Speaking of which, last of all, I’d like to thank myself. Because I did it. I wrote a novel. It doesn’t matter how many I’ve written before this, or how many I’ll write after—it’s still a wonder I wrote this one. I did something I didn’t think I could do. I put the Technicolor fluff in my head into ink-colored words on the page. It’s a wonder. I hope this feeling never goes away.
