Now bear in mind, this was only a week or so back.

We went to our annual Christmas party, at Club Medic*. The same one we’ve been attending since at least…god, the kids were little ‘uns. Now this is just your normal dinner party kind of deal, with a gathering of pretty much my normal crew of college buds. I’ve known most of these folks for thirty years now. Bruce was my best man, you get the picture.

(My Egg McMuffin is getting cold, pause one moment for nomnoms.)

This year, I had a new book to show off. But Annie got there first and some spoilage happened… Wasn’t quite as much fun to sneak in my surprise. But anybody that bothered with Facebook wasn’t gonna be surprised anyway…so forgiven!

It was…kind of surreal, embarrassing even. These are all pretty literate folks, but most importantly I’ve been sharing awful jokes with them for decades. And I’ve just got this tiny little thing to show off, not the Great American Novel or anything…

If you’re holding back a little announcement to spring on somebody, ‘family’ is probably the hardest. And this group is basically family.

But that was just one tiny little part of the party, oh by the way, I’m published…ooh, ahh…time for another drink. Life continued, as usual, and things (blessedly) got back to normal. Food and bad jokes, presents and dishes to clean up.

Maybe next year I’ll have more book(s) to wave around. But whatev, what’s for dinner?

Next morning I wrote that “hell is paved with the hubris of writers” story. Cause we’re just awful people, and need to (often!) be reminded “it’s not all about you, hoser.”


*a.k.a. “Bruce and Jody’s Place”

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Tell us about your first day at something — your first day of school, first day of work, first day living on your own, first day blogging, first day as a parent, whatever.

Bad Fiction Spoken Here

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