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It's a strange thing to write a book. I can't speak for anyone else, but in my own case, it has been the experience of extreme tunnel-vision. Beer, beer, beer, beer. I dream in beer. Someone will mention something and I think: that reminds me of [some story about beer]. I do my very best to remind myself that this is an interior experience, and that to everyone else these matters are of (rightly) little import. It will be fascinating to emerge on May 2 from this weird cocoon, blinking in the sunlight, and be out of a job. From incredible tunnel-vision to unemployment. What whiplash that will be. I'm trying to let that future self remind present self that he's got a great job and he should enjoy himself.
The bad news is that Workman has slated the publication for Fall 2014. Talk about delayed gratification. I guess we'll all be waiting a good long time for it to ripen, like Budvar. Anyway, 200,000 words, fifty days--these are the relevant numbers of the moment. Back to my hole.
A book of that length will require substantial proofing and editing, huh?
ReplyDeleteAlso, I heard you like your little cocoon.
They have a standard process for a book of any length.
ReplyDeleteI'm ready to get out of the cocoon.
Congrats. But what on earth will you do with yourself when it is over? I think you should do the Beer Book of Mormon (after some digging in your back yard of course) - you can write of the discovery that beer was introduced in the new world by Jesus himself...
ReplyDelete