by LS Harteveld
This is not how I pictured it.
I have no books for you.
It’s the eighth of the eighth and contrary to what I promised there are NO BOOKS.
Which in itself doesn’t really surprise me because for the past eight years (if I use the number eight one more time shoot me) I ve failed meeting every self-imposed deadline to publish any of the eight (oh shoot!) books of my debut series The Wait Worth 8 (that was a number, doesn’t count)
And this is the good news.
This time? For the first time in eight (I don’t care what you do to me!) years I DID PUBLISH!
Right now, as we talk, test copies of my debut series the Wait Worth 8, are being published. Most likely in France. I wanted to say “the South of France” but that’s an embellishment. I don’t remember where, in France.
But YES! The eight are on their way.
And I ve even added a little guide,
De Witte Tijgerin, Gids voor solitaire vrouwen die een geweldig seksleven willen en plenty energy.
So the debut eight plus a mini book, are FIRMLY on their way.
And NO WAY did I foresee that!
I thought there was still a chance I d fail. But it’s done. The Wait Worth 8 are a done deal.
If you’re interested in juicy background stories and a discount on your order please sign up for my private list okay?
When I know more, you know more, promise.
Last Thursday, happy to have gotten the job done, I posted to several media that I was “exuberant” the copies were ordered. This was no lie. I was ECSTATIC that all books were copy-edited a hundred times (some only four times, but I decided that would just have to do), that their slick lay-out was checked thoroughly, page-by-page, and that they were all pdf-ed, uploaded, ISBNed, and click-to-buy-ed.
The only think left is that I have to switch one button, from private book to public.
Which I will do as soon as I ve seen the copies.
But the funniest thing was:
It wasn’t until after I posted my “I am EXUBERANT” post to Facebook, Twitter and Linkedin, that I realized exuberant is not a word. Or it’s a word, but it can’t be used like that.
But there’s a reason I m using it wrongly.
Because using exuberant, in the non-existing meaning of “extremely happy”, has been in my vocabulary since I was sixteen.
I was on summer camp, in England, to learn the language.
Now I give zero points, for the effect the course itself had on my English, but I did get to know a friend (who abandoned me ten years later, I think because I started asking too intrusive questions about his sexual orientation) who was incredibly funny. I laughed my abs to pulp on a daily basis.
One of the many things he had fun with was the word exuberant.
He really tasted it in his mouth, and checked with his host family if it was really, absolutely, unforgivably, incorrect to say; “I m exuberant”. Because to him it sounded so spot on. And when they said it couldn’t be used that way, he of course weaved it into his conversation any chance he had.
So when that day came, eight years after the first book Mango had been finished, that I finished it for real? Together with its seven sequels? There was really only one way to express my overwhelming feelings of joy.
“I m exuberant.”
An unexamined life is not worth living
And the most candid conversations are reserved for my private list.
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