For the next 2 months I wrote. I wrote when I got up, I wrote when I was eating, I wrote at the beach, I wrote non-stop. Now, mind you, I’m not a single recluse, with no friends or family. I have a husband, a toddler (at the time), and a household full of chores to be done. Needless to say… the laundry piled up, dishes were dirty, I barely showered, I could only write. After everyone went to bed, I would stay up late just to see what was going to happen in this new world I was creating.
Here’s where it officially became something more than writing a story… I became addicted. About 35,000 words into the story, something happened. I did not plan it. I did not know it was going to transpire. As I typed freely, a character showed up. A character I had not thought about, she had not been spoken of, she just showed up. WHAT? I couldn’t believe it. I know it really sounds crazy. My husband says I should not share that with anyone ever because it is just too insane. Well, it is true, and it was exciting!
After that experience, I was hooked on storytelling. I had to see what else was buried deep within. I had done something very few will ever do. I had quieted the noise, listened to my inner monologue, and documented it. I now had a 50,000 word manuscript… a complete novel… my ONE good story!
So let’s sell it for $750,000 and become a legit author!
…not so fast!
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