Limbo is not a new aconym for a Manhattan neighbourhood, although New York City, where I’m writing from, is full of them – Loisa for the Lower East Side, NoLiTa for North of Little Italy, Dumbo for Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass. No, Limbo simply describes the in-between state I currently occupy, in which my book is bound and printed and champing at the bit, yet not out in the world of bookstores. I came here to wait out part of this hiatus, and have kept myself busy with friends and other work in the meantime (a feature article for a magazine, content for my new website). My publisher warned me I would find this period difficult, and she was right. I’m impatient for the book to kick and scream its way onto shelves, whatever the duration its shelf-life turns out to be.