There was me. Just me, starting a blog for myself. To soothe my frazzled mind as I pursue the publication of my recently completed book. Or manuscript I guess. We'll call it a book when it gets published.
I guess I don't really have a purpose with this blog. I'm too A.D.D. for that. How could I pin myself down to just one subject? Sure, I'm gonna write about my journey from a mere sender of unsolicited queries to full on published author, assuming that happens. No, not assuming. It's gonna happen. This is my blog, and you know what? I am gonna be positive, dang it. See that tangent I just went off on? A.D.D. Anyway, yes, I am writing about my foray into the published word, but also about whatever else.
Right now, however, all I can write about is my, fingers crossed, soon-to-be-loved-by-an-agent manuscript. It took a good portion of two years of my life to get it ready to go, but it's finally out there. It's so out there that it's already been rejected once. Exciting, right? Truthfully, when I got the first rejection, I was actually a little excited. I have been rejected. I felt like a writer. Then I hated it. How could my manuscript be rejected? I've read it. I know it's awesome. And now, I'm okay. I've stepped back from the ledge. Not that I was ever gonna jump, but my computer was in danger. So, my life now consists of a series of bated breath visits to gmail and glances at my ringing cell phone. And so it begins...
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