I am great at multi-tasking. In my mind, Super Woman has nothing on me. So after I sold my first book, I ordered pens and bookmarks, designed brochures, launched a website. Articles are good promo, so I queried RWR. Bingo! Article scheduled. Placed an ad in RT. Sent out promo packets to readers’ groups and bookstores, but I couldn’t just stick a bunch of bookmarks in an envelope and call it good. Heaven forbid! They had to have a personal touch. So I signed each bookmark I sent. Every. Single. Bookmark. Five thousand of them. Then line edits for Warrior needed done. And a full synopsis of Book Two for my editor. Hey, I needed to finish that book, while I was at it. And I needed to write that RWR piece. Reviews are coming in—all good. No sweat. Clean the house, kiss the hubby, pat the dogs, fall into bed. Repeat ad nauseam.

Then March, the month THE WARRIOR was released, rolled around. Deadline for RWR met (by the skin of my…uh, teeth), I worked on Book Two between a schedule of 2-3 signings, conferences, and speaking engagements every week. To say that I was booked would have been a teensy bit of an understatement. Super Woman was starting to get very, very tired.

“Tired? I can’t be tired, I’m a published author! This is my dream, full steam ahead, balls to the wall. Anyway, I have to finish Book Two. It’s gotta be great. Stunning. Way better than Warrior. I can do this. No problem. Lots of time.”

Then, on March 14th, I found out I was pregnant. Surprise, Super Woman. Guess why you were so tired?

“Pregnant? I can’t be pregnant, I’m a published author! This is my dream—” You get the picture.

And now it’s June. Book Two is in NY with my editor. All deadlines are met, promo (for the most part) for Warrior is over, articles are history, interviews now dated. The months between January and May are a complete blur to me. Honestly, most of the time during that period, I could not have told you what day of the week it was. I met so many fantastic authors and readers, but could probably only tell you ten of their names. Bottom line? I really, really regret not being able to enjoy the process of my first book more fully.

Would I do it all again? Hell yes. I’m a published author, this is my dream. But for the next book it will only be half-steam ahead, ball to the wall. You’ll see me around, smiling, relaxed and—gasp!—enjoying myself. I’ll probably know what day of the week it is, and I will really try to remember your name.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, Super Woman has Book Three to write and a date with a big bowl of ice cream. And probably some pizza, too.