I am not sure why I cannot get more proud and excited about this book that is about to come out. It's not that I think it is bad, but I am more excited by the book I want to write next. That is good, because it is always best to think the next project is the best one. Your favorite book should be the one you haven't yet written.
Still, I just cannot seem to feel that joy. Maybe I am thinking too much that some people won't like it, or that it won't be as good as Apocryphal Lorca. This is kind of dumb, because the book has good things in it too. I wish I could simply argue myself into feeling differently about it. This great brilliant guy Jonathan Mayhew they describe in the publicity material just doesn't feel like me.