For much of last year I worked on a book that took me deep inside the world of 1871 Philadelphia—the clank of Baldwin machines, the boats on the
Schuylkill, the innards of Eastern State Penitentiary, the rattle of a newsroom, the world of William, first introduced in
Dangerous Neighbors.
I wrote a book. My husband made drawings. And then I stood back and thought. What next?
Today I am having a preliminary meeting about this book of mine, this character I love, this Philadelphia to which I will always be true. I don't know what will happen, but I do know this: Sometimes we have to step away to know what it is we should be stepping toward.
Published on February 17, 2012 04:26