I’m sitting here trying to think of the right words to explain what this past Tuesday—Hounded publication day—felt like. And I’m struggling. Probably because publication day brought so many different and surprising feelings to the surface, that it’s hard to distill it into a single, snappy sound bite.

Happy? A no-brainer. Of course I was happy. Excited? Naturally. Nervous? I’ll cop to it: more than a little. But, I also felt regret over the fact that my parents weren’t here to share in my good fortune. I felt a sense of loss that the words I nurtured and sweated over for almost a year are no longer mine to tailor and tweak. But, I also felt hopeful. Hopeful that people would come to know, even in a small way, my three, wonderful dogs Baxter, Maya and Molly. And, of course, I felt lucky to have so many people extend kind words of congratulations via email, Facebook and Twitter. I’ve never met the vast majority of these people. I don’t care. If someone on the other side of the country, or the other side of the world, can take a few seconds out of their lives to acknowledge a pretty big moment in mine, I sure as hell can say “Thank you!” And, I did. And, I do.

There was no launch party. No hors d’oeuvres to be nibbled or glasses to be raised. The closest thing to a cocktail napkin around here, Tuesday, was a piece of paper towel that I used to mop-up a minor accident – courtesy of Maya. For those who know me well, the fact that there was no big celebration will come as no surprise. I celebrated, as is my want: with my wife, my daughter and my dogs. And there might have been a piece of cake involved.

Hounded was written in solitude. It seemed wholly appropriate – at least to me – that it enter the world in the same silence.