[100% that damn book; 12% whining; 34% more whining]
My wonderful co-author Amy Calistri has said most of what follows better than I could; perhaps, that is because men don't get to use an "afterbirth" metaphor quite as easily as do the ladies. As I write this, a printing press is turning out copies of Check-Raising the Devil. I can't change the last line of the first paragraph, no matter how much I want to. I can't tweak the chapter on tweaking. It's all locked down, done finished, over.
Am I glad not to be spending so much time inside of Mike Matusow's head; hell yes! Even Mike should spend less time there.
I also know I am experiencing what ever first-time (every time?) author feels when the book is out of their hands. But I am glad that poker fans will finally get the opportunity to hear Mike's side of the story. I can only promise that some of the tales will seem like Mike is covering up his guilt or blame, others will surely seem like way more of a confession than you ever would have expected but finally, there are stories in the book that no one has ever heard before and Mike was honest enough to tell them like they happened and never once asked us to tone them down or clean them up.
Amy promised on her blog that she would post the original first chapter. The one that didn't make the book. We will coordinate that day and post on both of our blogs.
