Dear “Friends”:
You may recall my post from three days ago, when I received news that made me “humbled.” You may recall this because ever since, I’ve been posting nonstop, including earlier today, moments ago, and just now. And just when you thought I’d said all there was to say on the matter, I’ve returned to announce, once again, how I’m feeling.
Don’t get me wrong. Everything I said before is true. I’m still humbled. In fact, I’m “incredibly” humbled. I’m “unspeakably” humbled. To be honest, I’m a little frightened of how humbled I am. Which is why I must share my news several times a day, and with all 12.9K of you: to show that, even in the wake of success, one can achieve an improbable amount of humility.
But humility can only take me so far. I must shout my news from the social-media rooftops. I must feel differently about the same thing. So I’m here to announce that I’m not just “humbled” anymore. I am now over the moon.
Friends, I didn’t get here overnight. When I first learned of my news, I was screaming. Then I was crying. Then, for some reason, I was vacuuming. You’re familiar with these early phases because each got its own post, plus photo.
After that came the realization that I was thrilled. Remember my “thrilled” phase? First I was “utterly” thrilled. Then I was “beyond” thrilled. Then I was just “thrilled.”
And let’s not forget the time I was speechless. During my speechless phase, I was like,
“. . .”
and then,
“(!)”
Of course, who can forget the time I posted a photo of me peeking out from behind my book? Wasn’t that fun? Talk about humility. If you don’t think I’m humble, let me ask you one thing. Was I in the foreground of that photo? No. I was in the background. Text: MY BOOK! Subtext: (me). It was like, Guys, I’m not even here. And then it was like, Oh, yeah—there I am.
Now you’re wondering: Is there simply no end to my humility? Were you baffled, for example, when I said I “did a thing”? I bet you were like, Wait, that’s so much more than a “thing”! Correct. What about when I asked how “little old me” could achieve something so extraordinary? You were like, Come on—you’ve always been extraordinary! Ha—I love that. Then there was the time I was like, “So this happened . . .” and you were like, Don’t be so modest! Good point.
Which brings us around to my current phase. Is it really “news” that my mood has shifted? No. Am I going to post it anyway? You bet. Why? Because news for this writer is so few and far between that I must continue to go full-bore with my posts, even if they’re old news. And so here I am, hurtling over the moon.
You might say it’s a pretty big deal to have journeyed this far. Not all writers vault the moon, you know. I had one unfortunate author-friend (let’s call her Sandra) who would post her news merely once or twice, and with a simple thank-you to whoever was involved. At one point she was even “humbled.” But, sadly, she never made it over the moon. You can imagine where Sandra is today. (Dead, probably. I don’t know. She isn’t posting, which is the same as being dead.)
You see, what Sandra didn’t understand is that posting these minute changes in emotional experience is a lifeblood for us writers. Because despite your “likes,” your emojis, and your rallying comments, you’ll probably never read my work (the subject of my news) or meet me in person. These posts likely comprise our entire life together. So let’s make it a good life, full of clichés, forced enthusiasm, and an even exchange of hyperbole.
Because, friends—I hate to spring this on you—but I actually have news. Does anybody else feel that slight shift in my emotional state? I am no longer “over the moon.”
I’m blessed.