Not
including little fits and starts of journal writing and experimentation
that date back to my undergraduate days, I've been working in earnest
on BORROWED HORSES since 2004. It's hard to believe all that work is
coming to an end, and that by Monday, I'll have a mostly *final* draft. I
feel like I could keep tinkering forever, still seeing imperfections
and wanting to patch them. I may be starting to feel a little separation
anxiety. Can any book ever realize the author's dream of the book?