Right from the moment I sat down to begin, Wish felt different than the other novels I had written. Not my typical genre, Wish was a step out of my comfort zone, though a necessary step as my comfort zone wasn’t getting my anywhere.

My brother solidified that “different feeling” with something he told me after reading the first draft. As we canoed back to shore after tussling with some bass and bluegill on a beautiful northern Michigan summer evening, he said, “How does it feel to know that this will be the first book you get published?” I confess, I didn’t think so at the time, thinking back to the stack of rejection letters at home for my other stuff. And I really would’ve shot his notion down had I known at that time how many rejection letters I would go on to compile for Wish before it found a home through a whirlwind series of events.

But maybe he was right. Maybe that’s why everything felt different. I must’ve known it, subconsciously anyway, because this was the first book I had written in which I kept a journal of the process, from when I began, to today, as the publication date draws near. It’s not an everyday sort of thing, mostly something I tap out quickly when significant events happen.

And it’s not under lock and key like my daughter’s diary. So over the course of the next several months leading up to publication — and whatever exciting events happen afterward and wherever this whole ordeal might lead — I’ll share some of those journal entries with you.