I won’t lie. Yesterday sucked. It was one of those days where you feel like life whips out a bat and bashes you repeatedly in the face for no apparent reason. You’re standing there screaming, “Stop! Wait! What did I dooooooo????” And life shows no mercy. The sucker just keeps having at you, man. To top it all off, I lost my new, very expensive glasses and was stumbling around half blind, thinking blurry thorn bushes were cats and trying to pet them.
In desperation, I called my poor friend Polyxeni, whose job description of late seems to be “scraping Tawni off the floor.” She talked me down from “hysterical” to “semi-hysterical” before we hung up. Then I had a “you’d better do something, I’m fucking dying here” conversation with God as I was falling asleep (my best prayers seem to be the most irreverent, I suppose because they are honest) and fell asleep sobbing, feeling hopeless and cranky and generally gobsmacked.
I had a “bad day” hangover when I woke up this morning. My head hurt, and my eyes were puffy, and I didn’t want to get up, but I had to because I had to teach. I was sulky and unenthusiastic as I got ready for my day, but as I was walking across campus (I’m teaching at Lehigh University this month) toward breakfast, one of my students saw me. She was carrying my first book, Beauty of the Broken, and she yelled across the street, “I love this so much! It’s amazing! I can’t stop reading it!” Which perked me up a little. Then I had French toast and coffee, and things got even better. (As a side note, if you aren’t the kind of person who masks her pain with butter, syrup, and copious quantities of caffeine, I’m not sure I want to know you.) And then, I started teaching, and my students are kinda kick ass, so I felt a bit better again.
After I worked through some exercises with my class, I gave them a writing assignment and checked my email because I’d be damned if I was going to do anything work-related at just that moment. (Sorry, work. I was grumpy.) I had a letter from my editor at Sourcebooks. It said all kinds of nice things, telling me how the design team at Sourcebooks was in love with my new novel, and that she thought it was really commercially viable, and she was going to be sending editorial notes later this week.
But this—this, boys and girls—was the kicker. She sent me the cover design for my new novel, The Long Ride Home, which will be released in Summer 2017. I made a little involuntary squealy noise and almost burst into tears because I loved it so much. My class was somewhat startled by my sudden outpouring of strange noises, so I let them in on the secret, and they loved the cover as much as I do.
Here it is, kids. My third-born literary love child. I am so not sad anymore. I sat in my chair all day, staring at my book cover, thinking what I would have given five years ago to be sitting in front of a classroom at Lehigh University besotted with the cover of my third book. Why was I such a brat yesterday? I am living the life of my dreams!
And P.S. I just called the pub where I ate lunch yesterday. The have my glasses. Score!