My first novel comes out this month, in case you somehow missed that news. And I'm elated, thrilled, excited...but also terrified.
All the fears and doubts that I thought would vanish when I finally, finally, had a "real" book remain. Only double. And public. What if no one buys it? What if it gets bad reviews? Or no reviews? And the flip side: What if it does really well? What if it's brilliant but it was a fluke which I can't replicate?
Oh, I know. It's a good problem to have, like choosing between vanilla and chocolate--either way you're getting ice cream. I count my blessings every day. I'd much rather worry about this than my lack of book. So many of my friends are talented, hard-working writers who just haven't made a book deal. And that's a result of bad timing, not lack of skill.
The point I'm trying to make is this: We're never happy. Silly humans. We're striving, grunting, climbing animals. There's always another mountain, a bigger fish.
That's why I love zombies. They know what they want (BRAINS!) and when they get it, they're content. At peace. Unworried. Zombies are Zen masters. We can all learn from our undead friends. Savor the brain in your hand.