I am making the last changes in my manuscript before my next book, The Scarred Pianist, will be sent off to the printers. It feels a bit unreal – the world is on fire and I am chasing commas. But if I don’t do the best I can at work (and elsewhere), who shall do it then?
Good enough might be something one has to accept sometimes, but should it be something to STRIVE for? No, not really. So I keep chasing commas, one after the other, all in order to make for a good reading experience.
Because I believe in books. Now more than ever. And music. All kinds of artistic expressions that can soothe or explain, amuse or inspire to laughter. We need to laugh in these days. Even if it is dark. Even AT darkness.