Done. In.

The other day I raced from the office home to pick up my reading copy of Fallsy Downsies and put on some mascara. Then I whipped over to my publisher’s house to pick up him and a box of books, and set out for the Keshen Goodman Library to make a seven pm event. “How was your day?” Robbie asked.

“I feel like it was a little hectic,” I said, “but I don’t really know why.”

He nodded. Robbie has this way of letting your words just hang there till you hear them. Finally he said, “Is it because, you know, you’re kind of rushing around right now?”

Uh. Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is.

I have been Rushing Around Right Now for weeks, it seems. I’ve had all of five nights off this month. Here’s something I’ve discovered: that’s not enough nights. On the one hand, I love launching this book, taking it hither and yon, reading from it, meeting readers and booksellers and librarians and living that life. On the other hand, full time job that’s absurdly demanding.

I am a stuttering, stammering, rough-voiced shell of my former self.

But I couldn’t be happier, to be honest.

Fallsy Downsies is in the world, Lansing Meadows lives. Next week, I get to take him on tour, where he’s meant to be. We go up to Ontario and back in a week and a day. In mid-December, we hit Fredericton on December 14 and Wolfville on December 15. I am so grateful to those who have asked me to come read in their space, and those who have eagerly agreed to host me when Invisible has floated the idea.

My house is a mess — there are no fewer than three bouquets of dead flowers on the main floor alone — the laundry is undone, I eat dinner at 10pm not because I’m fancy but because that’s when I get home. I am exhausted, every minute of every day.

And I am so, so happy. Thank you.

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