My book one year later and the startling relevancy of passion and hunches

This weekend marks the one year anniversary of the book launch of Surprise! (I’m linking to Kim because she got the best shots!)

(If you want a behind-the-scenes look of the day, go here)

This weekend also marks the last time dad ever made it down to visit. I remember him being there at the launch, poking the video camera into the crowd as he always did on such occasions, probably to the annoyance of some. What those people didn’t see what how he had to support his already weakening right arm with his left, a strange, awkward pose. Then a mere two days later he got the feared, but not unexpected, diagnosis of Motor Neuron Disease and I got the phone call I will never forget.

So – how about Surprise?

Surprise! has been wonderful. As far as its production is concerned in hindsight there are a few things I would do differently, but nothing so drastic as to alter the look or ‘feel’ it has ended up with. I’m still selling copies, libraries are still ordering them, my distributors haven’t put me on notice, and that has been a relief. Even better, parents are still coming up to me a year later saying their children are still drawing their own surprise pictures and tucking them into the back pocket.

My idea was a good one. And if I didn’t have it four years ago, I would’ve had it yesterday.
 

We were visiting the Melbourne Central Borders yesterday morning and as we walked past the new release CDs this little post-it note caught Keira’s attention. She picked it up and asked me to read it. As I didn’t feel she would ‘get’ the first two sentences (and, oh my, I really don’t want to enter the discussion of what a sin is quite yet) so I just said the last: “Love Yourself”.

Keira smiled and nodded before peeling off the note.

“Hey – don’t you want to leave that for someone else?”

“No. I think it was meant for me.”

Indeed, my daughter. I think it was.

Anyone who has read Surprise! will see the parallels between that story and the above one. Keira held that little piece of paper for hours. It was her discovery, her prize, and (most importantly, I think) her own personal philosophy that fate decided to deliver.

And that’s the kind of story I like to share – both here on the blog and in a book.

This is why I will always maintain a healthy respect for hunches and committed passion. You never know what will happen if you keep an open mind.