Hey, look what I made! A strange feeling to finally hold the book in my hands. The culmination of years of work, thinking, reading, researching, thinking, writing, rewriting, thinking, more rewriting, editing, editing, editing.
I'm looking through it, seeing how Lisa's sketches came out in the final printing, reading snippets - of my own words. Weird.
There was a time, not so long ago, that I could not have read it--AGAIN. Too full. Like the one more bite of turkey that you know will push you over the edge.
There is so much work involved in writing a book. I can't imagine doing it again.
But I will.
You know how they say the pain of childbirth is quickly forgotten? (Personally, I can't imagine that, but I'll take your word for it, moms.) I imagine it's similar for any painful process that ends in a joyful addition to your life. And right now, I am enjoying looking at Lisa's beautiful cover art. I like running my hand over the matte finish. I'm fanning the pages in front of my nose.
I'm supposed to be working on promoting Full Moon. I have a to-do list the length of my arm. In my own defense, I also have Shingles, so most of my days are currently devoted to trying to rebound from this annoying and unpleasant virus. But as I begin to recover and have energy for a couple of office tasks per day, am I doing the things on my to-do list? Nope. Mostly, I sit at my desk and wonder what Maddy and Cat and Draggin are up to. I think about whether they would want to try another dive and see if they can visit their friends from 1941. And what is happening with Malila? Where are those grandsons of hers? What happened to the Tagawas?
My sister is already nagging about the "next book". Full disclosure: I've seen some scenes. Jotted them down. Might go read them right now.
Maybe it's the anti-viral medication and the painkillers talking, but I feel good. Good enough to start again? Well, a few sentences can't hurt . . .
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