It’s a strange thing to be looking at galleys.
I’m not reading them just yet. Just looking at the stack on the corner of the desk.
Waiting until I’m really back from vacation (tomorrow? The next day?) to turn the pages on a culmination of hopes, dreams and other cliché etceteras.
It’s a strange thing to think having a book will be any different from the day I didn’t have a book. (But it will!)
To know there won’t be anymore workshops or critiques or revisions or blocks or brainstorms or bad ideas or whiskey headaches or chocolate indulgences associated with the story that will affect the book.
I’m thrilled, appalled, surprised, terrified, ecstatic that this thing I’ve long thought impossible is almost accomplished.
Check.
I’m not saying it’s a seat I’m not savoring.
I’m just saying it’s fraught.
Hollywood Buckaroo should be available in July.
Don’t worry – I won’t let you forget.
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