So here’s an idea I have about blogging.  Instead of actually doing it, I’m just going to link to other people who are doing it better.  What do you think about that?

For example, the great Carrie Ryan has written an enlightening post about why it takes so freaking long for a book to appear in book form, even after it’s written.  This is something I’ve been thinking about, and fielding questions about, quite a bit lately, and I’ve been meaning to tackle all those behind-the-scenes publishing processes here…but the truth is, I really didn’t know what they were!  Thanks to Carrie, now I do.

In all of the exciting travel/wedding/garden news (my radishes are STUNNING, thanks for asking!) I realize I’ve been sort of neglecting to tell you about that other little thing I’ve been doing, pretty much every day for the past year…as in working on WISHFUL THINKING.

And I am SO SO SO excited to announce that it’s basically done!

Basically.  Because if you read Carrie’s post, you’ll see that “done” is an incredibly relative term.  As of last week, I’ve just entered Step Six:  Copyedits.  Which means I’ve written and rewritten, edited and line-edited, and now it’s up to other, more careful readers to catch all of the mistakes and make it look all shiny and pretty, and turn my bundle of colorful tracked-changes into a real live book.

Another fun step that happens around this time is the writing of the dedication and acknowledgment pages.  This is only the second time I’ve gotten to do this, but I’m pretty sure it’s my favorite part.  I love looking back and remembering all of the people who were so instrumental in making this story come together.

And this time around, given the emphasis on family and identity in this particular story, I’m feeling especially grateful for my own family members, the ones I was born to and alongside, and the ones I’ve gathered along the way.

I like keeping the dedication part a surprise, but let’s just say I’ve been doing a lot of looking at the old family tree.  And people, that tree puts even my glorious beets and radishes to shame.