It’s not just the working title of my next, and as I tell myself, last book. The phrase, almost, not quite, soon enough, could mean a lot of things, to me, to you, to just about anybody. For today, for right this minute, as I write this post, what it means to me is, I’m very close to no longer giving a fuck.
Almost.
The way it feels today, for right this minute, as I write this post, is, my skin is not quite thick enough to keep what’s tender inside of me, safe.
Not quite.
I love me some fiction. The world-building kind. But not the magnum opus, Stephen King, Black Tower kind. Not the Bruce Wayne, Gotham TV show, binge all five seasons during the dark days of the spring of 2020 kind. And not the I have an outline of some dystopian mega-novel that is burning a hole in my gut just trying to get out kind, either. More like the Rod Serling kind. More like the Richard Matheson kind. Shit, more like the ten-page short-story that any kid in a twenty-dollar writing workshop could scribble out in the sixty-minute open writing portion of an afternoon, following the complimentary coffee and Danish, after a cold read of the syllabus, put together by someone with an A.A. degree in General Studies from an online community college.
Soon enough.
Almost, not quite, soon enough, I won’t have the nerve endings left to feel the sting of an opinion, different than my own. About the world, about my work, about what others think about the way I write, hell, about who does or doesn’t wish me a happy birthday on Facebook, because who even uses Facebook, anymore. I think that’s what I’ve been waiting for, before I begin doing what I’ve always had an idea was that ONE THING I was forever supposed to do, for which I have been waiting, until.
No more teases for now. I’ll let everyone know when the book drops, sometime next year. And, should that ONE THING happen like I want, I will be very loud about that, too.
Talk to you tomorrow.
William S. Friday 
It’s a good title. Looking forward to the rest…
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Looking forward to it 💕🙏
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Never lose that part of you. It has a huge positive impact on people you’ve never met in person, who live hundreds of miles away, who are unwell (for lack of a better term), and even though they are trying again to see if they can live on the surface at least (wishing they could swim deep like they used to)… even though their surface voice isn’t strong or loud – the love and gratitude very much are. Your fucks are needed, sir.
And thank you for texting me today and being so kind about my lack of ability to dive for so long.
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Oh this will be a good read.
“my skin is not quite thick enough to keep what’s tender inside of me, safe.”
I can relate to that, for sure, on some days–or all of them. One never knows until the moment when….
intriguing title. 🙂
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