Wednesday, 17 October 2012

Upon holding one's new book for the first time ...

Does anyone else burst into tears when they first hold their new book?
Or is it just me? 
The contractual publisher's copies of my new book,
The Gargoyle at the Gates, have just arrived on my doorstep. As a third book in a YA series, I wondered if I could love it as much as numbers one and two (The Gargoyle in My Yard, The Gargoyle Overhead).
This is a new publisher, a slightly larger size for the book, and well, as much as I love them, it's the third time around the dance floor with many of the same characters. 


When my first book arrived at the door in 2009, my husband took pictures of me opening the box and clutching a copy in either hand. I poured champagne into a thermos (!) and walked the neighbourhood, pounding on friend's doors and showing them my new baby. We drank champagne from coffee mugs on doorsteps. A friend coughed on a celebratory cigar (I declined).
When my second book arrived, I took pictures of my new child stacked up against the wall in my office. I spent a whole day mailing copies to far away family members. There was no champagne that time, though.
Now here is my third book, stacked patiently on the mantel. I am busily finishing another book (off to the editor this week) and trying to complete grant applications, while also planning a launch and bookstore appearances for book three. 
Still, when I opened the box this morning and pulled out that first copy, I did burst into tears. Why? Ask any writer you know, and I'm sure they'll tell you the same thing: spontaneous joy just never gets old.

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