My first book came out today, and I couldn’t be more excited. On the outside, I’m a bit jangly, fueled by espresso and a double-shot of pure joy. But believe it or not, inside of me, there’s a quiet sense of calm, fed by gratefulness and wonder.
Because Tracked is the book that almost wasn’t. It almost wasn’t written, and it almost didn’t make it this far. It’s a bundle of my imperfections, eighty thousand words or so, folded up and sharply creased. It’s my little paper boat, set out on the water.
And that little boat–my debut–may not reach an ocean of readers. It might disappear, whisked into the gutter of a vast and indifferent universe. It may travel a little while, jostled and bouyed by the same. It may find good company–other boats, tracking a course, alongside mine…some bigger, some smaller, some carrying the same dream.
And my dream? My dream is that mine finds yours, that my story somehow resonates with you, and becomes something new, unfolded in your hands. It’s my deepest hope that Phee’s story–the story of Tracked–is transformed by your own unique experiences and imagination, into something just for you.
But if my words don’t make it that far, I am happy still. I’ll keep making paper boats and sending them out into the great, big wide. Each one, I’ll put on the current, in the hopes that it finds you.