Once upon a time I wrote a book. I thought it was awesome. I patted
myself on the back (which is hard to do when you don't have Stretch
Armstrong's pliability). I proudly shared it with my family and friends.
They patted me on the back (well, everyone except Uncle Vernon patted me on the back. He has haphephobia.) and I thought, "This is it! I have arrived! Now I will be an author!"
Well, that was over 10 years ago, and
now I freely admit that my first book, The Seasons of Mae, stunk worse than a skunk
with halitosis. I also know what I did wrong while writing my first
novel: EVERYTHING.
I want you to learn from my mistakes. I'm
sharing pieces of that unpolished first manuscript to help budding
authors learn what NOT to do. Lessons will be posted every
Wednesday. Feel free to ask questions or offer suggestions. Let's get
those manuscripts shinning like my forehead on a humid day. Eew, that
was TMI. Sorry, I do that sometimes.
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Come on and talk to me: I already spend WAY too much time talking to myself!