6 am and 79 degrees.
An email from my editor. Innocuous.
"You should be getting something in the mail..."
I knew the finished book would be out soon but I had no idea. The package came yesterday.
I thought I would cry.
Instead I drank a margarita at 2:30 in the afternoon.
Then champagne at 7 pm.
That's what I was thinking.
My life this past year has been like the plot of a novel. Not thriller. Not fantasy. Maybe romance.
The dull parts, the angst - reminiscent of literary fiction.
Last year at this time I had agents requesting and reading the full manuscript of LOTTERY.
This time last year Dorian had my query and asked for the full.
This time last year I was unrepresented.
This time last year.
A year later?
A real live honest to goodness book.
So here's to dragonflies.
Most of all to hope.