Look what came in the mail yesterday.

Of course I cried.

Though, not when I leafed through the amazing illustrations my now-former agent drew herself. (She’s left agent’ing and gone back to school for design and illustration!!)

Nor the gorgeous calligraphy, hand-penned by a dear friend.

Nope. No tears so far. I actually breathed the first deeper-than-chest breaths I’ve managed in a while. It was an arc of relief to finally lay my hands on the product of so many people’s hard work, cleaned up and polished, Sunday-clothes fine.

It was at the acknowledgements page when I completely lost it.

The very last page. Pages 265 and 266 to be exact. I can’t imagine how I would have made such a beautiful thing without the village of friends, both new and old, who worked their asses off when it wasn’t neat and tidy just yet, who offered up their talents, skills and creative genius for little more than fresh-baked bread, jars of jam or homemade ice cream. These are the people who were still around when I got too little sleep and cried more often than I’d care to admit. When there were deadlines all the time and I had no free time for play. When I needed copious amounts of tea and snacks. They welcomed me into their homes to share food, insights and pulled pork. They drove me to New Jersey so I could learn how to sew. They made dinner every night (and I almost took it for granted).

I can’t wait for you to read the names of these people.

An ISBN number, woah!This book is hardly about me and my journey. It’s actually about you. You were out there ready to listen, ready to read. You left me comments of encouragement and inspiration on the Facebook page, here on the blog. You filled-out my houseparty planning form, you told me to come to your city. You told me to keep on, keeping on! You made this real.

You continue to keep it real.

Oh, hell, here I go again. (I promise not to cry at the book signings. This is surely why they send authors advance review copies.)