The fridge at Mom’s is full of twenty years of photos. New years eves, babies, picture of me on stoops of houses long gone, braces and baby toes, nieces and nephews and everyone in between. I pawed at a butterfly, the symbol I share with mom for all of those we love who have gone on to other worlds.
“She’s there, you know,” Mom said, and whispers, “Little T.”
Tomorrow night, I will celebrate the launch of “Unpacked: from PEI to Palawan” with a literary inspired reading at the Confederation Centre Art Gallery in my hometown of Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, followed by a book launch party at Upstreet Craft Brewing.
I have asked musicians, other writers and my nearest and dearest to be part of the celebration. There will be fiddlers, cupcakes, stickers, buttons, and in the middle, I will read a chapter from Unpacked.
Things I’m feeling are: terror, excitement, cautious enthusiasm, and more terror. In today’s marketplace, being a writer means being an entrepreneur. There’s the blogs, there are interview to organize, photos to paw through, and web pages to update. This is the total opposite of sitting in my office, in candlelight, finishing the intimacies of my memoir.