March 1st, 2005



It's a strange thing, but after you have a novel picked up... everything remains the same.

Maybe I was expecting cute girls to parachute from the sky, crash through the window and offer themselves to me. If I was thinking that, then that's my business, and it was only a little thought. But still, you have this sense that something is different. That the world has changed. In the words of my Mother and Friends, "You're a real boy now," and that should make a difference, somehow. I had the same feeling when I sold my first bit of short fiction ten years ago, and I suppose the truth of it is that something did change, but it was merely an internal goal satisfied, and that does not result in cute girls who crash through your windows.

When I woke up this morning, I was the same guy, it was the same world, and A Walking Tour of the Dreaming City still needed to be finished. But that's okay. It's certainly a better way to spend my time than any number of shit jobs I've worked.
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