Nearly 18 months after this long, crazy-making book-writing journey began, the day is finally upon me: My book on the craft beer revolution, Brewed Awakening, has finally been released. Thank heavens. Writing a book is a marathon, not the hourly blog-post sprint or even the leisurely monthly stroll to the finish line. I’ve been excited and angry, nervous and world-weary with this whole process. I’ve bitched. I’ve moaned. But you know what? Today, I couldn’t be happier.
Eleven years ago yesterday, I arrived in New York City with little more than a backpack and, well, not a single dream. I did not come here to make it big in journalism. I came here because my friend had a free bedroom in Astoria, and my only other option was going back to Ohio and sharing a bunk bed with my little brother.
But over time, I could not resist the trumpet call of journalism. Or maybe I was just sick of being a receptionist. No matter what, I’ve spent the last decade toiling away, taking assignments both terrible and terrific, writing so, so many words. However, that’s neither here nor there. What matters now is this: It’s November 1, and I’m holding my first book in my hands. It’s time to have a beer. Care to join me for a pint?