a rose by any

This morning, rather spontaneously, I changed the name of my soon-to-be-published book. My new and newest book. A “possible” book – the way Pink Floyd sings about “Your possible pasts” – which has hung out and lingered, rushed from the shadows and slipped back in, a long, long time. Yet now, with the possible help from a woman named Bailey on the continent of Australia, is nearly an actual, get to hold it in your hands, thing.

And as of a couple of hours ago, with a new name.