120,547 words. Twelve chapters. 360 pages. Three years of work. Done.

I’m in talks with a publisher now, hoping for a spring 2011 release and book tour.

Finishing it provoked a feeling that’s difficult to describe. And of course it’s not completely done — I’m sure my editor and I will come up with some final tweaks. But after three years, to have something so close to final form — to feel I’ve done everything I can do, and the rest will be up to a collaboration with a professional… Well, intellectually it feels great. But as for the visceral aspect, what I feel is… hollow. Like some great part of myself has been extracted. Nothing else has really sunk in.

Perhaps when I actually see the book as a physical object, I will feel the way I expected to feel from the first: like a proud mother.

Thanks to all of you for helping me through this. I couldn’t have done it alone.