Here I am, one year later, still writing and still not knowing what to expect. I've learned a lot, a ton actually, and met so many great people. I've seen other writers send out their novels and receive offers for representation from well-known literary agents. I've seen other writers sign book deals. Even more writers have published their novels and experienced different levels of success. Congratulations to all of them. The achievement is well deserved.
All I have is a story to tell.
My books aren't great literary masterpieces, nor are they worthy of critical acclaim. I don't think I want to write those kind of books. They bore me; I could never write a book that bored me. But this story, THIS STORY, is something fantastic. I wrote the words, yes, so I'm biased that way, but the story found me in a way that begged me to share it with the world. I couldn't walk away and never will.