But you know what? It is still a really, really good book-birthday.
Dreams of the Eaten is still a damn fine book, given life and shape by
damn fine people. My Twitter feed is blowing up with love from all
quarters. Saturday is going to be a baller time, no matter what. And
more than that... like, today marks the day when the end of the story is
officially made real. You can download the e-book right now and put it
in your face (and I would love it if you did!) And that can't be undone.
It is safe. It exists. Even if the physical copies all get burned up in
a warehouse fire. Even if the book tanks and goes out of print.
Finally, after 17 years, the whole entire story is written and made
available to the world, and if I get hit by a bus today, there will
still be a piece of me out there living its own little life - complete
and unkillable - and I will have paid my Earthly rent.
I am so proud of this book, y'all - this series, this story-world. And while I reserve the right to collapse back into fits of author-angst the next time I get a shitty depressing royalty statement, please feel free to remind me that I wrote every word of this post and meant it. And that I would never have had such wonderful problems without first having such wonderful people.
Thanks for seeing me through, y'all. It wouldn't mean a thing without you.
I am so proud of this book, y'all - this series, this story-world. And while I reserve the right to collapse back into fits of author-angst the next time I get a shitty depressing royalty statement, please feel free to remind me that I wrote every word of this post and meant it. And that I would never have had such wonderful problems without first having such wonderful people.
Thanks for seeing me through, y'all. It wouldn't mean a thing without you.