Working with a member of The Eight today felt like a first date, as in the first date ever in my life. The early moments were anxious and awkward. I might have drooled. Yes, I wanted the meeting, but all the same, I could wait another day. Or week. While I felt decent about the manuscript, one can never be one hundred percent certain of what one wrote. Did I neglect key points? A few minor ones, yes. Was the narrative lacking clarity or flow? Only in very small tracts.

The real win: the meeting eradicated my biggest fear, that based on reader feedback, months of hard revisions lay ahead. Not that the effort is a problem, it’s just that deep down, I considered the manuscript 90-95 percent in the pocket. And that was certainly one of The Eight’s opinion. Good thing, because to hear that it was 75 percent there was not something I could stomach, even over Eggs Benedict and sausage.

Tonight I shall sleep, and not dream about a suck story secretly replacing mine.

Dean Koontz is loved in Belgium and Italy.

Author defends his ‘Mr. Teriyaki’ anecdote as merely humor.

The first feedback review with one of the Eight is at 9am EST at a local diner. Curiosity and terror are the words for the day. Perhaps Eggs Benedict will soothe the unsettled critter within.

Had a hard time sleeping this weekend, partly over the unknown, partly over the fact The Wife banned computer use. Her decree was just and reasonable, but the withdrawal was no less painful. In place of writing this weekend, I lived.

Must do that again…