I got my first copies of WHAT IMMORTAL HAND.
Writing is lonely and hard. It’s full of doubt and second guessing. It is years of working and waiting and wading through more rejection than normal human being should bare.
That is why when the box comes and the tape is pulled, the gleaming covers within shine like the rarest gold.
It is a magical moment, simple yet grand. It is the culmination blood sweat and tears, a rite of passage, a reward. It is vindication and redemption.
It is an idea become real.
Magick.
And it is damn cool.
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