So, I moved back home. Back to Manhattan, land of my birth and of my grudging love, affection and respect. Back to the insanity of subway construction, snow, sleet and sludge, and all the memories good and bad that go with this place. I’ve left the land of manana in the realm of yesterday, and I’m off to new-old things.

I won’t go into the whys and wherefores. Suffice it to say there were reasons, and I hope they were good ones. Once the daffodils begin to poke their heads out in Central Park, I know I’ll feel excitement for the future, but for now I’m mostly grateful for good friends, good food (sayonara, green chile!), and, most recently, for finishing the copy edits on LAST CHANCE LLAMA RANCH, which is in really great shape and nearly ready for its August pub date.

I don’t tend to toot my own horn, but I really feel this book is my best work to date. As I write each novel, I learn something new about the craft, and after 7 complete works of over 100,000 words each, I feel I’m beginning to come into my strengths as a writer and shake some sloppy habits. I’m so excited for it to go out into the world and find its audience.

Meanwhile, I go out into the (still!) frozen tundra in search of bagels. Because I can.