You won -- just don't tell anyone!

(Originally published June 1) 

Huh?

That’s right. Last Friday when I learned my novel, “The Way Life Should Be” would be published, I was warned if word leaked before the official announcement on Gather, my Simon & Schuster deal would be off.

No problem. After years of working on my book, followed by months of the First Chapters Competition, I wasn’t going to blow it by opening my big mouth.

After finishing the conversation, I paced the empty hall outside our offices, trying to absorb the news. I’d always dreamed of getting that phone call and acting calm and collected (which I didn’t), then hanging up and shouting “I. Just. Sold. A. Novel!”

Recently my fantasy script changed. I’d imitate the “Little Miss Sunshine” scene where Olive hears she’ll be heading to California for the beauty pageant and runs around crazily repeating, “I won I won I won I won.” In fact, I planned on saying “I won I won I won” until somebody hit me over the head with a blunt object. (Note to First Chapter Critics: I know nobody hit Olive in the head during the movie.)

That was no longer going to happen. Oh, they said I could tell my family, which meant they obviously didn’t know my family. None of us can keep a secret. My 70-year-old mother blabs more things to strangers at the convenience store than most people admit to their doctors.

I was her son, for god’s sake, and just couldn’t keep this to myself. But I really wanted to tell my wife in person, rather than over the phone, especially since everyone at her office would know something was up when she completely freaked out with joy.

 My sister, the only quiet one in the bunch, takes it to the extreme and never answers her cell phone. So after carrying this burden around for at least, oh 30 seconds or so, I walked into my brother’s office.

“Can I tell you something in confidence?” I asked.

“That depends,” he said, looking at me as though he thought I murdered someone and he wasn’t sharing the rap.

“That’s not the answer I’m looking for!”

He shrugged like that was too bad.

Oh, hell, I thought, before blurting out the news.

“Don’t tell Mom!” he quickly warned me.

Of course not.

Even though she’d just gotten her first computer and was having technical troubles, a bingo pal might be Gatherer and I couldn’t take the risk.

Later that day, my sister-in-law said, “And it would be just your luck that she’d finally figure out how to post a comment.”

I glared at my brother.

He shrugged again, like I should have known better than to tell him. At least my sister-in-law didn’t share our gene for gossip. Neither did my wife, and her joy at the news got me through the long weekend. But as the hours slowly ticked by, it started to come out.

My sister finally answered her phone.

My niece took an oath of silence.

A nephew admitted he’d tell his wife, which caused a terrible panic, since she, shall we say, fits in with the rest of us.

Then it was a co-worker. Then another. And another. But right before I blurted the secret to the guy at the Slushy Machine, I stopped myself. No matter how much it hurt, I wouldn’t tell anyone else the news until it was official.

That nearly killed me.

But now it’s over.

“I won.”

There. I said it to the world.

Now I better go tell my mother. She’s going to be furious that I waited this long.