You know, there’s this amazing delight at this, the final stages of the book’s design process. I’ve held the bound copy with my name on it, I’ve now seen the interior design, I’ve got an inkling as to what they’re doing for the cover art and I’m happy with it, and it all makes the book’s existance all the more real.

So of course, the nightmares begin.

Allison told me I couldn’t start getting nervous until I held my book in my hand (taken from the box of copies the publisher will sent to me). Well, I am afraid I am breaking Allison’s rule. (Actually, she said this some time prior to ThrillerFest and then again at the con, and I was already a little nervous then.) The really great thing about my journey is that it took a long time to get here since, when I sold it, the book wasn’t even written. The long interim gave me time to learn a lot about publishing and develop some ideas for some marketing I’ll do (like creating the book video) — things I wouldn’t have had time for if I hadn’t had that writing time last year. The really nerve-wracking thing is that it’s given me a whole lotta time to think.

Always a bad idea.

I’ve thought of just about every way I could plant face-first into failure. There are eight million, nine-hundred thousdand and sixty-three. Yes, I counted. And really, there’s just nothing I can do about it, there’s no way to reassure me (because you know, I know this is just a part of the process). I know that, so I just shove the image away and get back to the next book.

I really would like to stop worrying completely, but what if worrying is my super-power? Huh? I mean, how do you know for sure it’s not? See?