The Whatchamacallit (The Rorschach!)
Okay, enough fooling around. If I don’t talk about chocolate a little more here, I’m never going to be able to convince the IRS I should be able to tax deduct all the chocolate I eat.
This is one of those whatchamacallits, where the psychologist shows you a weird vague image and lets you tell what it looks like to you.
(Why can’t I remember the word for this? Someone in the comments, please tell me the word, so that I can sneak it back in and pretend words never fail me.) (Edit: Rorschach! Thank you, Amy.)
Anyway, what does this picture look like to YOU? Gloating? Or woeful?
(The last shards of a bouquet of L’Atelier du Chocolat chocolate, fished out of the bottom of the bouquet wrapper. More on L’Atelier du Chocolat soon.)
This picture symbolizes ME right now, or rather me and my relation to my book LA VIE EN ROSES. I sure enjoyed this book while it lasted. And it is ALL GONE.
I packed up and sent final hard copies to my agent yesterday, and now we shall see what we shall see.
Now I’m trying to juggle two new books until one pulls ahead; one is deep but bright, the other silky and darker, but not a bad way darker, more like 80% chocolate. Again, we shall see!
So I miss LA VIE EN ROSES already, but I’ve been bouncing around with a swing in my step over it. It’s odd to feel so happy about a book right after finishing it. Usually that’s the moment of sinking self-doubt.