I’ve noticed two opposing impulses when I think about people reading my book.  First is the thrill of knowing that people will have a chance to share in your vision.  It is so humbling to think that someone, somewhere, has spent some of their money and time to read what I have to say.  But at the same time, it was nerve racking to submit a final version for publication.  Maybe the reason is that I am such a perfectionist that I probably could spend the rest of my life writing and re-writing Vague Pains– though I’m not sure how emotionally healthy that would be!  If I’m honest with myself there is another factor: putting my book out there makes me vulnerable.  What if it sucks?  Perhaps worse than being merely bad, what if its boring?!  As long as it remains a work in progress, I can tell myself that it will be a work of utter genius…at some point.

A few months ago, after years of rewrites, something changed.  I started to feel a sense of peace, that the story was finally done.  It reached a point where (after 10 years) I felt that it finally did justice to the idea I had way back at the beginning.  Still…I can’t shake that same anxious anticipation that all authors must feel when they have their first release.  Oh well, here goes!