I'm always glad to see the UPS man, but today he brought something very special indeed. The proof copy of my novel, OVER THE RIVER, THROUGH THE WOODS.
All I could say was, "Oh my God," over and over again as I held it in my hands for the first time. Seeing my name on the cover has become a surreal experience. It doesn't feel real somehow as it sits here on my desk. I've had a byline for years in newspapers and magazines, but this. . .this. . .is something else entirely.
The cover art is more beautiful and apt than I could've ever imagined. The photo of the bridge as if Jenny had been there to snap it. The cornflower blue of the background. The blurb. It all comes together perfectly.
This leaves one last thing--getting the typesetting corrected--before it can go to print and be sold in bookstores everywhere.
Now that's a thought that just took the top of my head off.
I think as writers we all become so divorced from the final product in our passion for putting the words down on the page. In our need to tell the story. I want to ask Stephen King and Patricia Cornwell if it ever gets old, this getting a book into print. They're both on Twitter. I think I'll do just that and see what (if) they say.
