I just finished my seventh novel. A searing tale of loves labors, world domination, enlightened epiphanies and uproarious uproariousness. I hope.
Like anyone who's ever written a book I'm feeling elated and apprehensive. Great to finish, gulp for the inevitable criticism.
Let it be known criticism is a good thing. It has a negative connotation in our society, but without it the pursuit of excellence is a daydream. Still, I'd just as soon everybody loved everything I did.
My daughter and I were talking about this the other day. As we get older our skin should get thicker. Or, at least, we should understand the process better. We called it a "circle of honesty." For without that circle one will never find true achievement.
Yeah, we were feeling pretty good about ourselves and our enlightened world view. Knowing she had a cross country flight coming up I asked if she'd read the book on the plane. Of course she said yes. All I can think is, "I hope she likes it."
My two favorite people in the world are my two first critics. After them I'm ready to face the world. Not that they're tough. They aren't. They're fair. Even if I don't want them to be. Isn't that what honesty is all about?
So, I'll drive her to the airport, hand her the novel and wait with bated breath. I'm pretty sure she'll get to it when she can. Probably.
In a couple weeks time I'm heading into the recording studio for voice work on the terrific project I mentioned a bit ago. It's going really well. Really fun. Great people. I love getting to do cool and unusual stuff and this is cool and unusual. Still can't say exactly what project it is, but I will when I can.
That's all for now. More to come.