The Dramatic Author Unboxing That Wasn’t 🤷

I had a vision: you know those videos where an author opens the first box of their books? The dramatic cutting of the tape, the slow lift of the lid, the wide grin after seeing their years-long process reach fruition?

Well, mine wasn’t like that.

Because Sometimes You Should Be Late is printed on demand, bookstore orders, including those from Bookshop.org, went out early…several weeks early! (Amazon copies are still set to arrive on July 7, so: a fun indie bookstore perk!)

I was as surprised as my friends were when I started receiving texts: “Look what arrived!”

Here I was thinking the release date was an Oscars or nuclear codes-like embargo. Instead: dozens of people got their hands on my book before I did. Yes: the first hard copy I ever saw was the one my friend Josh brought to a meditation group. And I wrote the dang book!

Meanwhile, the “author copies” I ordered were delayed because quality control noticed the shipment was 60 books short.

When they finally arrived, it wasn’t exactly a fairy tale either. The tracking link didn’t work, so while I was at lunch with my cousin’s son, I got a call saying the books had been delivered and were sitting outside. I told them I’d be home in a few hours.

But as I was finishing up at the restaurant, I saw that one of those classic DC summer thunderstorms was rolling in. So I raced home on my bike and frantically carried the heavy boxes into my storage unit before the storm.

And I didn’t even take a picture!

This muddling through is good practice because it won’t just be the shipping.

A couple cases in point: my friend Charles texted me about a typo in the book (!), and advance copies that should have gone to reviewers weeks ago still haven’t arrived.

And then I made the mistake of listening to a podcast about book launches that a fellow author sent me. The takeaway? The many things I “should” have done five months ago, like lining up influencers, creating a pre-sale campaign that “creates scarcity,” and so on.

But that same podcast also offered me this: your book launch doesn’t last a week; it really lasts two years.

That made me think of what my friend Rebecca told me the other day: “Remember: nobody cares about your book launch as much as you do.”

At first, there was a tiny sting: Aw, come on, people. This is my baby! But after that, perspective.

Of course, it’s not your be-all and end-all. But a perfect launch, whatever that means, doesn’t need to be mine, either. I can care deeply about this book I’m so proud of, but also hold my care for it a little more gently.

***

So for all the things in your life that didn’t go according to the fairy tale, can we let it be OK not to have a TikTok-style unboxing or perfect child’s first birthday party or flawless, zero-family stress beach vacation, and, instead, open up to muddling through?

Here’s what it was for me: plenty of photos from friends who received copies before I did. The joyful smiles of dear friends and their children/dogs. A friend I hadn’t spoken to in years picking it up from a local bookstore. My friend Arianne buying four copies: one for herself and three more to put in Little Free Libraries.

What a gift to have this support and love…pre-launch, no less. It’s almost like it’s a good thing, to have this jolt of energy in the final week or so before launch!

And this is what’s possible in this life too: seeing the upside in what happens and trusting the process, even when it’s messy, sweaty, and not exactly as you imagined.

Feel quite invited to comment or share or “pre”-order my book!

But what I’d like most is (1) to thank you for reading, that’s plenty and (2) for you to take a moment to reflect on what this muddling through may mean for you in your life. That’s why I write.