July 7, 2008
I’m not one for checking the mailbox out front. It’s not that I don’t care, I just forget. When I lived alone, I’d occasionally go out to find the box stuffed with a few day’s worth of magazines, junk mail and (hopefully not) too many bills. My husband, on the other hand, can hear the mail truck coming from a block away. He loves getting the mail, which works out quite well for both of us.
Fast forward to today, when I’m (predictably) running five minutes late to pick up our daughter from a friend’s house:
Me: (tossing my purse into the Jeep): Late, late, late…
My husband (at the mailbox): Hey, your editor sent you a book…it’s the book.
Me: Well, since I’m already late…
My editor had sent me one of the first copies of The Accidental Demon Slayer – hot off the press. The book looks fantastic – bright cover, silver lettering on the title. It’s a kick to know this is the one that will be in stores in a week or two. I just wish I didn’t have to rush off. But hey, that’s life. Besides, there’s nothing like inspecting that first book at every stop light.
And you know what? At least it made it out of the mailbox.