On Writing and Storytelling: The Anticipation Before the Release

Monday, July 13, 2026 – Orlando, Florida

“The idea of waiting for something makes it more exciting.” — Andy Warhol

There’s a particular stillness to a mid-July afternoon in Central Florida — not quiet, exactly, but suspended. The heat presses in from all sides, the humidity turns the air into something you can almost touch, and even the promise of a cooling rain shower feels more like folklore than forecast. Today it’s 88°F (31°C), but the humidity pushes it toward 99°F (37°C). Florida weather is a coin toss, and I’ve lived here long enough to know better than to bet on the outcome.

But even in this heavy, shimmering heat, I’m aware of a different kind of pressure: anticipation.

In less than forty-eight hours, the Kindle edition of The Jim Garraty Chronicles: A Life in Four Movements will quietly appear in the libraries of the readers who pre-ordered it. I was the first customer to click that button — partly out of ritual, partly out of pride, partly because after living with these stories for so long, I wanted to experience the moment the same way any reader would. And two days after that, the paperback will be available through Amazon and its expanded distribution partners, ready to be ordered, held, shelved, or — if I’m lucky — recommended.

Release week is a strange emotional landscape. It’s equal parts exhilaration and vulnerability.

On one hand, I feel genuine excitement. A sense of accomplishment. Relief. Pride. The knowledge that I finished something difficult and meaningful, and that it now exists beyond my drafts, beyond my laptop, beyond the long nights of revising sentences until they finally sounded like themselves. I’m proud of this book — proud of Jim Garraty, proud of the world he inhabits, proud of the work I put in even when the path felt uphill.

But there’s another feeling too, quieter and harder to admit: the awareness that sales may be modest, that reviews may be few, that acclaim may not arrive in a neat, cinematic burst. Independent publishing is an act of faith, and faith doesn’t come with guarantees. You release a book knowing full well that the world may greet it with a whisper instead of a shout.

And yet — I wouldn’t trade this moment.

Because anticipation isn’t just about waiting for something to happen. It’s about believing that the thing you made matters enough to wait for. It’s about trusting that stories find their readers in their own time. It’s about accepting that pride and vulnerability can coexist, and that both are part of the creative life.

Before I go any further, here’s the back-cover blurb that will greet readers when they pick up the omnibus:

The Jim Garraty Chronicles omnibus brings together three deeply personal stories tracing Jim Garraty’s early life through the 1980s — the friendships that shape him, the memories that follow him, and the quiet moments that become turning points.

This omnibus includes Reunion, Reunion: Coda, and Comings and Goings, forming a reflective portrait of a young man navigating time, loss, renewal, and the people who leave lasting marks on his life.

As a special addition, this collection also features The Summer of Two Movies, a bonus origin story set in 1977. This short, intimate tale offers a glimpse into the earliest days of Jim’s journey — a moment of childhood, friendship, and discovery that quietly echoes through everything that follows.

Warm, nostalgic, and deeply human, The Jim Garraty Chronicles invites readers to walk alongside Jim as he grows, remembers, and becomes the person he is meant to be.

Three stories, one bonus tale — and the story continues.

That last line — and the story continues — is more than a tagline. It’s a promise to myself. Whatever happens this week, whether the numbers spike or stay quiet, whether the reviews pour in or trickle slowly, I’m not done writing. Garraty’s world isn’t finished. My writing isn’t finished. There are more stories ahead, and they’ll be written regardless of how loudly or softly this release lands.

 I won’t pretend I don’t want this book to be read. I do. I want it to sell. I want reviews — honest ones, thoughtful ones, even critical ones. Reviews help visibility, and visibility helps the next story find its footing. If you’ve pre-ordered, purchased, or plan to — thank you. If you’ve read any of the Garraty stories and left a review, thank you. If you haven’t yet, but might, that means more than you know.

Alex Diaz-Granados

Still, I won’t pretend I don’t want this book to be read. I do. I want it to sell. I want reviews — honest ones, thoughtful ones, even critical ones. Reviews help visibility, and visibility helps the next story find its footing. If you’ve pre-ordered, purchased, or plan to — thank you. If you’ve read any of the Garraty stories and left a review, thank you. If you haven’t yet, but might, that means more than you know.

So here I am, on a humid July afternoon, waiting. Not passively, not anxiously — just openly. Proud of what’s been done. Hopeful for what might come. Ready for readers to meet Garraty again, or for the first time. Ready for whatever comes next.

Anticipation is a strange companion. But today, it feels like the right one.

If you enjoy the omnibus, please consider leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads. It doesn’t have to be long — a few honest lines are enough. Reviews are the lifeblood of indie publishing, and they help ensure that future Garraty stories have a place to land. Your support truly matters.