The best moments come when you least expect them.
I was in London last week, visiting my publishers to talk about plans for my new book The Secret Life of Daisy Fitzjohn (Brightwood in the US). It was a lovely meeting. The book had been difficult to write. It had gone through multiple drafts and there had been times when I felt sure it was doomed. But now it was done, all laid out and looking beautiful.
After the meeting I went down in the elevator, handed in my ID tag at reception and got my coat. It wasn’t until I was on the steps outside that it hit me: After all the false starts and wrong turns and rewrites and changes and edits and further edits, the book was actually finished.
I sat down, clutching the proofs on my lap. I was on the Embankment, with the distant shape of Tower Bridge to my left and the London Eye to my right, and the broad dark river running in between. It was nearly dusk and lights were starting to come on along the water’s edge. A warm wind blew my hair into my eyes.
The book was actually finished!
The best moments come when you least expect them. They find you at odd times and in ordinary places. In the hallway, on a train, walking down the street. On your way or coming back again. Seated on a dusty step, alone with your happiness, watching the river go by.
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