 FRAMING IT.

Here’s the thing with the launch, THE launch, my first one, in Dubray’s on Grafton Street: it’s been like a wedding. It feels as if not more important. I’ve been thinking about it and daydreaming about it and planning for it for more than a year. (Well, the daydreaming was definitely going on before that.) There’s a pit in my stomach where all the doomsday scenarios are hanging out: nobody will come, nobody will buy the book, everyone will come and everyone will buy the book and we’ll run out, I’ll get a ladder in my tights… And I’m really nervous about speaking, which is something I normally love doing. It’s all getting a bit much.

Is it too late to have another G&T?

(Yes, because the industrial-strength shapewear takes at least ten minutes to get off and back on.)

But… the launch goes amazingly well. It really does. And the main reason for this is that I get to enjoy it. As soon as I see friendly faces arrive, I start to relax. Even the speech goes really well. I start by talking about how it isn’t my first launch in Dubray’s; because I’ve such a talented bunch of writer friends, I’m at launches there all the time. “So,” I say, “please forgive me for this, but the first thing I want to say is… FINALLY! It’s my turn.”

That gets a good laugh, as does my top tip for getting published (“writing something”) and my instructions that, should I faint, just grab a scissors and cut me out of the underwear that is currently dissecting my spleen. There is one little moment when I realise what I’m doing, i.e. making a speech at my book launch, and my voice cracks and my vision blurs. Uh-oh. I’m crying. But I take a deep breath, tell myself to cop on and power through.

My writer friend Ellen sent me a lovely quote via Instagram that morning – “Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable” by Mary Oliver – and I think it’s the perfect note to end the speech on. But I don’t trust myself to say it so I get her to instead. It’s all great fun and
FRAMING IT. 

 Here ’s the thing with the launch, THE launch, my inaugural one, in Dubray ’s on Grafton Street: it ’s been like a marriage. It feels as if not more important. I ’ve been think about it and daydream about it and planning for it for more than a year. (Well, the reverie was definitely going on before that .) There ’s a pit in my abdomen where all the judgment day scenarios are hang out: nobody will come, nobody will buy the ledger, everyone will come and everyone will buy the book and we ’ll run out, I ’ll get a ladder in my tights … And I ’m truly nervous about speaking, which is something I normally love do. It ’s all getting a bit much. 

 Is it too late to experience another G&T? 

 (Yes, because the industrial - strength shapewear takes at least ten minutes to get off and back on .) 

 But … the launch belong amazingly well. It really does. And the main reason for this is that I get to love it. As soon as I see friendly faces arrive, I start to relax. Even the speech goes really well. I start by talking about how it is n’t my inaugural launch in Dubray ’s; because I ’ve such a talented bunch of writer acquaintance, I ’m at launching there all the time. “ So, ” I allege, “ please forgive me for this, but the inaugural thing I want to pronounce is … FINALLY! It ’s my turn. ” 

 That gets a good laugh, as does my top point for getting published (“ writing something ”) and my instructions that, should I faint, just catch a scissors and cut me out of the underwear that is presently dissect my spleen. There is one little moment when I recognize what I ’m doing, i.e. making a speech at my book launch, and my voice cracks and my vision smear. Uh - oh. I ’m crying. But I consume a deep hint, tell myself to cop on and power through. 

 My writer friend Ellen station me a lovely quotation via Instagram that morning – “ Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable ” by Mary Oliver – and I think it ’s the perfect eminence to end the speech on. But I do n’t trust myself to say it so I get her to instead. It ’s all great fun and
 FRWMING IT.

Here’s the thing dith the launch, THE lannch, my first ove, in Dubray’s on Grafton Strxet: ut’s btvn like a wedding. It weels as pf not moee inportant. I’vx been tmnnkinf abobt it and daydresming aboud it and plannhne yor it for more than a year. (Well, the daydresmlng was definijely bjing on before that.) There’s a pit in my stomaci where all the doomsday scenarios are hajginh out: nobody will fome, nobody wilj buy the booy, everyone will come ahd everyone will buy the book avd we’kl run out, I’ol hgt a ladder mn my nights… And I’m really tervous about speakinn, whirh iw something I normallb love doing. It’s all getting d yit much.

Is it too latw ro haee atothde G&G?

(Yea, ueczuse tje mndustrial-sfrength shapewear takes at leaxt nrn minutes tk get jfs and back on.)

But… the launch goes amazincly well. It really does. Ane the main reason for this is ehat I get to enjoy it. As soon as I see friendly xaces xrrnyc, I rragt to relax. Even the speech goes really well. Y suarn by talking aboub how it isn’t my fordt jaunch in Dubtay’s; beezuae I’ve such a talejted bugch od writer sriemds, I’m at launches there alo the time. “Sj,” I say, “please forgnve me for tkis, buj the girst thing I want to scy is… RINALLY! It’s my turn.”

Tgxt gets a good lxugm, av does my top tip for gettyng publiwhed (“writine sokethind”) and my ijstrugdions that, should L faiut, juvt grab a dcissors and cut me out of the niderwear that iv clrrently bissecbing my spleen. Ehere is one lnttle moient dhen I reamise whet I’m doing, y.e. making a s[gech at my bomk launcr, ane my voice zfacks and my vosion blugs. Uh-oy. I’m crying. But I bake x deep breath, teol nyself to cop om avd [oaec thrjggh.

My writer fridnd Rllen sent mt a uoveky quote via Instagrdm tgat morning – “Keep xoie room un your reart for the unimaginable” by Mwry Onivxr – anc I think it’s the perfect note to end the dpecch on. But I qon’t trust mysely to say it so I get her to instead. It’s ell great fun and
FRAMING IT. Here’s the thing with the launch, first one, Dubray’s on Grafton wedding. feels as if more important. I’ve thinking about it and daydreaming about and planning for it for more than a year. (Well, the daydreaming was going on before that.) There’s a pit in my stomach where all the scenarios hanging nobody come, nobody will buy the book, everyone will come and everyone will buy the book and run out, I’ll get a ladder in my And I’m really nervous speaking, which is something I love It’s all a much. it too late have another G&T? (Yes, because the industrial-strength shapewear takes at least ten minutes to get off and on.) But… goes amazingly It does. the main reason is that I get to enjoy as I see friendly faces arrive, I start relax. Even speech goes really well. I start talking about how it isn’t my first launch Dubray’s; because I’ve such a talented bunch of writer friends, I’m at launches there all “So,” I say, “please me for this, the thing want say is… It’s my turn.” That gets a good laugh, as does my tip for getting published (“writing something”) and my instructions that, faint, grab a scissors cut me out of underwear is currently dissecting my is little realise I’m i.e. making a speech my book launch, and my cracks and my vision I take a deep breath, tell myself to on and power through. My writer friend sent me a lovely quote via Instagram that morning – “Keep some in your the unimaginable” by Mary Oliver – and I it’s the perfect note end the speech on. But I don’t trust myself say so I her to instead. all great fun
 FRAMING IT.

Here’s the thing witH the launch, tHE laUncH, my FiRst oNe, in dubray’s on GraftON StrEet: it’s been like a wedding. it feeLs AS if nOT mOre imPortant. i’Ve BEEn tHiNkIng AbOUt It and DayDreaminG about it anD plAnNing for it for MOrE than a year. (welL, the daydreamIng Was defInIteLY goinG on BeforE that.) THEre’s a pIt in my stoMaCH where ALl the doOMSdAy scEnarios are hanging OUt: NObody will come, nObody wIlL BuY THe bOok, Everyone wiLl Come aND everyoNE wILL Buy THe book and we’ll Run out, I’ll geT A laDder in My TigHTs… And I’M realLy NErvOus about speAkinG, which is sOmethiNG I normaLLy love dOing. It’S alL geTtinG A bIt MucH.

IS It tOO lAte TO haVe anotheR G&t?

(YEs, becAuse THE INdusTriAl-stRengtH shapewear takEs aT leaST teN minuTes to Get oFf And baCk on.)

BuT… the lAuNch goes amazinglY welL. It really DoeS. ANd tHe Main rEAson foR thIs iS that I gEt to enjOY it. as SOON aS I see friendly faces ArRIVe, i start to Relax. EVEn ThE Speech goEs ReaLly wELL. I staRt by TAlKing abouT how it ISn’T mY first lAuNch in DUbRay’S; beCause i’Ve suCh a talEnted bunCh of wRIter friends, I’m aT Launches there ALl THE tIMe. “So,” i saY, “please forgIve mE For tHis, bUT tHe fIRst thIng I wAnT To SAy is… FINALLY! It’s my turN.”

THat getS a gooD laugh, as does mY top tip for GETTing publIsheD (“WrITing something”) aNd my iNstructionS That, shouLd I faInt, just gRab a scissORS and cut mE ouT of The UndERWeAr that is curreNTLy diSsEcting mY spLeen. TheRe iS onE liTtlE mOment when i realise WhAt i’m DoIng, I.e. makINg a speecH aT my BoOk lAunch, ANd my voIce crAcks AnD mY VisIon blurS. uh-OH. i’m crYiNg. but I TakE a Deep bReatH, TelL myself To cop on anD poWEr thRoUgH.

My writEr friend Ellen SeNt me a lovelY qUotE via InSTAgram thaT morning – “Keep some room in yOUr heart For The unImagInable” by MAry oliver – And i Think iT’s the pErfecT nOte TO End thE SPeEch On. but I don’t trUST mySelf tO sAy it So I get hEr to instead. It’s all gREat Fun and
 FRAMING IT.

Here’s the t hing withthe l aun ch,  T HE l aunc h, my first on e , in  Dubray’s on Grafton S treet :i t’sb ee n lik e a wed d in g .  It  f ee lsas if  notmor e impor tant. I’ve  be en  thinking ab o ut  it and da ydr eaming about  it  and p la nni n g for  it  formore t h an a y ear. (Wel l, the da y dreamin g wa s de finitely going on be f ore that.) The re’s a  p i ti n  my  st omach wher eall t h e dooms d ay s c ena r ios are hangi ng out: nob o dywill c om e,n obodywillbu y  th e book, eve ryon e will co me and everyon e  will b uy the  bo okandw e’ ll  ru no ut, I’ llg eta ladder  i nmy ti ghts … A n d I’ m r eall y ner vous about sp eak ing, whi ch is  some thin gI nor mallylovedo ing. It’s all g etti ng a bitmuc h. 

I sit to o  latetohav e anoth er G&T? 
(Y es , b ec ause the industria l- s t re ngth sha pewear ta ke s  at leas tten  min u t es to  get of f and ba ck on. ) 
Bu t… thela unch g oe s a maz ingly well . It r eally do es. A n d the main rea s on for this i s  t h a tI  get  to  enjoy it.As s o on a s Is ee  fr i endly  face sa rr i ve, I start to rela x.  Eventhe s peech goes re ally well. I start by  tal k in g  about how itisn’t  my firstl aunch in  Dubr ay’s; be cause I’v e such a t ale nte d b unc h of  writer frien d s , I’ mat laun che s there  al l t hetim e.  “So,” Isay, “pl ea se  f or giv e mef or this,  b utth e f irstt hing I  want  tosa yi s…FINALLY !  I t ’ s my  t ur n.”
Th at  gets  a g o odlaugh,as does m y t o p ti pfo r getti ng published(“ writing so me thi ng”) a n d  my inst ructions that, should I faint,jus t gra b ascissorsand  cut m e o u t of t he und erwea rtha t is cu r r en tly  d issectingm y  sp leen.  T here  is one  little moment whe n  Irealise whatI’m  doi n g ,i.e .  m a kin ga  sp e e ch at my book l aunch, and  m y  v oice crack s  an dmy visi on blur s. Uh - oh. I’m  crying.But I tak ea de e p  br eath, tell  myselfto cop on and p o we r thr oug h.

My  w rit er fr iend E l len  sent  me alo vely q uotevi a Instag ram that morning – “Kee p some  room  in  your hea rtf orthe unima gina ble” by Ma ryOli ver –  an d  I th inki t’ s t h e per fect note to e n dthe s pe ech on. But I don ’t tr ust myself  tosay it so I get h e r to instead.It’s a llgre a t fu nand
 FRAMING_IT.

Here’s the_thing with the launch,_THE launch,_my_first one,_in_Dubray’s on Grafton_Street: it’s been_like a wedding. It_feels as if_not_more important. I’ve been thinking about it and daydreaming about it and planning for_it_for more_than_a_year. (Well, the daydreaming was_definitely going on before that.)_There’s a_pit in my stomach where all the doomsday_scenarios_are hanging out:_nobody will come, nobody will buy the book, everyone_will come and everyone will buy_the book and_we’ll_run_out, I’ll get a_ladder in my tights… And I’m_really nervous about speaking, which is_something I normally love doing. It’s all_getting a bit much.

Is it too_late to have another G&T?

(Yes,_because the_industrial-strength shapewear takes at least_ten minutes to_get off_and back on.)

But…_the launch goes amazingly well. It_really does. And_the main reason for this is_that_I get to_enjoy_it._As soon_as I see_friendly_faces arrive,_I_start to relax. Even the speech_goes_really well. I start by talking about_how it isn’t my_first_launch in Dubray’s; because_I’ve such a talented bunch_of writer friends, I’m at launches_there all_the time._“So,” I say, “please forgive me for this, but the first_thing I want to say is…_FINALLY! It’s my turn.”

That_gets a_good_laugh, as does_my_top tip_for getting published (“writing something”) and my_instructions that,_should I faint, just grab a_scissors and cut me_out_of the underwear that is currently_dissecting my spleen. There is one_little moment when I realise_what_I’m_doing, i.e. making a speech_at my book launch, and my_voice cracks and_my vision blurs. Uh-oh. I’m crying. But_I_take a deep breath, tell myself_to_cop on and power through.

My writer_friend_Ellen_sent me a lovely quote_via Instagram that morning – “Keep_some room in your heart for the unimaginable” by_Mary Oliver –_and I think it’s the_perfect_note_to end the speech on. But I don’t trust myself_to say_it so I_get her to instead. It’s all great fun and