It's Alive! My Creature...Lives!

Woo-hoo! (Dancing round the room.) They're beautiful! (Holding book on high, gazing up at it.) Stunning! Fantastic! And, mine, all mine! It's my-- (Dances backwards over cliff and falls into river of fire...) --Pre-c-i-o-u-s-s-s-s-s-s!


Sorry, sorry. Don't you hate those Gollum moments?

Actually, the books came about midday, and I posted two of them off to folks who may write reviews. Since then I've just admired them. From various angles. In various lighting schemes. Haven't really had the courage to read any of it yet, though I did glance through to see if anything was obviously printed upside down, or if sections of The Da Vinci Code had insinuated themselves. (So far, everything right-side up, and no DVC.) And I read the paired epigraphs, which are pretty damn good. (But, then, those two are from the Book of Exodus and WB Yeats, respectively. Reliable sources.)

The visual impact of the cover doesn't really come across in photos. From the start, both Will and Sophie have used the word "stunning," and I can't come up with a better one. The cover art is peculiarly luminescent, and I once again thank heavens that I wasn't put in charge of design, or we'd have something far more pedestrian.

What is so bizarre is the blatant multiplicity of it all. I mean, sure--I knew in principle that they intended to print more than one copy. But seeing a stack of them, even a modest stack, brings it all home. This is a book. One that might be picked up and read--oh please pray god--by total strangers. Not to mention how nicely it sits atop the whole MNW pile...

Shock and Awe is fatter than I expected. (Why am I surprised? I do have a tendency to go on and on.) Indeed, I might have been alarmed were it not for the fact that I was preceded by Annabel Dore's The Great North Road, which is a regular Moby Dick of a book.

And there I am, atop the stack of Macmillan New Writing books. Not there for long, of course, as LC Tyler and then Faye L Booth will be piled on top of me soon. But, still, what a stack. (Sorry if your book doesn't show to better advantage. Shiny little guys, aren't they?)

I'm #23 in the line-up. Which, according to the late-Victorian numerologist Cheiro, is "A very fortunate number. It indicates success, help from superiors and protection from those in high places. A most fortunate number in dealing with future events." (LC Tyler and Faye Booth, take note: 24 and 25 are pretty spiffy numbers, too.)

Okay. Sweet. But I'm avoiding confusion by not paying attention to the Wikipedia entry on the topic. Or to the Jim Carrey movie, which I haven't seen. So please don't disabuse me of my wild romantic notions. For the moment, I'm pretty happy.