What If?

Right before this year's Academy Awards ceremony we were talking with friends about the nominations.  I blurted out if I was ever nominated I couldn't go; it would be way out of my comfort zone.  Of course this was an absurd hypothetical.  Like watching Amazing Race, when contestants rush into a packed, stifling hot train, somewhere in India, and I say to Husband, "I'm not doing that," like we would anyway.

Our friends responded without skipping a beat, "When your book is made into a movie and it's nominated, we'll go with you."  My chest seized up and a wave of panic swept over me.

"What?  That's never going to happen and if it does, I'm not going."  Which got me to thinking about all the ramifications if  I were published.  I'd have speaking engagements, arranged by my publicist and fly around the country, maybe the world, where I would contract an awful bug, that I'd give to Jimmy Fallon, while booked on The Tonight Show and I'd likely have to go on the Today Show with Matt Lauer, where I would most definitely pass out.  Let's not kid ourselves, I'm chock full of anxieties.

I recently repeated this diatribe to Daughter and concluded if I am to finish the book and if it ever does get published, I would have to become one of those reclusive authors who never appears at award shows or book tours and I'd have to choose a pseudonym for my jacket cover.