After a year of intense work, writing stories and sketching illustrations we're nearing the home stretch!
I've heard people talk about "the process" and how exciting it is, but I've come to experience it for myself. Harley riders have a similar expression. They say it's not about the destination, it's the ride. So it has been with writing.
Remember how frustrating it was to have to write a 500 word report in school? How do I come up with that many words about the Boston Tea Party? Now I see words as something pliable, like clay or paint on canvass.
In any case, the fourth galley is nearly complete and ready to send to Lou, my publisher. I have to admit to feeling a little sadness at being so close to the end. These short stories have been so much a part of me. Not that they'll be any less a part. It just won't be the same.
Whatever shall I do with myself now?