Launched. Available. What’s left now? Promotion and marketing of course. But the main driver behind the book was not to sell. The driver was my son Fionn first, and me, the writer, second. Is it all I hoped it would be? Well, yes. I am pleased with the production, the printing, the overall look and feel of the book. The writing and storytelling? Well, hopefully not too bad. Certainly it is heartfelt. Don’t think anyone could argue there. Oprah hasn’t called. But I can live with that.
Are there things I would like to have added? Yes. It would have been nice to include a current photo of Fionn. The baby pictures are fun. But what does the man look like now? Gorgeous, of course. But, you don’t know that from the book.
Did I miss some anecdotes or additional advice? Yes, a few. And how funny is it that some of them were biblical? I wanted to include, somewhere: “Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.” “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” “Judge not, lest ye be judged.” And one from my dad that was often repeated to us: “There but for the grace of God go I.” And then there was the anecdote about how Fionn, at five, insisted I explain EXACTLY how babies were made, and I did. His reaction: A burst of laughter. And then, “No, really, mom. How?”
Could I have written more chapters? Maybe. But I followed my gut and ended it when it ended. Will there be a sequel? Highly unlikely and certainly no plans. But never say never, right?
Have the reactions been positive? Mostly yes. From some serious writers: “Erin Scullion is a wonderful storyteller whose loving bouquet to her son is a gift to us all.” “The essays, poems and letters are well written, touching, thoughtful and at times very funny.” And, “[Erin’s] keen wit, (often self-depreciating), quick brain and original turn of phrase make I Need You to Know an evocative love letter that her son will cherish.”
Thank you. Very much. All writers long for positive feedback on their work. (And anyone who says differently is lying.)
And some compliments from close relatives, “Not as bad as I thought it was going to be,” and “Nice looking book. The pictures are good too.”
Disappointing? Frankly, yes.
My mother’s eyesight is not good and she finds it hard to read now. I read parts of the book about her aloud. I had to yell because she’s also hard of hearing, so some of the magic was lost. But she did smile.
The book is no longer gnawing on my limited number of brain cells, which means extra space up there. I am enjoying it. There is more room for reading. Thinking. Playing. Relaxing. Of course, new ideas are bouncing around in the newly vacated space like rogue ping pong balls.
It won’t be long before one of them makes its nest. And the nurturing will begin anew.
Isn’t that what women do?