It's Real

Some time ago, I attended a writers' conference where one of the speakers described the point at which his book became real to him. It seems he was in the habit of going to a local coffeeshop each day to write. The staff got used to him over the months and years, and seemed to regard him as a mildly eccentric but harmless scribbler. He thinks they imagined he was journaling or keeping a diary.

Then one day, he showed up with his published book under his arm. The bound, final, glorious copy of the book he'd written in their shop. He said he wished he'd had a photo of the looks on their faces. He's now a local hero.

My checking copy of Death of a Cozy Writer appeared on my doorstep the other day. A checking copy is actually the finished product, but I was asked to read through it - yet again! - to find any minor mistakes that could be corrected when the book goes into reprint.

Now, I had seen this book in all the various forms: manuscript, advanced reader copies, proof pages. This was the first time I'd seen the whole, real thing, with the actual front and back cover. I have to tell you, there is no thrill like it. Too bad I don't often write in a coffee shop or I'd be there in a flash showing it off.