
What is it about time that seems to slip away from us? Sunday evenings fly by while the Monday morning meetings seem to drag on forever as the second hand ticks loudly in the corner. As I prepare for my release the days seem to drag like I’m a five year-old waiting for Christmas. I keep thinking I should be doing more, but my blogs are in place for around the release day. All the connections just need to be loaded on my website following the update from my publisher. I even have the day off from work, although I’m not sure why.
In Boy Scouts I used to be the camping coordinator. And when I first got that task (I’d say job, but when you only get paid in little boy’s smiles…it’s a task not a job) I worked really hard and stressed myself out beyond reason afraid I’d be the one to ruin the camping trip. Guess what, I never did. The reason I never did was because camping, much like I hope the upcoming release of my book are like the movie Shakespeare in Love. As they see the guards at the gates to shut them down, the actors failing left and right and the sets collapsing it is asked how will this work. To which a simple reply of “I don’t know it’s a mystery.”
If we look at our over preparedness or lack of preparation both lead to the same thing. It simply works. So as I stress about what I should or should not be doing for the release of Chrysalis and then turning my focus to The Frozen releasing in July and prepping the rest of the book I look at Chrysalis and Oscar and Ellie’s annoyance with the fact that immortals are in no rush…even when planning on killing someone. The torture is half the fun.
In Chrysalis Oscar and Ellie know they’re going to get attacked. They know it could come at anytime. They know as they fall more and more in love with each other the demon that wants to attack them plots more devious plans.
As the room filled up, I noticed Oscar and his father really did stand out in this group. Most people in the room were white. But Oscar was accepted and so was I. No comments. If anything, I think some people were surprised I was so plain.
Michael was the master of ceremonies. I heard how many people’s lives Oscar had touched. The mayor of St. Paul was there as well as the leader of the Hmong Community Action Committee. Oscar even got a plaque from the governor. The ceremony was very moving.
An hour later we were eating and while we had cake, I slipped Oscar my present under the table. He opened it in front of everyone. The ring had the same stone as his class ring and was engraved inside. To the eagle who taught me to fly. I was glad his finger was so large the whole saying fit. He put it on immediately and kissed me in front of the whole room. There was thunderous applause and hooting. There was a little bit of football here. My face flushed and Oscar laughed at me.
"You know, I’ve got cake here. Don’t forget what happened last time," I said, thinking back to the icing war from my birthday.
"Remind me to bring some home," he whispered in my ear. Across the room I Michael was smiling at us.
The night wound down. It was another day with Oscar being told how wonderful he was, and him being gracious. I didn’t think I could’ve been that humble.
On the way home, Oscar and I sat in the backseat of his dad’s older SUV. I was learning to cherish these perfect days, because Kelly said the more of these I had the sooner I would be attacked.