So, there's this funny thing that happens when your very first goodreads reader review is lousy. Well, I don't know if 'funny' is really the right word. Let's say 'challenging.' It calls into question every needlepoint pillow--before memes there were bumper stickers and pillows--I've ever read about trusting myself and staying the course. It forces me to thank the universe for giving me the 'opportunity' for growth and self-discovery, aka, self-restraint.

It's all I can do to sit on my typing fingers and not reach out to the unsatisfied reader. "If only you'd kept reading" or "My goal was to explore..." "You may have discovered it wasn't what you thought." I have to squwash each impulse with every fiber of my being to not offer whatever to her heart's desire. I don't suppose a batch of chocolate chip cookies would make a difference. Surf lessons? I know a guy. Feng shui? I got a girl for that, too. Just please, take down your lousy review, for the love of Pete.

Honestly, the hoops my mind jumps through while considering what I would do for just a small slice of break--and control. But it's a trap, as those of us know who've been in this game a while. It's a bad idea, a feckless plan. And as someone who's no stranger to the sunset stock photos with the scripty-fonted admonitions to breathe and let go, I breathe, for crying out loud, and let it go, goshdarnit. I know it's our egos who are holding the hoops, teasing us to jump through faster and higher. Take a hike, ego, I've no time for your hoop-y bullshit. I've got a book to promote, the next to write, and laundry to fold and put away.

And because the algorithm gods are mischievous that review will be parked there like a pickup on cinder blocks in my front yard. So, each time I log in I'll have the great good fortune of being reminded to breathe and let go. To encourage myself to remain focused on the work and thank the universe while ignoring the hoops.