Okay, actually my agent sold it, to Harcourt Brace, and the lovely editor there.

I…err…I got nothin’. Dude. Sold a book. Dude.

I think I may actually be, like, a writer now or something. I may have to get over my “no, no, I’m an artist,” denial and just deal. I could cling to my belief that Digger and Black Dogs were just flukes and Sofawolf was publishing them out of kindness, but now I’ve sold a book to a major publisher who I don’t know personally, and it’s all over.



All else being equal, we’re looking at at least a year before you could see it in stores, and I have no idea of the exact time, so don’t ask. It’ll be hardcover first, then paperback a year later, probably in a format rather like the Lemony Snicket books.

We got quite a nice advance for a first-time children’s book, by which I mean “Almost as much as I net in a year on art.” (Granted, that’s not a huge number.) I get half on signing, half on delivery. I could get to like this whole writing thing.


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