After four and a half years of writing, re-writing, re-re-writing and a massive case of Repetitive Strain Injury from all that typing… I received a printed copy of my book last week.  Here it is:

It was a very strange moment, holding a ‘proper’ book in my hands and seeing my words inside.  A week later and it still doesn’t seem quite real.

I was taking a photo for the Freaks facebook page, and thought the book would look good nestled among some of the many drafts, notes, plans and scribbles that had gone into it.  It wasn’t until I had spread some of it out over the bed that I actually realised just how much time and effort I had put into this thing.  Although it weighs in at just 242 pages, I must easily have written two or three times that amount in total.  I dread to think how many hours and sleepless nights I’ve sunk into it as well.  Just goes to show that plodding along, even when it sometimes seems pointless, can be worth it in the end.