Why Buy the Cow?

My proof copy of my book arrived in the mail yesterday. I found it on my kitchen island when I returned home from work around 8:30 last night, in a most undignified place (at the bottom pf the pile of mail). I picked it up and said to my husband (who was standing at the sink with his back to me):

Me: Do you know what this is?

Bill: A book?

Me: Not a book…the book.

Bill: {Blank stare}

Me: My book.

Bill: OooooooooooOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh; your book.

Then he turned his attention back to whatever he was doing in the sink.

I started to tear open the cardboard encasing it when a thought stopped me mid-tear.

I worked on this book for about 2 years. It was now about 9pm, I was tired, my husband was distracted…I was not giving my book the respect that it deserved. I stopped.

I’m going to wait until I have an uninterrupted block of time. I’m going to open the package slowly and savor the moment, fully aware that I am about to hold the first book that I wrote myself in my hands.

I can’t wait.


6 thoughts on “Why Buy the Cow?

    1. Well…restraint mixed with with a little bit of feeling overhwelmed. I have since opened it, however. Now I’m gearing up to fix the formatting and get rid of the typos.

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