After all the contemplation, confusion, and consternation, after all the metaphorical hair pulling and hand wringing, after all the fear and doubt and self-deprecation, after the avoidance and the mind games, after throwing just about every conceivable roadblock in my own way and repeatedly shooting myself in the foot . . . in short, after all the nonsense, comes this:
Working title is "From Earth I Have Arisen." Final word count is, as always, a guess.
I’m beginning to think I have a lot in common with Bridget Jones. I mean, that woman screws up time and time again, stumbling and bumbling her way through her life–but you know, she keeps on plugging. And every now and again, she gets it right.
Maybe someday I’ll do the same. For now, though, I’m back in the trenches. Which is something, I guess.
Write Club update: Nine days to a tier one reject from an agent on a novel query.
<Insert snappy sign-off line here.>
