Temporary? Insanity

Last night, I closed the cover of this book (The Hound of Rowan), let out a satisfied sigh, and squirmed with delight. Neil was tip-tapping away on his laptop, and let out a sigh of his own. He knew what my sigh meant. It meant I was about to talk his ear off. Fortunately for him I knew what his sigh meant, so I merely grinned and wandered away, keeping the deliciousness of my recent experience to myself.

Well, mostly to myself. My wandering lead me downstairs to the computer and, being the nosy sort I am, I promptly looked up the author who’d so thoroughly captivated my imagination.

Henry H. Neff. I read through a blurb or two, and then caught sight of a date which, in all honesty, sent a ripple of dismay through me. 2007. The book had been published in 2007. Now, I didn’t faint or anything but I did get awfully upset. Normally I start a series after it’s been completed.

Patience and me? We get along much the same way a lemur and a killer whale would.

Not only am I not the patient type, I’m a coward by nature as well. Having recently gotten to know a few published authors through the wonder that is the web though, I’ve come to realize that they are, in fact, human beings like the rest of us. So I thought, hey, why not send the guy an e-mail and tell him how fabulously talented he is?

So I did.

And he wrote back. People, not only is he an amazingly gifted writer and illustrator, whose intricate yet entertaining storytelling had me so enraptured I sometimes forgot to breathe as I read, he’s nice too.

So I want you to go out and buy this book. And read it. And love it. Because I’m tired of being the only one I know who’s read it.

I’m serious about this. I may even shun you if you don’t.