It occurs to me that you might be interested to know the inside story on the glamorous, high-energy process of getting a book published. So I’ll tell you where I am as of today with West Oversea (available soon wherever fine books are sold. Ask for it by name).

A couple days back I got e-mails from my publisher and my editor, asking for input on the actual production of the physical book.

I got a .pdf of the manuscript as it’s been laid out, and the editor wanted my opinions on some issues. Would I mind if they moved the List of Characters from the back to the front? (Not at all.) What did I think of the “Kells” font? (I love it with a love that is more than love, but I think the body of the back cover copy should be in something more immediately readable.) Can I get some kind of blurb for this book, to supplement the reviews of older books? (Yes, I can. In fact I was amazed at the enthusiasm with which a couple fairly prominent personages, whom I know only by e-mail, agreed to read the galleys and write something for us. One guy I’d really hoped for isn’t answering my e-mails, but you can’t have everything.)

I mailed her a sheaf of copies of my old reviews yesterday, along with a copy of The Year of the Warrior, because she’d like this volume to resemble that earlier volume a little. (Which is nice.)

She notes that I’ll have to make some changes in the Afterword, where I thank people. That’s more true than she knows. I wrote the Afterword back in 2002, and at least one (very likely two; I’m not sure yet) of the people I thanked have passed away in the intervening Seven Lean Years. And I suspect I’ll want to thank her too, before I’m done.

This is one of the best parts of the process. I can’t wait to see the cover art. And looking forward to holding the actual, bound book in my hands is—well, I won’t say it’s like waiting for your child to be born. The two things aren’t even in the same ballpark (from all I hear). Let’s say it’s like waiting for the puppies to be born.