I realize I’ve been a little bit absent on the blogosphere lately (is that a thing, the blogosphere?). Truth be told, I’m terrible at any sort of blogging or journal keeping. I recently went through my childhood room with my mother as she and my dad got ready to move out, and I discovered several mostly empty diaries with only one or two overly-optimistic entries each.
At the start of this summer, I made myself a promise to do two things. I promised I would post an excerpt at the start of every week and I promised that I would successfully grow tomatoes in my backyard. I’ve managed to not kill a total of three puny tomatoes and I had a solid, month-long streak of weekly excerpt posts.
And then the tomatoes wilted and died and the blog posts came to a screeching halt. I’m nothing if not predictable, I suppose.
That being said, I’ve spent the summer spiraling towards my final publication deadline at a breakneck pace. July and August were full of hoop after hoop to jump through. I spent most of my time scouring through proofs with a highlighter and making last minute changes (and unleashing my angst over phone and email to my professors and my editor).
People have been contacting me asking me when the book will be available for purchase, and I’m thrilled to be getting so much support and enthusiasm from my family and friends. Still, there’s no hard or fast rule for when this kind of thing will be done, especially when you’re me and not finishing projects is something of a life-long vice.
The official book release date was meant to be this coming Monday. As of right now, everything is proofed and approved and ready to go. The fantastic team I’ve been working with is going through one, final round of interior changes and then the book will be made available on Amazon. I’ll be posting a triumphant message on all of social media when that happens, and then all that will be left will be the countdown to October’s official book launch in Boston.
Thanks to everyone who has been reading along and giving me words of encouragement all summer long. It’s taken twenty-five years for this girl to finish a project, but she finally did it (take that, empty diaries and basement full of half-finished Pinterest crafts!).
This summer has been a marathon, but I’m in the last leg of the race and I’m planning to sprint to the end. Get ready for Rogue Elegance, world.
In the meantime, here’s a little folk song from Emerala and Nerani’s world as an apology for the lack of excerpts:
Nolane’s Last Lament
The story is old,
The story is known,
And over the years, the rumors have grown.
A murderer caught,
A murderer tried,
Swung in the gallows, unable to die.
And if you were there,
And if you had seen,
You’d have witnessed the skies twisting to green.
Old Lachlan had killed
All children and men
And stolen the women back home to his bed.
His fate, it was set,
His rights, they were read,
And Lachlan was hung by his neck ‘till dead.
The clouds, they rolled in—
The seabirds took flight,
The day fell away and faded to night.
And down came the Wind
With a wretched old shriek;
And bade, then, the dead man to rise up and speak.
And Nolane cried tears
That scrambled the seas,
And sent all yon seamen down onto their knees.
And before the storm
Began to disperse,
Old Nolane begat one last vengeful curse:
“My lover will live,”
She said with a cry,
“And he who dares kill him is never to die.”
The story is old,
The whispers, they grow,
Where Lachlan is now, the dead men will know.