I've been having this surreal feeling more and more as the realization of what I've accomplished sinks in. I've only had these feelings a few times in my life. Once, while trying to get home from the graduate school, I called for a taxi to time me to the airport. But the phone in my room wasn't ringing so I missed the call. So I called back and they said they had called to confirm but got no answer. So I hung up and about two minutes later I picked up the phone again, on a whim and the taxi company was on the line calling to confirm. Now the phone hadn't rung I just picked up the phone. And if I hadn't, I would've have missed my flight and very likely Thanksgiving with my family.
This is nothing like that time because it is the fulfillment of a dream. I envisioned this moment since maybe I was 15 in high school and it turned out to be nothing like I imagined. But after so much rejection (and I mean a lot) I figured I would never get the book published. And yet ...
It is not often that I surprise myself. Sometimes it happens when writing; I see something or make a connection that fits and it opens up a whole part of the story. But in my daily life, it is far more rare. In fact, I can't remember the last time I was surprised by what I did. But having my book publishing has done it.
I'm sure this feeling will wear off but not for a while because I'm in a strange new world. I've many new experiences ahead of me and I will be working with people that I barely know or who I've not met yet. So it should be an interesting ride.
In the meantime, there are a few lessons from this whole process that I can now put into words. But I'll save them for the next post, I think.
Keep writing, everyone.