What I meant to say was June 10th. Yes, a typo, a simple harmless typo - not going beyond deadline again or anything. Definitely not me being neurotic or having an anxiety attack or second-guessing a (for the love of God) 4 a.m. Stephen-bloody-Hawking rant that somehow remains on the pages of my second novel (because, naturally, at this point, I am 'making a statement' and cannot take it out for fear of feeling like a sell-out). And on June 10, 2013, I certainly did not close my eyes like a coward & hit the 'publish' button on KDP mere moments before I stepped out the door for our annual family summer moutain trek. (Which led to a minor cover art size fiasco - being corrected right now - because that's what I get for closing my eyes and hiding for four days.)
If all of this sounds like gibberish, let me back up. Ever Evangeline is finally out, having been unleashed as of June 10th. Compared to this, letting the first novel go was relatively effortless and pain-free - a routine trip to the dentist, after which you leave riding a surprisingly pleasant wave of minty freshness. Releasing the second novel, however, is more like a trip to the slightly more panic-inducing dermatologist, which to some might sound better, but definitely isn't. I practically need sedation at this point in order to cope with the torture devices of modern dermatology.
(Pause while I take a few deep breaths into a paper bag.)
It's fine. Or it's going to be fine. Perfectly fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Nothing to worry about. What's done is done. Book's out of the bag. Read it and weep?
(Closing eyes & hitting blog 'publish' button in three... two... one)