They call it, “writer’s hell”.

That time you spend alone in a room with your thoughts, pen, paper, or word processor, and you write. And then you write some more, And then some more. And then some more. It’s an act of creating something out of nothing, that you silently hope the reader will want to read. That’s where I’ve set up camp for the past week.

Why have I been in I’ve been in this self-imposed hell you ask?

I’ve been making you a present.

The Sunday Blog Book
In a couple of weeks I will be rolling out my first book. It’s going to be a collection of the Sunday Blogs for the past 10 years. To quote the Beatles, “I want to be a paperback writer…”.

When I write a post for The Sunday Blog, I rarely ever go back and look at it, I just move onto the next one. It’s been a strange few days going back over the pages of my past…remembering where I’ve been in my life, who I’ve been with or without, and then picking which of my children will live or die. Strange indeed.

My publisher and I are still working out the details, but I’m shooting for a $20 price point, and I’ve selected 40 blogs for it. It’s going to be available on Amazon (duh).

It still kind of amazes me that it’s happening, but it’s a good buzz. As any new author does, I hope to sell hundreds of millions of copies around the world, be interviewed by Oprah, and hit the NYT Best Seller list, but for now I do this for you guys and for the love of it. Like most of my life story, it’s just another accidental thumbprint.

I want to take this moment to just say “thanks”. Thanks for your continued support, and for your love and friendship. You have no idea just how much I appreciate each and every one of you. I’ll have more on the book and how you can get one if you’re interested soon. Until then, the road goes on forever and the party never ends…

Good luck and have a good week.

Joe Still
2023.11.05

Cite
“What really knocks me out is a book that, when you’re all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn’t happen much, though.”
– J. D. Salinger