So it’s nearly here.
Eighteen days, more or less, until The Copper Promise is released into the wild.
That’s the funny thing about publishing that you don’t necessarily realise from the outside; everything happens incrementally, so that you gradually get used to the reality of being published. Here’s your first edit, here’s your email about cover designs, here’s the enormous fat wad of paper you need to mark up with red pen, here’s the proof copy of your book… It’s all amazing, and it gradually gets you used to the fact that this is actually happening. Your book is going to be a real thing.
And then it does happen and WHAM* you’re not as prepared as you thought you were.
On Saturday I received a copy of the finished book. Let me tell you, it is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And it’s huge. I would like to take it back in time and show it to seven year old me, who is patiently plonking out stories about pirates and unicorns on her new typewriter. “Look at this book you will one day write!” I will say. “Look at the bloody size of it! It’s bigger than your head! It’s probably heavier than you!”
I also now have details of the signing event I’ll be doing for the book’s launch at Forbidden Planet in London (please do come along, I will draw a dragon in your copy and everything). While I am hopping about through time, I would pause in the Forbidden Planet of 1993 and seek twelve year old me in the X-Files t-shirt hanging about awkwardly by the comics and I would say, “Hey you, you’ll sign a book here when you’re older. And look at the size of it! Also, don’t drink that bottle of pre-mixed cocktail the day before your History A-level exam, okay? Just don’t.”
It’s all pretty extraordinary, really.
*damn you Wham and your 80s pop classics!