It's been a strange few days since the cover reveal. So many very lovely comments and well wishes. Sometimes I am amazed at how something I dreamt up, staring into the screen like a scrying bowl, can go on to affect others in such a way. It is like releasing a slingshot. When it hits its mark you feel both amazement and wonder.
Today I wrote the hardest part of any novel: the dedication and acknowledgements.
I always feel a little sad at this point, because it is truly The End.
There is nothing more to write after that, only the waiting period between now and release, with all the promotion that goes with it.
There is a lot of hope hanging on this story. It is a nervous time, waiting to see what reviewers will say. I try not to take anything too much to heart, even the good stuff, as there is always that fear that in accepting the praise you will find criticism harder to take. Better to keep your story as a private pleasure and then let it go.
Rosy Hours has been an important book for me, as I finally feel that I have found my voice as a writer. Everything written before seems like practise now, and I'm not ashamed of admitting that writers are created not born - it does take practise, trial and error.
Anyway. Those to be thanked have been thanked, I have placed my heart between the pages and closed them again.
I am in the early stages of my next novel and it seems that this new voice I have found grows stronger. I am pleased with what I have written so far, and this takes my mind off all that is to come in the months before Rosy Hours blooms (or withers) in the public eye.
Characters are as real as any friend, as one group leaves another arrives.
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