They're coming to take me away, haha heee hee ho ho, to the loony farm, where all the writers go ..ha ha heehe they're coming to haul me alway ha ha

I couldn't sleep last night. I tossed. I turned. I turned. I tossed. My synapses fired off -one two three fifty-five-thousand-and-four. I had benign thoughts like, "What should I wear to the book signing reception on Friday?" My pea-headed brain went through the contents of my closet (such as I could remember) and rejected rejected rejected -- then my thoughts turned to how I needed to clean out my closet -- then my thoughts turned to shoes - then to how I needed to get rid of some shoes -- then should I go buy something sparkling new for the signing - then no, I shouldn't; I have enough stuff and in fact wasn't I just saying I needed to get RID of some stuff?

Then my brain went over here and over there and over yonder. Boing boing boing boing!

I thought, "Oh! I hope I am here when my books get here (today? tomorrow? the next day?) so I can take a photo of the delivery person hauling my box out of the delivery truck!" Them my brain went off on that -- oh! I can take a photo of that, and then the box, and then me opening the box, and then me pulling out the books, and then the book on my bookshelf, and then I can put it all on my blog... on and on I went.

Then I thought about what Marta Stephens did and thought what a good idea it was: she had people take a photo of themselves holding her book(s) and then posted them (with permission) to her site! See Here at Marta's Site, and the photo I did to the left, teehee. So, I thought how much fun that could be if y'all who get a Tender Graces book could take a photo of yourselves with it and send it to me to post! Huh? Huh? what do you think? huh? boing boing boing boing boing boing!

Then I had a very detailed dream that I was in a nursing home - no, not as a resident, but visiting - or something. And I can clearly see these elderly women--the lives they led and the lives they lead. A few of them fell and I rushed to help them and felt their frustration and anger at how they couldn't do as they used to. Their hair was perfectly coifed, their make-up done beautifully, their clothing neat and as if to say "I am ready to go - -somewhere, anywhere..." It was an interesting dream, but I'm not sure what it meant.

So, on and on and on and on and on goes my brain - bam bam bam boing boing boing! My face is breaking out and I'm trying to stop that before Friday *laughing* I have bags under my eyes. I am excited and terrified! By time Friday comes, who knows what I will look like *haw!!!*

And all the books are on their way to the places and people who have ordered. God. Oh geez. Oh oh oh oh!!!! Yes, I am using the dreaded Exclamation Point!!!! -- laughing....

I have to say this. I know that not everyone who visits my blog or knows me or whatever's me will buy my book - or can buy it - or wants to buy it -- or whatever. No one has to explain or apologize for not purchasing my book - I mean that. Join in on the conversation and excitement and whatever all you wish to, buy a book if it moves you to, but never feel you have to explain to me or apologize because you aren't purchasing TG....I mean that from the bottom of my heart. I love you for supporting in any way you feel moved: by coming by here and visiting, by sending me best wishes, by cheering me on -- it all means so much to me, whatever it is! Okay, that's said - now...................

BOING BOING BOING BOING BOING BOING!!!!!!!

image: google image www.irishabroad.com

Exit light, enter night...off to where-ever-land

I don't know why this Mongoose cartoon made me laugh so much, but it did! teeheehee

Friends, your books should soon be on their way. It's about that time, yes. I will get an exact date, but from what I understand, they will begin to ship next week; I think early next week. If you wanted one with a signed bookplate, be sure that you marked that -- if you get one that doesn't have one, I'll be happy to send you one if you email me (unless it's not too late to let BB know you want a signed copy). I tried to make the bookplates as special as I could.

I can't wait to get mine. I can't wait to hold one in my hands. I will smell the pages. I will put it on my bookshelf and step back and see how it looks and then take a photo of it. Oh, I hope I am never jaded and blaise about this!

I had the strangest dreams last night. I suppose they are "stress dreams." Anxiety. Along with all my happiness and excitement, I do have the anxiety -- it's all a big swirley mess in my pea-headed brain. One of my dreams was about this strange place I came upon. It was a community of what I thought were an isolated strange people. But, when I came close to the community, which turned out to be only indoors, never outdoors, I noticed the eyes of the "people" -- they were black and spacy. Seems some "mad scientist" type had made these people - grown them - or something - and there were a good many of them. It was creepy. What did he have planned with them, I don't know because the dream slid into something else (and if I were someone who wrote thrillers or supernatural books, this dream would facilitate a creepy creepy book)...

...the dream morphed into where I was in a house and there was a man who hated us (me and whomever else was with me)....he wanted to harm us....there was an explosion in one of the rooms of the house (and it is said that houses in dreams are representations of our minds?)- we got out in time, but then I walked back into the room where the explosion occurred and there was a HUGE statue that seemed made of dark dark wood and in the arms of this dark dark wood statue was an infant...and then the statue began cracking open some, the arms that held the infant became more human than wood, and the statue opened its arms out to give the child back to us -- it had protected the infant from harm and it was the most beautiful thing - so beautiful. I can see the statue so clearly this morning: a broad dark face, with a broad nose, strong features, strong arms, a solid body - female.

Strange strange dreams. I've always had vivid dreams, since I was a child - and I even remember some of my childhood dreams (the more terrifying ones). I was plagued with nightmares from childhood until we moved to these mountains....then suddenly, when we moved here, the nightmares pretty much stopped -isn't that something? Every so often I'll have a bad dream, but mostly when I'm really stressed or worried or something that facilitates it. The mountain cove has been magical for me - healing. My dreams are still vivid at times, but more gentle to me. So last night must be worry stress dreams!

Thing is, I'm filled with gratitude and happy feelings for my Dream of this novel coming to life in the pages of a book. I know my anxious thoughts are those where I heap expectation on myself to be "successful" - to not let anyone down - to be "perfect" - and no one can be all these things, not really - not in reality. But, I am like that - fall headlong into things with passion and then soon grow bored with them and the passion fades: EXCEPT!...except when it comes to literature, writing, books, and my writing life. That is the one area I have never grown bored with, the one where my passion flares hot and steady and true - my constant.

What about you? What did you dream last night, if you dreamed and remember it. Do you have "stress dreams?"

(PS - Update on TG orders - BB has said the books should start to be shipped out on Monday...so you all should start receiving them soon! Oh! I'm so nervous.....! but excited too!)

Take me home, or curving roads...to the place I belong! Mountain Mama; I am home....

Home. All the snow melted before I arrived and it has warmed up enough to open the door. The breeze blows the chimes and the creek rushes -- oh home on my mountain cove at Killian Knob!

Last night, our old fat raccoon came calling to the squirrel feeder. She was early --as very old people who go to cafeterias do. Oh, what am I saying? I am like an old country granny sometimes as I eat my dinner at 4'o'clock--while watching Golden Girls (when they are on).

I have so much to do, but last night I slept the sleep of one who is so exhausted they just drop down, drop far down, drop long way down, drop deep into the far reaches of nothingness of sleep. I know I dreamed at some point, but do not remember them. Far far far down I fell. Deep and heavy. I woke only two or three times. This morning when I woke, I was disoriented....where am I? What? Who? When? How? I rose from my bed, the morning sunshine slipping through the windows - and my legs were actually shaky. I blinked. I put on my robe and shuffled to splash my face with cold water. In the kitchen, I poured cup 1 of Deep Creek Blend. We later took a mountain walk to clear my head. It is still a bit swirly, but better.

I hope to get by to visit you today, but if you do not see me today, you will tomorrow. I thank you thank you for still coming by even though I have not been round your places -- please know it is only because of circumstance of the novel and travel and etc.....soon, I will have to work on the second novel draft (oh thank gawd it is partly written already!). What a problem to have though, right? *smiling* -- what a problem to have....ah.

Later my friends. Thank you to all you who have pre-ordered Tender Graces - *muwah* -- and thank you for all your kind words. and for visiting. and for commenting. For everything you do.

(And later I'll tell you some good news I have -- I'm rushing now. )

And I said to myself: what a wunnerful world, unless it stops spinning or the sky falls or the stars quit burning or the sun hits the moon or....

Osondu's Booksellers is sponsoring a Book Signing Party for TENDER GRACES at the bookstore on April 17th! How exciting. It'll be from 7-9pm and there will be champagne and food. The cut-off is fifty people. She has ordered enough books to accommodate that number. If you are in the Waynesville North Carolina area, call Margaret and reserve your spot! I'd love to see you there.

Now. This is where Kat Magendie begins to fray at the edges and starts blinking into the headlights and her stomach tumbles around like an old-timey ferris wheel gone mad. Because Kat starts worrying, "What if hardly anyone shows up? What if I'm standing in the bookstore trying to pretend it doesn't matter that only a couple of people show and there are all those books sitting there and the food congeals and the champagne un-bubblefies." Then, Kat will have to grab the champagne and upend it and pour it down her throat and glub it down and drown out her sorrows...oh geez.

This is just some of the terror of realizing your dream. But, even saying that makes me hit myself upside my pea-head: one thing I can't stand is whiney writers - not wine-y writers, those are okay - WHINE-Y writers! I mean, all the time I dealt with rejection and another writer realized his/her dream and if he/she whined about it? Well, that just made me mad! SHUT UP, I'd think - you are getting your book published...sheesh!

Okay, Picture It: You write the book; long hours alone and neglecting family and friends. You suffer rejection time after time. Finally, that glorious day comes and you find someone who loves your book and even says, "we are proud to publish this book..." Oh! Oh! The heavens clear, the skies blaze with sunlight and moonlight all at the same time, the birds start singing like on a Disney movie, all is right with the world! And, you live happily ever after, right? All worries gone, right?

Well, not for this old girl. Do NOT get me wrong: this is a wonderful problem to have. These are wonderful problems to have and I am grateful and I recognize this is HOT DANG YAY TIME; because these "problems and anxieties" mean I am realizing my dream of having You hold Tender Graces in your hands - I can't tell you what that means to me (I am trying to tell you, but words won't for a change - you'd have to see the sincerity in my eyes, feel the warmth radiating - the hope you will love Virginia Kate and all the others: Micah, Andy, Miss Darla, Bobby, Rebekha, Mrs. Mendel, Amy and Mr. Husband Campinelle, and even love Katie Ivene and Frederick, and love to hate mean old Aunt Ruby, and despise Uncle Ar-vile. The thought of all those hands holding the weight of my words overcomes me ...truly...the gratitude is realized upon awaking and before sleeping and all in between - know that.)

So, the Dream is arriving, or has arrived, but all those anxieties slip in under the skin and slide around anyway, because that's what they do, that's their job!

You may remember this one: What if I only sell four books -- well that one was proved wrong! Bellebooks said that pre-orders are coming in DAILY! They are happy and that makes me happy! SO THANK YOU ALL; If I could send individual thanks, I would - believe me. So, I can lay that particular anxiety aside for now -- I've sold more than four books. I won't EVEN start thinking: "Hmmmm, NYT bestseller list? ...hmmmm, what about....." nope not going there.

What if no one comes to my first booksigning party?

What if no one comes to any of my booksignings - and how many should I do? and are booksignings really even done anymore? and where should I have them? and should I do "virtual blog tours?" and etcetera etcetera etcetera

What if I get a bad review?:::What if no one else reviews it?

What if there is a HUGE error in the book I didn't find?

What if the sky should fall? what if the earth should stop turning? what if a big black hole should suck me up and I'm lost forever and my molecules are ripped apart and a gamillion pieces of me rain down on the earth and no one even notices it is a gamillion pieces of me raining down and I soak into the earth and weird flowers come up with my pea-head on them (um, what? okay, Kat, take deeeeep breaths - go do some yoga girl; you're losing it....teeheeheehee).

What I'm trying to say in my weird way is: Dreams coming true are wonderful, but full of their own stresses -- good stresses, "bad" stresses....If you are like me, you begin to attach THINGS to yourself that perhaps you should not. I should instead go back to the original feeling of accomplishment that I'd written a novel, and then that feeling when BelleBooks said, "we want to publish Tender Graces...." and then the wonderful feeling of my friends and family (my blog friends and family included) telling me how happy and proud of me they are: that's the thing right there -- that, and the original feeling of YOU holding my book in your hands and loving the language, the words, the characters....ahhhh, now I feel much much better. Deep Breath: done.

I always want to say "writers are weird" but I realize it's probably just Me that is weird and the writer part is only the excuse I use for my eccentricities....haw!

*MUWAH* .... (now, on to work on The Rose & Thorn newsletter that I've been neglecting and is due to go out soon! It will distract me from my weirdness for a while....haw! Here's where you can sign up for the newsletter. And, I need to do a review for Kerry Madden's Maggie Valley Trilogy. And I want to visit you all again. And what else....la la la la tee dah! I really do love my life! *BIG FAT GRIN*)

Mr. Sandman, send me a... scream?..la la la la...

I can’t sleep.

Of course, whenever we say, “I didn’t sleep a wink last night,” it’s not really the entire truth. We sleep, here and there. But here and there isn’t enough. And didn’t I say in a post below that when a 51 year old woman doesn’t sleep, it shows? And when she doesn’t sleep enough for days and days, it really really shows? You should see me in the mornings—no, I take that back, you should not. The boy-short hair standing on end, the wild fatigued eyes, et cetera et cetera et cetera.

Last night I was filled with anxiety and that anxiety got on my last nerve. I fussed at myself, like this, “I simply can not BE-LIEVE you are anxious! This should be one of the best times of your life! Come on! You got what you wanted, right?”

But, the anxiety shimmered over me like some weirdling fog. That hovering mist of apprehension was so thick; my husband felt it when he walked into the bedroom. I lay on my back, legs stuck out straight, my arms folded over my stomach—hands clenched—my eyes open and staring into the dark. I radiated worry.

I had to take deep breaths. I had to remind myself of gratitude. For it’s hard to feel worried and anxious when you are listing the things that make you thankful. But anxiety is a stubborn ole mulish thing.

I know what my problem is. It’s the “I need to please everyone and I need to make sure I do this perfectly and I need to be the best and the most best and the bestest of the best and nothing else will do and I need to make sure I don’t stumble (even though that’s what people do, stumble sometimes) and I need not to mess this up and I need to be over HERE instead of over THERE because over THERE is just a bit better than over HERE even though HERE was perfectly fine a couple of days ago.”

No wonder the fog wets the room, hangs there. Heavy.

I toss and turn. I think of things I should be doing, could be doing, would be doing if I weren’t lying in bed.

When sleep came, I dreamt of giant dinosaurs and we had to run and hide from them in a big building. This is a recurring dream – it must be a childhood anxiety dream, for variations of it haunt me from time to time. Not so bad in the bigger scheme of nightmares I’ve had, for when I awake, I usually laugh at the B-movie-ness of those dinosaur/monster dreams; however, while having them they are quite “real” – the feeling of “I must get away from the monster! I must run in this building and the monster is right behind me and oh oh oh hurry hurry – the doorknob to the building is right there – will I reach it in time—oh oh, the monster is gaining….OH OH OH – I reach the door with my back tingling not knowing if the monster is about to tear into my flesh, throw open the door, run inside, and then I run run run up stairs or in an elevator, and hope the monster can’t get me. Pant Pant Pant Pant."

When a dream comes to fruition, it is the most glorious thing of all. But, if you are crazy insane as I am, then you begin to attach fears to the dream. You being to Worry. You begin to forget the excitement and start thinking about ways you could mess up the dream.

So, tonight, if this happens again, I will think of the gratitude part. However, I’m open to suggestions – ways I can stop the thoughts tumbling around in my head like some mad crazy out of control clothes dryer- a dryer that has suddenly come alive! It’s eaten my clothes and is tumbling them into a massed mess– and the dryer has teeth! And it’s going to tear up all the clothes- and me, too – oh oh oh! The dryer is coming for me! Oh! Help!

Lawd.