Aidan Donnelley Rowley · Writing & Getting Published Expert

Two weeks from today, my debut novel Life After Yes hits shelves. I tell you this because, yes, I have plunged into that filthy pool of shameless self-promotion. (Ick.) But I also tell you this because this incontrovertible fact, the close proximity of publication, is affecting me.

(Translation: I am a certifiable mess.)

People around me, people who care about me, keep saying some variation of the same thing: “Just let yourself enjoy this time. Soak it all up.” And when they say this, I smile an automatic smile, a packaged smile, and nod. And then I tell them I will. That I will try.

…

Last night, Husband and I attended a wonderful benefit in a glorious ballroom downtown. On Wall Street. During dinner, I sat between one of my very best friends – who is due soon with her first child – and another woman I know, but not very well. There were two no-shows at our table and, as a result, no one sat on the other side of this woman.

At one point during the evening, when my friend and I were deep in conversation about the most essential of baby items, the woman next to me started to cough. I stopped talking to my friend and asked the woman if she was okay. Others at my table did…

Forgive me, but I have conversation on the brain. It’s not a crime. But it might be an obsession.

While we were away in South Carolina for the holiday weekend, I had a little chat with Toddler that I can’t seem to get out of my mind. It was a tiny exchange, a sweet little Mommy-Daughter Moment. Looking back at it, that moment seems less simple than it did while I was experiencing it. That moment has me asking questions. (Shocker.)

Enough of the setup. Here’s what happened. Toddler and I were in our bedroom getting cleaned up for dinner. I got her dressed. She hung out as I got dressed. …

I am utterly exhausted. Physically. Emotionally. Existentially.

It is 5:37am. The house is quiet. I just poured my first cup of coffee. Outside, I hear machines plowing snow. Inside, I hear questions.

The plan was to tell you about some magical conversations I’ve had recently. But in my world, a plan made tends to become a plan broken. And, apparently, this is no exception. The conversation post will wait until tomorrow.

I veer from my agenda because this is a very-Aidan-like thing to do and because yesterday was a day that I cannot let go. It was a hard and beautiful and poetic day. …