something about a coffee shop

I have written a new book. An electric copy of which is presently somewhere in the Columbia River Gorge in Oregon, waiting on thoughts from a young woman traveling a similar path.

At some point I may go into the how’s and why’s of it – what encouraged me to set out on a journey into my impossible past. Though maybe not. There are considerations.

The new book is non-fiction. It follows my book “It’s Like This,” a fiction, which followed “My Startled Heart,” a book of poetry. Fortunately I’ve heard, “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.” So I should be all set there.

I’m wide open to whatever feedback flies back here from Oregon. The book does feel kind of done, unless I hear from Cassie that trying to trudge through has led to a coma-like situation. Then I’d likely be obliged to change a word here and there. Perhaps more concerning is the fact the two women who formatted the previously mentioned “This” and “Heart,” respectively, seem to have fallen off the here-to-help-technical-dummies map. It’s always something, right?

I can promise you, this Tuesday morning, more will be following. Because I have written a new book.