The blurbs are starting to come in. Blurbs are a funny thing. The ones you get always say you and your book are the greatest thing since sliced bread, and pretty much mean it; no one's going to risk alienating his/her own fans by recommending a book he/she hated. And you try not to take personally the ones you don't get. Writer's etiquette calls for no response at all, or a "Sorry, my schedule doesn't permit." No one ever says, "I read it but I didn't like it so I'm not going to give you a quote." Occasionally, if the prospective blurber has a relationship with your editor (who's the one who does the requesting) he/she might feel obliged to explain to the editor why no blurb, but if it's because he/she hated it your editor won't tell you. So all you ever know is, so-and-so didn't blurb your book. Often writers really don't have time to read the galley by the deadline, which is almost always short. Sometimes a writer will feel overexposed, having given a lot of quotes lately. Sometimes they're in Zanzibar and don't come home until your deadline is long past. So you try not to take personally the ones you don't get, remembering the rational reasons you yourself have had over the years for ones you didn't give.

And most of the time, except at 3 a.m. when you're lying awake wondering why you're on this earth, you succeed. At 3 a.m. you remember the blurbs you yourself didn't give because you hated the book. And you know in your heart that so-and-so didn't give you a quote because so-and-so hated your book, hated all your previous books, and probably hates you, too, for having the gall to ask. And at 3 a.m. you also know in your heart that so-and-so is right.