Last night at about 9:30 on a Queens-bound G train, I was struck by a realization: exactly one year had passed since I finished the first draft of my book.  How coincidental, then - and how fitting - that the first real start of my formal professional feedback came that afternoon, too.  Talk about coming full circle.  On a boat somewhere in the Caribbean Sea one year, and in a completely deserted subway car on the elevated tracks over Ninth Street the next.  My heart still beating for the same reason.

I will get there.  I have to.