Last week, I gleefully attended the book launch for Saving Ellen, a debut memoir by fellow Mystic Writer Maura Casey. Why gleefully? Two reasons: one, I’m wildly excited for Maura, who has worked and waited for this moment; and two, it wasn’t my book launch. Does this second reason sound weird? Don’t all writers want to get published and launch their books? Yes, is the quick answer. And attending Maura’s launch certainly took me back several years to my book launches.

The five launches for my novels were all wonderful, in that they were well attended, and I sold a fair number of books at each event. The tough part, for me, has always been managing my anxiety and emotions. My book launches were like mini weddings, with people from lots of different times and places in my life, all gathered to celebrate the release of one of my novels. Members of my family came. Friends from the different towns I’ve lived in traveled to Mystic. People from the Y and Mystic Seaport and the school system and various businesses in town and church and organizations I’ve volunteered for – they’re were all there, smiling and clapping and cheering. It’s overwhelming, kind of like weddings. And each time, my tears of appreciation, gratitude, and love, as well as fear, uncertainty, and inadequacy were all very close to the surface.

Also challenging is the flat-out impossibility of connecting with everyone who comes. This means that for the effort they’ve made to be with me, to support me, I can reward them only with a quick hug and a few words of thanks. People appear to understand this…but I feel like I’m short-changing them nonetheless.

Pushing anxiety and emotions to the side, my book launches were joyous occasions. It is on those evenings that I received affirmation of my work and confirmation that I’m a writer. I knew that the stories I created were now available to readers all over the country and beyond. Many of these people I’d never met or meet – and yet dozens have contacted me over the years.

The most memorable was the first. A man named Glenn from Dallas emailed me about The Good Life, telling me: “When I read the back and it stated ‘dementia-stricken’ father I knew I had to purchase it. I bought another copy for my sister and gave it to her this week and she is about finished as well. I just emailed my other sister in DC and told her to buy it and download onto her nook. And today my copy goes into the mail for my mom in east Texas to read. Do you have another book in the works?” When I responded, I asked him how he knew my brother, who also lives in Dallas, because surely, this was the reason he’d bought the book. He wrote back: “I don’t.” Not until then did I grasp the wide reach of my publisher’s arm and the potential connection I could make with readers. And it was thrilling.

So yes, I’d choose all over again to board the emotional rollercoaster of a book launch evening. With three novels ready to go, it may again happen. It’s a wild but rewarding ride. And my friend, Maura, has just left the station.