I checked the mirror yesterday and I didn’t look any different, as far as I could tell. The skies didn’t part and shine rainbows over me as I walked the sidewalks yesterday. No butterflies danced around my head. Strangers did not stop me on street corners to ask me to autograph their bare stomachs. I was not gifted with a single kitten.

But I did skip into a Barnes & Noble in Manhattan and witness this:

So it happened, the book was published, but I’m the same person I was. Guess what I’m doing right now? Working away on a chapter for this new novel… feeling daunted by all the pages left to write… stressing about time or lack thereof… the usual. It never ends, does it? I mean, seriously, where is my kitten!