Exhausted just watching.

Last night, I was playing on Facebook at a release party. Running into familiar names and faces, meeting some new ones. Good times.

My attention was somewhat divided, feeling a bit under pressure with other things going on in – what's that thing called? Oh, yeah. Life. I got awfully proud of myself when I tossed out some tweets for participating authors, helping promote their work, and then got in a bit of a sweat thinking about my own three-day event, starting today on FB:

Don't get me wrong! I love the events. Love being invited, either as participant or guest. Love playing, commenting, tweeting, sharing – it's great fun. And the readers who come out to play! They're awesome! They're funny and smart and generally jazzed to participate. Love meeting them. So, I'm going to have a good time during the event, as I always do.

As I've told anyone who would [and even those who wouldn't] listen to my whining, June's been a hellish kind of month in my schedule, and I'm so glad it's almost over. I see wine, and friends, and barbecues, and a diminished TBR in that fantasised future called July. That's all I've thought about for weeks, going well back into April. And in the middle of last night's multitasking, I wondered if I would ever see the Magical Land of Outside ever again.

One of my sidebars of the evening was having a PM chat with Katerina Baker, who blogs every day, works on her novel[s] and WiPs every day, has a personal and professional existence, and is busy, busy, busy all the time. It exhausts me just thinking of what she accomplishes in a day.

At the same time I was having this chat, I was conversing with the person hosting the FB event, Angie Martin. Wife, mom, best-selling author, FB-event planner . . . I have no idea how she does it. It makes me dizzy just thinking of it. Sure, I can spend eighteen hours in front of my computer, but I don't accomplish a fraction of what Angie does.

So this is my shout out to women like these. You are phenomenal role models. Don't stop being your energetic selves. I want to be you when I grow up [though I doubt that's going to happen any time soon, since it hasn't happened yet]. Thank you for your support – and I'm not the only person who is in your collective debt.

But thank you, thank you, thank you, both. You are inspirational. And I promise to still be inspired by you while I'm catching up on my reading in July . . . and I'll toast you with my glass of wine.