Call me Mr. Yes And

  My wife thinks you all should pity her.
 This woman puts up with my crazy aspirations and, worse, near constant need for feedback. For the past five years, she's (mostly) listened patiently as I've ran down the stairs, pulled her away from whatever more important thing she was doing, and cajoled her into listening to my Salt stories. 
  Yes.
  I am a thirty-one year old manchild who does this sort of thing on the regular.

  This should shock none of you. 
  Whether  high school pep sessions performing SNL and WWE wrestling skits, or insisting to those in the dorms back at BSU that I could've totally been Legolas if Peter Jackson would've just waited for me to establish myself as an actor, I've never been what you might call shy of requiring attention, nor setting goals easily achieved. 
  I've been referred to as Peter Pan, Captain Jack, Indiana Galvin, and some annoying little dog that won't leave you alone unless you pet it. (Okay, so maybe no one else calls me the first three names on that list).

  All this to say Karen knew what she was getting herself into. Let's keep the pity for those bits of my annoying behavior at a minimum.
  However, give her full-on pity for dealing with my insatiable ambition. If some of you were annoyed last week by the big push to market Salted, know that at least you can defriend and/or unfollow me. 
  This chick's tied to me for life.
 Don't start in on the argument that technically she could leave me either. She can't. We've already discussed that, clearly, Salted is going to be the next big thing. I mean, that's why it peaked at #34 on Amazon's Top 100 Hot New & Future Releases last week, right? ;)
  This previous Friday, the wife, kiddo, and I drove to L.A. both to celebrate release week and a friend's birthday. With baby girl asleep, Karen and I discussed sales and how thankful I am for all of you and the blogging community generously helping me expand my reader base.
 (Side note. If you haven't already, check out my latest interview, book promo, book birthday, and two guest posts: Reverse Engineering YA Success, and A Selkie Slave Catcher interviewed).
  Anywho, Karen mentioned how excited she was; inside the Top 50 all week, you people seem to enjoy the read, etc. 
 Those of you who know me well can guess what's coming. I had to spoil this happy moment with the mention I feel like I'm not doing enough. That I need to push harder. Send out a few more review requests. Write another chapter in the sequel. 
   Karen chuckles.
  "What?" I ask. "Why are you laughing?"
  "Just you," says she. "This is the rest of my life, isn't it?"
  "Huh?"
  "You can't just sit back and enjoy the moment for long." Laughs again. "I tell you that it's awesome you made it into the Top 50 all week. You say, 'Yes, and now I have to get it #1.'"
   "Okay, but-"
   "And next week it will be, 'Yes, and now I need to think about finishing the next book."
   "Sure-"
   Karen shakes her head. "And then it will be, 'Sweet, now I need to see these books made into movies."
   "Yes..."
  "And then it will be, 'Yes, my books are movies, and now I need to win Best Actor at the Oscars. And make more movies. And write more books." She grins. "And, and, and..."
   "What's your point, lady?"
   "When does it stop?"
   "When I die," says I.
   "Yes," Karen replies. "And then you'll want to get into Heaven."
    So please. Show this lovely lady I call wife a little pity. ;)