I know I've already posted this image on the front page of my website but I feel like I should give it a proper moment in the sun so here we go. My Beating Teenage Heart's next incarnation, as a paperback, will look like this when it hits shelves in late September:
I liked the mysterious way Ashlyn looked in the hardcover but this is cool in a different way (while still being ethereal) and makes me think of the Moby song We Are All Made of Stars, which in turn makes me think of Finn Kavanagh from One Lonely Degree since she listens to it in Chapter 9. Yes, it's weird being a writer. Songs and places can remind you of fictional people!
The great Mic Christopher's ruminations on his relationship to his songs in Skylarkin' aptly describe my feelings about my books:
“...my songs don't know that I exist
And though I give them life it is
A friendship that will never grow
My songs are friends I'll never know”
And with that I'm going to disappear for awhile again. Now that I'm about 80% free from a winter cold (although how I could catch a winter cold when there's barely been a winter, I don't know) there's a certain manuscript I've been obsessing about in my thoughts that I need to get back to. I can't say much about it at the moment, but here's a snippet from page two:
“Maybe none of that sounds earth-shattering, but it was to me. His voice. His fingers on the guitar. His perfect wrists. The intensity with which he loved music, as though it was something sacred. Every time he walked into a room he made it feel like a more interesting place. What could be bigger than that?”
