I was an army brat, and so I moved a lot as a kid. I love moving. This time of year, it's so gorgeous in Nebraska. The trees are full and green. I teach in a little town thirty minutes out of Omaha, and the past few weeks, on my drive in, I'm a little distracted by how many of the houses along the main streets I covet. Most of them are older. There are some farmhouse style houses, a few old Victorians, a saltbox or two. I want all of them. I'm especially drawn to this house with a big wide porch with all these hanging ferns and full blooming planters on every step. It feels so settled, so permanent. I guess part of it is that spring feels so transitional, and this year, especially so. It's been a strange few months, a busy few months, so busy that I haven't really talked about any of it here. The short version is that in February, my novel sold. (This is not the novel that I have talked about here, though it is the novel that precipitated my move to fiction just a few years ago.) And then there were a few very intense rounds of revision and on Monday, my editor said yes, we're done, this is it. So, that's that.

I guess I'm not technically moving anywhere, but my novel is. It's moving out and on. Maybe it'll come to your house? Right now, I just feel like I'm going to miss it.

(The long version is not much longer, but it's more official sounding. Monsters: A Love Story will be published by Putnam in summer of 2016.)