Anticipation

I’m fixing to anticipate.

Let us not confuse anticipation with wishing or hoping.

Wishing is a strong desire for something that is not easily attainable or that cannot or most probably will not happen—something like wishing you could win the lotto, or wishing that you could buy a gallon of gas for under two dollars, or even that the armadillos would all go back to Mexico.

Hoping is similar to wishing, but differs in that it is to want something to happen or to be true and think that it could happen or be true—something like hoping tomorrow could be a sunny day, or that you quite possibly could run into that lovely woman again, or even that the Democrats could get voted out of power.

Whereas, anticipation perfectly conjures up thoughts and expectations of positive and sweet consequences, of which there exists enough evidence to warrant that your desires are going to happen or come into existence, just aren’t here yet, and sometimes resulting directly from a labor of love, or from an unfortunate action on your part—something like your new book is about to be published, or that your court date is about to arrive.

My momma taught me what anticipation was after I had committed some unfortunate action, when she would say, “You just wait till your daddy gets home!”

But my current state of anticipation is based upon something rewarding as a result of two years of labor, research and cramping fingers, which seems to be finally coming to fruition.

I’ve heard it said that it takes an elephant almost two years to give birth. It seems that I now know what a pregnant elephant feels like.

The object of my anticipation is the publication of my fourth novel in the young adult fiction series published by NewSouth Books.

The title of it is The Salvation of Miss Lucretia, and they tell me the publication date is around March 1, only about three weeks form now!

I just can’t stand all this anticipation by myself, so I thought I would share some of it by relating a short scene from the book so that the anticipation could also be shared. The scene is after Ted and Poudlum have been unfortunate enough to fall into a deep hole constructed to trap animals while being pursued through the forest by Cudjoe Lewis, who has come upon them trapped deep down in the Panther Pit.

Here we go—“I know y’all down there,” Cudjoe called out, “and I found de casings of dem bullets y’all chunked in de fire. Think y’all mighty smart, don’t you? Well, I got a surprise for you. I was gonna take him with me, but I thought, no, dem boys will be wanting some company down in de Panther Pit!”

“What you think he’s talking about?” Poudlum whispered to me.

I didn’t have time to answer because when we looked up and saw what Cudjoe had in his hands it struck silent terror into my heart. It was the cage with Miss Lucretia’s prize rattlesnake in it!

We watched with horror as Cudjoe tilted the cage forward and opened its latch, and then that giant rattlesnake tumbled out of it and came floating down towards us like a wingless dragon!

End of scene, and now I hope everyone will be fixing to anticipate along with me.