Clouds in the middle of the Pacific. I consider them amazing.
Finishing a novel? That is amazing too.
The publication journey? Amazing.
This is F***ing AMAZING.
9:30 and 75 degrees.
Clouds are like books. I thought of this as I was standing watch on my passage across the Pacific.
I think of this again as people read LOTTERY.
Each one unique.
Mysteries. Romance. Thrillers.
Something for everyone.
Appearances shift and alter.
I see comedy. You see tragedy.
You laugh. I cry.
What type of cloud will my book be?
One that is ethereal?
Gone in the wisp of an instant?
Or held as vapor in the hearts of my readers.