My first book will be launched this week at my local independent bookstore. Fliers have been printed and posted, and friends and
family have been invited. It is an exciting thing to contemplate, and one that
comes with a good deal of anxiety as well. This week I have been digging
through the book, looking for passages to read from, and already hearing my
words in new and different ways.

When I began the first stories in the book several years
ago, I had a much different perspective of what launching a book would be like.
At the time, I looked at the publication of a book as the culmination of
something – a finish line of sorts. Now, I realize that the release of this
work is not the end, but simply another milestone along the way.

The book will not “exist” until some one picks it up and
begins to read it. This process, the “second act” of creation, will result in
wildly different personal interpretations, evaluations and imaginings of the
words set on the page. It is now out of my hands. I have done my half of the
work, and now the readers (and I hope they are many) complete the process.

Writing is a very solitary profession. I have participated
in countless workshops, conferences, classes, and writing groups over the years
– and these have been helpful to my craft, as well as to my development as a
writer. But in the end, it is work done alone, and asks of a writer a great
deal of risk and responsibility. In the end, we must own what we write.

It is not the work of a single person however. On every page,
there is tangible evidence of others. This begins with people I’ve known (and
many I have not) and the stories of their lives, from which I’ve borrowed
heavily. Some may recognize a glimpse of themselves on the page. Several did
not live long enough to see their stories in print. There are others as well: colleagues,
mentors, workshop mates, creative writing students, published and unpublished
authors, friends, family members, publishers, and editors, those who rejected
my work and those who encouraged it, all who have knowingly or unwittingly
affected my writing.

Then there are the people I have met along the way (and
those I’ve not yet encountered) that are already helping me write the next
stories. And of course, the readers, who will write and re-write the stories of
my book in a way that suits them.

And so, into the world go my stories, and with them all of
those who shaped, informed and inspired them. 
To all of them, I am grateful.