The Night Before The Big Day

Tomorrow is the early release party for my new book, Everyone Deserves To Know What I Think, which releases Monday on Amazon and in bookstores (and if you can't go and want an autographed copy, you can still preorder through Sunday).

Tomorrow, I'll get to A Cappella Books in Atlanta a little earlier than everyone else... Probably about 6:15 PM. I'll get the books to the store and help set up. I'll talk for a while with the staff, who are exceptionally nice and very supportive of local authors. People will begin arriving, and there'll be conversations and a lot of joy all around. I'll start talking about 7:00 PM, and I'll try my best not to bore everyone.

Then, I'll sit at a table and sign books for anyone who wants to buy one, and of course I'm hoping that's a lot... But I'm not expecting anything. I am simply preparing to enjoy the feeling of having finished something, produced it, put it out there and having people support it.

For tonight, I'm stamping books with the official embossed seal of This Is Not Art! Productions, my silly name for my silly imprint of a publishing company. I think it's a cool little thing to do to books I actually sign and ship out myself. I'm sipping some coffee. My dog is snoring on the bed next to me. I've got They Live! playing on the TV, because it contains some of the best catch phrases in film history ("I'm here to kick ass and chew bubblegum... And I'm all out of gum.") It also has the single greatest unnecessarily long fight sequence ever. It keeps my mind off of the fact that all I want to do right now is throw up.

Every time I pick up a book to stamp it, I flip through it and I catch a little something different of my own words staring back at me from the pages of a book I wrote and produced. A real-life book. That I wrote.

The third I've written, actually. And the second I've published myself. But it all feels new. It feels like the first time. There's still part of me that feels like I'm cheating, or getting away with something. Like I'm breaking someone's rules, or defying someone's demands. Like any minute, someone's going to break down the door and take my boxes of books away and say "Dude, what were you thinking... You can't do this."

I guess I'm just an asshole that way, because the more I feel like someone says I can't, the more I'm ready to prove I can.

And tomorrow, I'll be doing that again. But this time, as a full-time writer. And who knows, I may fail. But rather than hope I don't fail, I'm going to work as hard as I can to keep that from happening.

Tonight, though... I'm going to try to keep my leg from shaking all night and puking my guts out.