Just this afternoon, I sold my new novel to Reagan Arthur at Little, Brown. The title of the book, for now, anyway, is Next (and yes, I know all about the Michael Crichton novel and the Nicholas Cage movie of the same name. Great minds think alike, okay?).
Reagan edited The Lecturer's Tale when she was at Picador, so I'm thrilled to be working with her again. And Little, Brown, of course, is a legendary American publishing house, which, at one of the scale, published Emily Dickinson, and at the other end of the scale, is now publishing, well, me, Mr. Ghost-Cat-Office-Zombie-Magic-Finger Boy. Probably best not to dwell too long on that dialectic.
And all credit to my agent, whom I'm not entirely certain wants his name mentioned in the semi-public setting of my dopey blog. Suffice it to say that he's a prince and a mensch and the Hardest Working Man in Show Business.
I don't know yet when the book's coming out. Hey, this just happened today. And no, I'm not going to say anything about the book itself just yet, except to mention that the accompanying picture, of the pedestrian bridge over the Colorado River in Austin, Texas, is the setting for a pivotal scene in the story.
In the meantime, I'm pretty geeked. I've been to the rodeo before, of course, but selling a novel never gets old.
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