Fanta.
Or maybe the sequel will suck and the support and encouragement will be absent.
Either way, I just want to say it one more time: THANK YOU. Thank you friends, thank you strangers, thank you Lord for your perfect plan and timing.
Wait, I woke up because I forgot to tell you to go buy the book on Amazon if you haven’t already done so. There’s a link to it on my sidebar. If you buy it, I’ll thank you for it.
You know I will.