What a long, long gestation. But it’s almost ripe for delivery. I have only to finish the formatting for Smashwords and with any luck and careful attention, this book will be available to readers next week. But here’s the weird thing about our digital world: now that Accidental Child is about to be seen in public, it feels less real to me. It will be out of my hands and into someone’s e-reader. It won’t be that manuscript draft on gray paper that my editor marked up. It won’t be a file sleeping the days away in the safety of my computer. It won’t be just mine anymore.
Not that I’m complaining, really. But I’ve worried about its leaving home. What if it goes unnoticed in the world, like an adult child who travels far and never calls? My only defense is to raise another one. And hope that all my literary children are hardworking and honorable among the throngs of books crying for attention. I have to let it go and hope that I’ve given it a good start in life, but whatever it does, there it is for all the world to see–or at least a small part of the world. Travel safe, Little One. Write if you get work. Call your mother on her birthday, or yours.