How to (Professionally) Thank People...

Where have I been? Where have I been?

I'm sorry. Basically, life got in the way of blogging. Don't you hate when that happens?

I have two books coming out next year. Which I'm happy about. One is the follow up to Knocked Up. Another is the first in a series of teen fiction books.

But, basically, I'm editing both at the same time. Which means just as I feel, "Ok, phew, finished that edit!" in the mail arrives some more pages for me to edit from the other book.

And, then, once I finish those and think, "OK, phew, finished that edit!" well, the first book comes back at me again, like a boomerang.

In any case, I finished (this round) of both books, just in time to head to Arizona for the long weekend. I've learned from past long weekends away, that you can't really enjoy yourself if you're thinking about deadlines and things you should have finished before you left but didn't.

This is all to say that I wanted to go away without any work on my brain. And I've accomplished that. Except I just know something will be waiting for me upon my return. But I have a few days before that happens.

I'm not sure about other authors, but the least fun part for me of writing a book is doing the acknowledgments. I know, I know. How hard can it be? I mean, don't you just thank everyone who ever meant anything to you?

Well, when my first book came out, I kind of did just that. I thanked basically everyone in the world. (I even thank Peggy Atwood, who I love!)

This time, for Wiped! (the follow up), nope. This time I thanked those who actually mean something to me, or who meant something to me during the writing of it.

I thank the people who worked on the book, my agent, and then some friends and family.

I said to the fiance when I was done, "It's so weird to write out a list of people who mean something to me." Because it has changed - somewhat drastically, since when I found out I was pregnant, when I wrote the first one, to now.

First off, unlike the first book, I only thank those people who I have talked to at least once a week since giving birth.

Being a mother means making time for friends, because you don't actually have that much free time. So, I figure, if I made the time to call them, it means I like them and care about them.

Likewise, most of the people I thank this round have also called me often.

Being a mother makes you realize who your friends are.

A lot of my "friends" dropped off the face of the planet in the few months after I gave birth.

This could be because they probably weren't really "friends" but more work-related friends, and since I've mostly become a full-time book writer, I don't have as many "work friends."

Also, I'm older (and maybe being a mother has made me wiser) but I don't thank people who were only friends on the "party-circuit" this round. I so don't care anymore about being seen in the scene. I really do care about toilet training.

Sure, I love seeing my party-circuit friends, but, come on, they really didn't help me out with the book. I'll still buy them a drink or two, but, well, you know.

Then there are the bosses. At The Globe and Mail, where I write a weekly column in the style section, I thank two of my editors, because I've really enjoyed working with them. Also, they were technically around while writing this book. I don't thank any of my editors at Last Place Of Employment, because, well, they weren't around for this book.

I thank two or three of my freelance editors, who I talk to once a month or so. But I really respect them. So they'll always get thanks, for all of my books.

And I actually thank all the readers of ninepounddictator.blogspot.com. Because, when I thought about who really has gotten me through a lot of this thing called Mothering, it was you guys. (And hey, you guys made it, Peggy Atwood didn't! Doesn't that mean something?)

But, trust me, if you are a mother, don't write out a list of friends (which, basically, is an acknowledgement list.) Because you'll wonder what happened to some of your friends and that will depress the fuck out of you.

Then again, you'll look at your now smaller list and think to yourself, "This is what it's like to have real friends."

And that's kind of nice. It's actually kind of very nice.