The first set of author copies for my new book arrived in the post a few days ago, and my wife captured the moment I opened the package on video. I watched the playback sometime after, and I saw myself trembling as I removed the fastening tape. I saw the moment I held the book in my hands, how I ran my fingers over the smooth, glossy cover, how I sniffed the spine, inhaling that familiar smell of paper, how I flipped through the pages, scrutinising the colour in the illustrations. My wife asked if I was excited, pleased, happy, in a tone that suggested to me that she had enough excitement for both of us, and then some. I answered yes, and I was telling the truth, I think.
The thing is, there was so much running through my mind in that moment. For one thing, it was great to receive the package. For weeks, I'd wondered when the copies would arrive, and then out of the blue, on my way to a gig the night before, I got an SMS from FedEx saying I was getting a package the next morning. My first thought when I looked at the SMS was that it seemed like a convincing scam, probably one engineered to get me to part with personal information. On further examination, having established that the link looked legit, my next thought was that it could be the long-awaited package from my publishers. I was right, but back to the moment I opened the package. Now that I think about it, I think my wife asked how I was feeling because I didn't properly emote in that moment. It wasn't that I didn't feel anything. Rather, I felt everything, so much that I was overwhelmed and I just froze, encumbered by all that emotion. The prevailing feeling, as I remember it, was one of "realness". Let me explain.
This book has been a long time coming. I signed the contract last spring, and since then, it's been a lot of hard work. Back in September, my publishers set the publication date – November 10, and then they told me to expect a package in the post. They said the package would contain my author copies and additional promotional materials, but they couldn’t tell me exactly when it would arrive. At the time, November 10 was several weeks away – it still hasn’t come – so all the while, the book release felt like something on the horizon, something out of reach, something abstract. This all changed the moment I held the book in my hands. It felt real for the first time. My dream of being a published author was actualised before my very eyes, and along with this dream, my worst fear turned from a distant prospect to a near possibility, because if there was no book to publish, there would be no possibility of being a failed author. But now there's a book, a very real book that could sell poorly, or garner the worst reviews, or just be completely ignored.
Now that I’ve had some time to reflect, I can say with the benefit of hindsight that these are some of the thoughts that flashed through my mind the moment I opened the package and saw the first print copies of the book. It felt real, tangible, concrete, and I didn’t know how to process it all. I didn’t know what to make of the thought of failure, or the dreadful feeling of not knowing how the next few weeks and months will pan out. But you know what? That's okay. I don't know what the future holds, but I do know that it will come, and I’ll find out what it has in store. The future will unveil itself in due course, and the book might sell brilliantly, or not at all. Still, it'll be a real book, my book, out in the real world. Whatever the outcome, I can take it on board and go from there. If it does well, it could launch my author career. If it does badly, I’ll learn from it and try again.
You can pre-order A Hollade Christmas here, and if you would like to read and review it before it officially comes out on November 10, please reach out.