In my hot little hands

Yesterday, for the first time ever, I got to hold my novel in my hot little hands. It was a totally surreal feeling - to skim through an actual novel and see my words, my sentences, my paragraphs -- staring back at me. At times it doesn't seem like it could possibly be real. Yet here it is. My dream as a tangible object I can pick up and read.

I have a book. A real book. Weird.

Now all I have to do is get people to read it....
Marianne