The Weight of a Book, the Light of a July Afternoon

Afternoon, Wednesday, July 2, 2025 – Miami, Florida
It’s a hot, muggy, and overcast summer afternoon here in southeastern Florida. Thankfully, while the atmosphere is heavy, the skies aren’t stormy—at least not at the moment. I did wake to the distant rumble of thunder, though. Tourists hoping for postcard-perfect sunshine might be disappointed; the Greater Miami area doesn’t always live up to the Tourism Bureau’s promises of endless sun (or Instagram-ready beachgoers). There’s a reason we locals refer to summer here as “the mean season.”

Today brought something bright despite the gray skies: I received my paperback copy of Comings and Goings: The Art of Being Seen: A Jim Garraty Story, which was officially released yesterday through Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing. I placed the order late Monday night—after the midnight UTC release window had passed—and less than 36 hours later, it was in my hands.

“Four books in, and I’m still quietly astonished to see my words bound and real.”

Alex Diaz-Granados, on the paperback edition of Comings and Goings

Because indie titles like mine are printed on demand rather than mass-produced like those from Penguin Random House or Hachette, Amazon doesn’t stock them in its global warehouses. When I lived in rural New Hampshire during my 10-month sojourn, delivery times for Reunion: A Story sometimes stretched to a week. Prime delivery just couldn’t stretch as far as the mountains and farmlands around Madison/Eidelweiss.

Here in the bustling heart of Miami, it’s a different story. My copy was printed in Orlando and delivered today—July 2—at precisely 12:59 PM EDT.

It’s a quiet but profound thrill to hold the printed version of my most recent work. It’s not just about royalties or the satisfaction of seeing my name on a cover—though those things do have their moments. It’s about the feel of it: the weight in my hands, the gentle sound of turning pages. That tactile connection somehow affirms that the story truly exists.

“Nothing warms a writer’s heart quite like holding a physical book in my hands.”

I’m usually a bit uneasy with early copies—too many memories of spotting typos or formatting hiccups after the fact. I can’t tell you how many copies of Reunion: A Story I went through from March 2023 (back when I lived on Florida’s Gulf Coast) to October 2024, just before I returned to Miami from New Hampshire. Each round seemed to reveal a new fix.

But this time feels different. With Comings and Goings, even after spotting one minor formatting issue in the Kindle edition, I haven’t felt compelled to immediately upload a correction. Maybe it’s because I genuinely believe this is among the best things I’ve ever written. That’s not a statement I make lightly.

So yes—the sky outside is gray. My heart, too, feels its usual July weight as the anniversary of my mother’s death approaches. And I still find the marketing side of self-publishing a Sisyphean chore. But holding this story—reading it, seeing how it breathes on the page—lifts my spirits like a soft light breaking through storm clouds.

“Even under gray skies, Comings and Goings lifts my spirit like a dawn after storm.”

If Reunion: A Story or Reunion: Coda spoke to you, I invite you to explore Comings and Goings. It’s a companion piece that can stand on its own, yet enriches the world and lives of characters you might already know. However you choose to read it—print or digital—I hope it offers a moment of connection and quiet discovery, as it has for me.