The morning’s snow fog cloaks trees in ice, an eagle flies North, and the days of February blow forward. Is Spring training near?
After sifting the manuscript for my upcoming book release, I felt as if I had sifted tons of sand. I picked out mossy twigs, broken bark pieces, and rocks from what seemed like ages of writing washed up from the tossed ocean of my mind, memory and experience.
There were also broken toy pieces buried in the sand; notions or ideas I had played with before that were too automatic, too obsolete, and poorly developed to include. I could not stare at them for too long, humbled by the fact that I had not finished constructing them in the past.
That work had to be done. In delaying publication to find and discard these ideas suffering from arrested development, it took the prospect of another person examining the manuscript one more time for me to cast aside some of these self-interested ideas. To my proofreader I am most grateful.
Soon, finally, I will have news of the final title, and where the book can be found.
I am grateful that Spring training is here.