I've never really understood the big deal about New Year's Day. Some of my friends really love it, see it as a sort of cosmic do-over, a fresh start, a chance to resolve to be better.
I pretty much see it as Monday. If pressed, I'll add that it's the day after my son's birthday (the moment he took his first breath, 23 years ago, New Year's Eve ceased to have any meaning for me either). It's the day I get to open my new Dilbert-A-Day calendar--my husband's given me a Dilbert-A-Day calendar for as long as I can remember, probably longer than my son's been alive.
Last year the only resolution I made was to finally go out to lunch with one particular friend. We kept saying we were going to meet for lunch, and then not doing it. I'm happy to say that not only did I keep this resolution, I made a habit of it. Lunch with XXX is now a Thing.
I have a book to finish in 2018. ("Finish?" my daughter asked, yesterday. "Finish, or finish-finish. Copyedited finish?") (Her Christmas gift to me was a t-shirt reading Unreliable Narrator. I loved it.)
The answer is, finish-finish. Yes, it is. And no, this book is not the third one about Ada. I can not promise a third book about Ada. A bad book would be much worse than no book at all.
Also, I'm sorry to say this, but the character who dies in TWIFW is dead. Dead-dead. I make up the rules for this particular cast of characters and it never once occurred to me that this person was not entirely dead, until I started getting conspiracy-theory letters from readers who were hoping, really hoping, that this character was not really dead and that in the mythical third book would walk up the cottage's front path to the amazement and heartfelt joy of all. (Please to note: I took the spoilers out. )
It won't happen. But thank you, thank you so much, for wanting it to. Your connection with all my characters, with Susan, with Lady Thorton, Maggie and especially my dear Ada, brings me both amazement and heartfelt joy.
Whatever this day means to you, I wish you a good one.
I pretty much see it as Monday. If pressed, I'll add that it's the day after my son's birthday (the moment he took his first breath, 23 years ago, New Year's Eve ceased to have any meaning for me either). It's the day I get to open my new Dilbert-A-Day calendar--my husband's given me a Dilbert-A-Day calendar for as long as I can remember, probably longer than my son's been alive.
Last year the only resolution I made was to finally go out to lunch with one particular friend. We kept saying we were going to meet for lunch, and then not doing it. I'm happy to say that not only did I keep this resolution, I made a habit of it. Lunch with XXX is now a Thing.
I have a book to finish in 2018. ("Finish?" my daughter asked, yesterday. "Finish, or finish-finish. Copyedited finish?") (Her Christmas gift to me was a t-shirt reading Unreliable Narrator. I loved it.)
The answer is, finish-finish. Yes, it is. And no, this book is not the third one about Ada. I can not promise a third book about Ada. A bad book would be much worse than no book at all.
Also, I'm sorry to say this, but the character who dies in TWIFW is dead. Dead-dead. I make up the rules for this particular cast of characters and it never once occurred to me that this person was not entirely dead, until I started getting conspiracy-theory letters from readers who were hoping, really hoping, that this character was not really dead and that in the mythical third book would walk up the cottage's front path to the amazement and heartfelt joy of all. (Please to note: I took the spoilers out. )
It won't happen. But thank you, thank you so much, for wanting it to. Your connection with all my characters, with Susan, with Lady Thorton, Maggie and especially my dear Ada, brings me both amazement and heartfelt joy.
Whatever this day means to you, I wish you a good one.
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