Things Come Things Go (Or So I'm Told)

Those of you with eagle eyes and nothing better to do may have noticed the bookplate sampler is gone from the right side of the blog.

That's because the bookplates are gone.

I'm completely out of the lovely blue ones, and down to not very many of the greens and burgundies. I do still have a few of the black and silver ones, left over from the last bookplate extravaganza, but I'm sure all remaining plates will eventually find homes.

So rather than break people's hearts (Oh, how I yearned for a blue bookplate), I've made the offer vanish.

I recently got an email from a teacher asking if there was a teacher's guide for the dead & the gone, so I asked the kind folk at Harcourt about it. The kind folk were kind enough to respond that yes, indeed, there was one in the works, and I should be getting it fairly soon.

When fairly soon arrives, I'll let you know.

Meanwhile, I'm going through Blood Wounds withdrawal. It's been part of my life since last summer. First I came up with the idea, and developed it. Then I wrote 100 pages. That was followed by a fair amount of waiting to hear, which always burns up energy (if not calories). Next came trying to remember what the book was about, followed by the Winter Olympics (which probably didn't have much to do with Blood Wounds, but I feel I should be honest about such things). Then came writing again, followed by dumping the last 70 or so pages, then rewriting the last 70 or so pages, and then rewriting and rewriting and rewriting again. Yesterday morning I did the final rewrites, and sent the whole thing off, so now I'm back to waiting to hear. Once I do, there'll be rewrites with an editor's guidance to keep me busy, and then copy editing and galleys and the excitement of a new book.

But now I just feel that empty spot. I frequently go into a mini-depression when I finish a book, and just as frequently, I'm taken by surprise by it. This one might be a little more complicated, since I have no idea what the next step in my life is. I keep telling my friends I'm retired, and my friends keep mocking me. But maybe I am retired. Maybe Blood Wounds will be my last book. I don't know.

What I do know is I have to buy groceries and have lunch with my mother and make sure she takes her antibiotic exactly 1/2 hour before she gets her teeth cleaned. And then, because the dentist's office is very close to the cemetery where my father is buried, and because it's an absolutely beautiful day, we'll stop by there before I take her home.

Tomorrow the great spring cleaning adventure begins. What can I throw out this time?

Ooh. The very thought of discarding past treasures cheers me right up. Life is full of promise after all!