Last night I wrapped up my 102nd draft, my final, final draft of a really important book. This book is going to help a lot of people. This book is important. It’s compelling. It’s two years in the making. And it’s the most morose thing ever written. Does hospice have to be sad? NONONONONONONOOOOOOOOOO. It doesn’t. Hospice, writing about hospice, has to be honest. And if anyone who has, you know, been there, done that, is honest about it, hospice isn’t sad. It has its moments, for sure. I mean, if you’re going to read a book about hospice, you’ll probably want to start with a box of tissues at the ready, just in case. But great hospice experiences cover the whole emotional map.
This is why I called my brother at 10pm last night. Thankfully, he answered. Blessedly, he saw my point, was not offended, and agreed to help me out. You see, I had been noticing the white space at the end of some chapters in my book’s final, final proof, and I started thinking, What is missing? I’m a liker of white space, generally, but this time, the pages seemed to be saying, “Take it a little further,” and, “Go deeper,” and “C’mon, I dare you!” Okay, I’ll bite, I told those pages. I called up the only person I know who could do justice to my cause, he answered, and now we’re on our way. Cartoons. Yep, cartoons.
You can buy the book on Amazon.com right now. It’s called Hospice Isn’t a Place. But if you wait a couple weeks, the newest version will have cartoons. And it will be finished. At last.