There has been a lot of celebration this summer. In fact, except for a sixteen-day and night binge-drinking Tour to London in 1995 and a wet month in Thailand in 2003 I’ve never celebrated more.
The best reason for this, except for Life in general is that I’ve started publishing my novels, finally started in earnest. It hard for me to truly convey how much this means to me, what a thrill, a savage joy it is. Doing so is a reward in itself, but doing it, knowing the long and hard struggle behind it makes it thrice worthwhile and precious.
Yes, celebration is its own reward, but knowing the long walk behind it, makes it that much more explosive and fun. I’ve danced around the campfire in the wilderness, drunk myself into a stupor on Guiness and left pubs in ruins, in the deepest, darkest night and even in the grayest of days and sorrow. Lives have been ruined and transformed in the course of my wild celebration…
It has been a great summer.