The Blog Mansion is quiet today. No guests, no interviews. No goblin masquerade. I cancelled it. My collection of edible picture frames lie uneaten, the ferret ranch is strangely quiet. I sit here in one of my many studies, contemplating the coming days and the release of Eleanor, my beloved Eleanor, upon the world.
This Saturday is the official-release of ELEANOR, THE UNSEEN. I’ll be at the Sugarhouse Barnes & Noble, from 12:-00-3:00 signing books, reading excerpts and living the dream.
Here’s the flyer. Feel free to download it, print it and hand it out on street corners to passersby.
I’ve never had a book launch before. Never had a signing just for me. Never had a book in Barnes & Noble before. All big steps and all very exciting.
But now, before the thrill overtakes me, I’m contemplative. I’ve been thinking a lot about Eleanor lately. Dreaming of her, talking to her, thinking she’s in the next room like one of my children, just out of sight, but can hear me.
Eleanor is a strange deeply personal parable of growing up. It’s about an outsider. It’s about appearances and prejudice. It’s about loss, survival and family. It’s about wealth in penury, love in tragedy, hope in fear.
I’d like to claim credit for it, for ELEANOR and the entire UNSEEN series, but ultimately, I have to admit that it was Eleanor who wrote the story. I just recorded events.
She is lovely and wondrous, flawed and vulnerable. She is strong. She is alive. And three days before I let her go, send her into the world unaccompanied, I feel a strange nostalgia, not unlike I did when my son graduated.
She’s out of my hands now, has been I guess for a while, but now, today at The Blog Mansion, I am coming to terms with it.
I know she will have a happy meaningful life. Not unlike my biological kids, Eleanor will carry the best parts of me forward. It’s sobering and wonderful and deserves a moment of reflection.
See you Saturday. See you next week.