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Writing historical fiction: sometime journal of a New York City novelist

the first copies of my new novel...

...came to my door yesterday. They are so beautiful I can hardly believe it. It seems like mine and yet separate from me. In one hour I feel I am grasping it against me, and the next hour that I have begun to let it go. How can something with so much love and tears and sharing and joy and research and so forth now be between book covers? And it is like this for every author, or anyone who at last sees a long and heart-felt project come to completion.

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