Chicago Rocked update

This afternoon, I burned the final draft of “Chicago Rocked” and other relevant documents onto a DVR to turn in to my publisher. I also boxed up mountains of paperwork and hardcopy photos to bring in, too.

So…how do I feel? Queasy. I spent the past year slavishly and sleeplessly working on the book, sacrificing untold amounts of personal and family time, making endless phone calls and sending endless emails, and type-type-typing away. After all that time and effort, I now have to subject my work to the scrutiny of others. The thing about most non-fiction books is that deals are made on a proposal, not a finished manuscript. That means that all my publisher has seen since we first met is a five-page document outlining my general plans for the book and a corresponding marketing proposal. As a first-time author, I have a horrible fear that once I turn the book in I’ll hear, “Well, the proposal sure was nice, but your book reeks of hackery and has as much saleability as a flaming turd. Consider our contract null and void…loser.” Come to think of it, there’s probably a hole in the marketplace, and therefore an enthusiasm, for flaming turds.

I don’t know what comes next. I imagine a lot of back-and-forth involving edits and clarification. Then, down the road, looking at proofs of the book. And lots of marketing and getting the word out starting in a few months.

Since my book covers lots of people and bands, I feel a heartfelt pity for whomever the publisher’s lining up to work on an index. That’s going to be a painstaking process on a fun par with high school Calculus. The “indexer” will probably curse my name by the time he or she is 20 pages in.

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