I keep checking to see if that final “proof” of An Unlikely Hero has arrived. The feeling of being tethered to some invisible object keeps my anxiety too restrained. Maybe it will never happen. Maybe there really isn’t a novel. Maybe all that work was only a creation in my imagination, not anything someone could actually pick up and read.
Yet I’ve been ask to speak at a Friends of the Library meeting concerning my work. That means the book is real. Right? People are already asking to buy it so I’m not dreaming. Right?
Come on already! I need to know the book exists.