I am on Cloud 9.
No, I am beyond Cloud 9, looking down on it in fact. *
I had to stop reading at that point and take deep breaths while pinching myself. I am as insecure and fragile as everyone else is. My biggest nightmare was that I’d finally get a review from a classy organization like this and it would say something like “trashy and disappointing.”
Moving on, the reviewer–Steve Shaw–describes the story and my writing with phrases like:
“Kall recreates the climate of impending disaster and gives voice to the trampled tribes. There is an air of unexpected and tenuous mystery that adds flavor to this novel . . .”
“Kall’s writing is quite impressive, showing considerable craft . . . “
Bliss. Utter bliss. Please forgive me this indulgence; I know it adds nothing to your knowledge of ancient Gaul. But I am one happy camper right now.
* Cloud 9 actually doesn’t have anything more going for it than Cloud 7 or 8, according to this exploration of the origin of the phrase.