Digging into some kind of an inner turmoil-vortex thing, realizing that everything I've done for the last four years of writing full-time was merely a warmup for real work and trying not to crumble from this idea. I had my third eye open for me, or something. And it's thrilling and terrifying at the same time. Here I thought I knew how to write books...and I hardly know anything. I'm just starting.