It's done. I finally finished my novel. The novel I've been writing on and off for ten years and in earnest for three. The novel I outlined/drafted/revised/edited ad nauseam between working full time, mothering, general time-consuming happy and stressful life happenings, writing courses/coaching, crushing doubt, motivation malaise, a variety of self-defeating "my inbox/office/baseboards must be clean before I can write a word" tactics, topped off of course with this vile maraschino cherry of a year, arguably the most difficult in my twenty-year career.
Somehow through all that I managed to finally finish. And as much as I love writing, it is also insanely hard. I'm so proud of myself. It feels like I've had a third child—a bouncing, 118,000-word manuscript called Where Madness Lies, an adult urban/mythic fantasy thriller steeped in mythology, murder, and madness. I quite like it. And so far my beta readers do too, which I have to admit is a wee bit thrilling.
So I'm now starting the perilous process of attempting to find and agent and get published. I really want to find a good home for Alex and Artemis, and of course a good agent match for myself. I'm keeping my hopes high and expectations low, while mentally preparing for the rejections.
Hopefully I'll be able to follow up someday with other exciting news, but for now, this is plenty exciting. Also, a huge thank you to my family and friends who supported and encouraged me through it all, and never let me let go of my dreams.
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