Last week came the news that, for good and positive reasons, the publication date of my and Clara’s book is being shifted back from June to September.
Having a book come out is often compared to having a baby. And I’ll admit this does feel a little like, having completed the first trimester and reached the 12 week ‘safe to tell people’ stage, being sent back to the beginning for another bout of morning sickness and endless needing to pee.
But I am rebranding it to myself as even MORE pleasurable anticipation time. I am not too bad at waiting for things. Once upon a time I was a midwife and that involved a lot of learning to be patient. Babies tend to arrive more happily if they are not jostled about and rushed along. Sitting in a corner of a room watching for one to make an appearance in the small hours of the night generated some of the funniest, most memorable discussions in my life.
Then my most successful cooking tends to be the put-everything-in-a-pot and leave it alone for hours, heat it up a few days later sort. And whilst I cannot claim to be a great gardener, the handful of times I have managed to raise something from seed to (snail-nibbled) fruit have felt TRIUMPHANT.
So September will be just fine. Marvellous in fact.
But what to do while I wait? There would be plenty to fill an equivalent 9 months of pregnancy: Classes and appointments to attend. Equipment to shop for. Magazines and instructional books to swot up with. There should be similar checklists to occupy the Expectant writer. Preparing a room with an empty bookcase? Choosing the right pen for signing? Coaching in how to have a book ‘naturally’ without being sucked into continuous electronic monitoring of Amazon/Good Reads?
I could knit I suppose. I made a very small cot blanket when pregnant with my first child. Perhaps now’s the time to finally put these crochet squares together and make a little welcoming book nest.
Or I could distract myself with a new hobby- Beginners Japanese, Tae Kwondo or French Patisserie perhaps?
I know how I’m supposed to fill the months waiting for a book to be published.
I’m supposed to write more books aren’t I?