We’re halfway through August, right in the middle of the haze of summer, and I’m thinking about snow. See, I’ve got two documents open right now: one is the first draft of the book, flush with the editor’s commentary, and a second file next to it, white and pristine, like a blanket of snow powdering a flat plain. Second drafts are second chances, and rather than leaving my mark on an unscathed surface like the first go-through, I’ve got hints and trails of ideas to guide the words. Writing has turned to rewriting. I’m fitting my feet into my old footprints, and trying to correct the missteps.
I took a few weeks away from writing while Mandy was editing, and that time has given greater clarity about the book’s impetus. The first draft felt like inventing, but the second appears to be more like choreography—complete with cut chapters, added sections, revised order, and refined focus. I’m excited about the direction of the book, and invigorated by the response of those who have read the first draft. The ideas are there, the structure is nearly there, and the writing has momentum.
In this moment of velocity, I feel obliged to slow down and consider my fortune to be able to write this book, share these ideas, have an audience, and enjoy the support this book has had. So, I’m sending out this note as a simple way to say thank you for your support, patience, and interest. All three seem to be in ever less supply these days, so to be offered them in such abundance is certainly a blessing not to be taken for granted.
Again, thank you.