Actually, I’ve written two. And now I have no idea what to do with them.
My first effort took over two years, two drafts and a total re-write thanks to a deleted file, and another final draft. A few close friends have read this final draft and deemed that it doesn’t suck. It still needs a name though…
My second, a novella, took a matter of months. Those characters poured out of me and onto the page quickly and easily. I could expand it to a full novel easily with sub-plots and a larger character base if someone were interested in such a book…
When I am stressed, I write out chapters of stories and then leave them hanging like wet sheets in the nowhere land of google drive. When I am feeling critical, I cut swaths of words from them and re-write until I feel better. Or I delete them altogether in a fit of self-doubt.
If this were the pre-digital era, I would have long ago gone broke buying ink or typewriter tape and paper.
I’ve even written a draft or twenty of a query letter to send to literary agents.
But printing and sending one of those is daunting. Like when the miller’s daughter is asked to spin straw into gold. But where is my Rumplestiltskin with his magical powers? (On second thought I don’t want his kind of help. I’ll keep my children, thankyouverymuch.)
Is it time to crawl out behind my lap top?
Am I an author?