My author copies of The Bridge arrived today. My new puppy Eleanor barked as I opened the boxes, in either fear or excitement. The book sits on the desk as I write this.  My fourth book and third novel, this time it is an out-of-body experience. Previous books arrived in similar boxes and it was euphoric, terrifying, victorious, or any happy-dance-air-punching combination of the above. But this time it’s different. I look at The Bridge and it looks back and me and any minute one of us is going to say, “Wait. Do I know you?”