Penultimate is one of my favorite words, mostly because the only reason it exists is because someone like me said, "You know what I love? Not just the thing itself, but I love the thing right before that last part."
I love the wedding rehearsal. That's when I cry. I love dress rehearsal, too, for the insane jitters and excitement. I loved my practice marathon even more than the real thing, even though both were 26.2 miles.
And I love getting the advanced readers copies of my new books in the mail. It's even more exciting that the actual real copies themselves. (If you have any interest in watching how freaking crazy I freaked right the freak out when I saw my first ARCs, you can click here.)
ARCs are Not For Sale. They are often not pretty, being wrapped in plain paper. They have typos, sometimes brand new ones! But they are you, when you wake up in the morning, unshowered, no makeup, really YOU, so incredibly gorgeous with those flaws in that fragile human body.
I feel so tenderly toward my ARCs, especially this one, the book of my heart. I'm sending Kate, such a flawed mother, out into the world. Nolan, sweet, broken Nolan, will be seen by the public. And their daughter Pree . . . *falls to the ground wailing* My babies! *clutches books to breast*
I'm giving my last five away, randomly drawn in seven days on Tuesday the 21st. Two will go to people who comment on this post and three will go to people drawn from my mailing list. Take care of them if you get them, would you? For me?