Not a lot of time left now until I shove my ebook out the door. Recently went on vacation to visit the family back home in Maine, swung by Stephen King’s famous Bangor home to see the bats and take a photo of myself lurking at the gates of the master. Wore my Daukherville shirt to warn him of things to come, ha!
All in good fun. He is still the writer I’ve read the most. Even if he wasn’t one of the most prolific, I think that would still be the case. His were the first books I ever read, and to say that I was influenced by him is an understatement; his books were part of the landscape of my childhood, and I’m grateful for it. It was a lot of fun.
But now it’s back to the hard and stressful work of trying to make my stories better. I’ve been working a lot, even if I haven’t been posting much, and I feel great about the first and fourth sections; it’s the damn middle two now that I have to get into shape.
So little time, and it just doesn’t stop being scary. I have no idea if I’m doing the right thing.