What if they don't like my friends?

I've had this close circle of friends for several years now. We would get together on random afternoons and share a cup of coffee, sometimes a meal, and they would tell me what was going on in their world, their stories, their experiences. I celebrated with them, I cried with them, I laughed with them. It has been an intensely intimate relationship and I know them almost as well as I know myself. I should, because their stories flowed from that great other place where imagination thrives through my mind, heart, and fingers into this world.

Charlie, the hulking lost soul sitting on a stump in nowhere Texas.

Maze, the bold, curvy girl chasing her dreams on the streets of Manhattan.

Hedy, the fiercest little person I've ever met.

Spencer, the silver eyed party crasher who only lets you in so far.

Veronica, the golden eyed siren of Times Square.

And Stephen. Sweet, Stephen, who, though his head is "broke", his heart is open and caring even to the smallest of creatures.

I love these people and I'm terrified for them. On Tuesday, May 18, the Six becomes available for anyone who wishes to read it. And you know what? I'm not terribly concerned about who likes or dislikes the book, but let's face it, I want all of you to love it. I find myself far more anxious about how my friends will be received or . . . gulp . . . rejected. I'm telling you, Maze won't handle it well and you better be ready for that shit.

And art is imitating life. In a little over a year, I'm about to do the same thing with my oldest son. He's going to launch into the world, heading off to university somewhere in Europe. I'll be entrusting his heart to people I don't know, hoping he builds relationships with friends and professors who will guide him, listen to him, encourage him, and be there when he needs them.

Shit. I need a drink.

When May 18th hits, take care of my friends, the Six. Join their story at Amazon.

Later.