The Curse of the Anit-Climactic Moment

It's real.

When I read the words, "The Wild Rose Press would like to offer you a contract for your manuscript, THE WEDDING WAR," I whooped, hollered and slapped my desk so hard my hand sang like a canary on crack. I have waited twenty years for this day to come. My one secret dream: to publish a novel. And I did it. Holy canoli, Batman. But, it just hasn't seemed real. Until I got a copy of my cover this week. My book, my suggestions, my name. I did it. I acheived my life's goal.

I'm so grateful to be working with The Wild Rose Press. They are a bunch of great people who treat their authors graciously. But, I realized this wasn't the first time I felt the Curse of Anti-Climactic Moment.

When my husband proposed, and I began the wedding preparations (think Bridezilla times a gagillion), I became weepy with joy as I visualized walking down the aisle, heading toward the love of my life. So many times throughout the nine-month engagement, I went on an emotional bender just thinking of it. But, when the day came, the tears didn't. And I thought, WTF? I felt cheated.

Same story when I became pregnant with my children. The idea of holding my very first baby brought on a maelstrom of emotion, but when the moment came, I felt strangely detached. Don't get me wrong, I still look back to that night, staring at her, so tiny, so beautiful, so mine, that the wonder holds me captive, six years later.

I think I'm an anticipation kind of gal. Love the work-up to the event/moment/whatever. So, I guess I kind of win in the beginning. I get the glory and happiness in my anticipation, rather than when I grab the gold medal.

Maybe when I'm on the New York Time's Best Seller List, it will finally hit me.

Or not.