Happy ART OF DETECTION day!
The publication day for a new book is a time of tension for a writer. (Although come to think of it, when ISN’e2’80’99T a time of tension for a writer?) Yes, the PW, Kirkus, Booklist and Library Journal reviews are in, and positive, but now the newspapers wait in the wings, pens sharpened. And there’e2’80’99s the question of numbers’e2’80’94will devout Russell fans spurn this book because it has Kate in it? Will Martinelli readers scorn to buy it because it has Holmes in it? Will I be flamed by Sherlockians, because Holmes speaks in it? Or will the book simply fall into a black hole and never be heard from again, causing my publisher to curse my name and cancel my contract so that I have to live in my car with my mother, my husband, and my two cats? (The kids have their own cars.)
This is my baby, whom I’e2’80’99ve lived with since September, 2004. I’e2’80’99ve labored over it, fallen in love with it, hated it, despaired over it, sweated and chuckled and obsessed over it, written and rewritten and changed and polished, turned loose and snatched back and perfected and wondered over. It was finally given a name, after long discussion and the rejection of a hundred possibilities, and then cover art came and the baby had a face and a name. The page proofs left my desk in October, and theoretically THE ART OF DETECTION was finished, but even then I found goofs and blew up over the wrong font used in the Holmes typescript section and fielded typo queries from the proofreaders and early readers of the ARC.
And then it shipped, and landed in the stockrooms of bookstores around the country. And today the booksellers have unpacked them and displayed them on the shelves, and patrons walking by the New Books shelves will spot the cover, and’e2’80’a6
Thank you all for your kind words this past year, and I hope you absolutely love the book.