The Faintly Metallic Taste of Hope

I was printing out a copy of Eighth Grade Bites this morning to ship off to a fantastic, amazing author who's agreed to take a look (and maybe, if the stars align, give me a blurb) and received an enormous surprise.

As the printer spit the pages out, I'd capture a few in my hands and place them in a neat little pile. Well, see, it takes a while for even my lightning-paced printer to print 150 pages, so while I was waiting and organizing, I found myself reading some. And that's when the big surprise came.

I don't remember this book.

I remember writing it, yes, what happens, yes, but I'd forgotten how funny certain parts are and how engaging others are. In short, I really enjoyed the parts I read. And that gives me hope that others will enjoy it too.

Of course, it's possible that the world will show up at my door with the obligatory torches and pitchforks, demanding that I give up my budding career as a writer...but if they do, I have a few choice words for them.

Mainly, bite me.