Photo Fave: Central Park’s Alice in Wonderland sculpture – the first time

For the past several months, I’ve been coming to terms with how finishing a book is not like the metaphor of pregnancy and birth so many nice people suggest it is. Nope.

Sure, there is the frequent need to pop antacids and eat strange foods, the unpredictable mood swings, the feeling that you can never get good rest at night and need a nap most days, and as the due date gets closer you start to wonder how you can possibly last (or survive) another month at the rate you’ve been going–while in the back of your mind you keep wondering, “What is this new little creature going to look like?”