So it has been a couple of weeks since my book was released and things have gotten kinda crazy. Crazy in a good way, mostly. I’ve been getting so much support from the online writing community and from my friends and family around here. Big thanks to all of you!
I’ve also been working on promoting my book, no easy feat since I’ve never done it before. If you’d like to help, leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads would be amazing! Reviews really help my book.
I also received print copies of my book in the mail recently and it was so rewarding. To really hold my own book and read its words on cream-colored paper. A note to all unpublished writers: holding your book is everything you hope it will be. I’m not going to lie, I cried when I opened the box with my books.
It was also fun to show my siblings the dedication I wrote in the book. I dedicated Honey Butter to them, but I’d wanted to keep it a secret until I got the printed copies. My plan worked. 🙂
On a completely different note, I have a poem to share with you! You’ve probably heard about the eclipse that happened, maybe you even got to experience it. I hope you did, it was other-worldly.
In case you didn’t, though, I wrote the following poem about my experience. My family drove to a place where we could see a full two minutes and forty seconds of totality. It felt way shorter than that though. I hope you enjoy it!
First, the color drains from the world…
The sky has a pallid gray tint,
As if a lens has been put between us.
The heat of the day evaporates silently,
New air, thin and cool,
takes its place; breezing over us.
Each blade of grass is shaded a brilliant neon.
Excited tension emanates from the watching figures.
They know that every passing second could be the one that sends them into the unknown awaiting experience.
And then it does.
Suddenly and silently the shadows fall,
They pool on the ground
And run into each other
And join together as patches in the blanket of night illusion.
“Look up!” someone says,
and I do.
Almost expecting to see the half-covered yellow dot
In the dark sea
That I’ve seen through my paper glasses.
Like a computer-generated image,
Just a two-dimensional dot on a black screen.
Is so different,
Exploding into every dimension.
So much like a fantasy or a dream that it has to be real.
A shining band blazes around a jet-black circle.
A fiery, sunset-like crown encircles the horizon in every direction.
Shadows ripple on the ground like the light coming through blinds.
I look into the sky and stare and stare as hard as I can,
Holding onto each moment of the phenomenon around me.
Clasping the world in its strange twilight zone,
as bright as the night of the harvest moon.
In the distance, I hear people shout,
And I’m trying to take a breath of the sky,
I’m trying to drink the shadow of the moon and the fire of the sun.
And that’s when the world starts to shift.
Like a drop of food coloring blooming its shades into a glass of clear water; the darkness recedes and day returns.
It’s as if the sun has blinked, for only a moment.
And the process reverses.
I wonder if this is how time travel feels.
And then it’s as if my mind is eclipsed,
As it tries to hold on to the wonder it experienced,
Just until I can find a pen.
docendo disco, scribendo cogito,
– Millie Florence