I only thought I was finished with that novel. After 14 drafts, a lot of helpful input from others, and what seemed like enough revision, I was ready to send it out. Turns out, it was not ready to go. After a number of rejections that included one agent who read part of the novel, some polite form letters, some abrupt form letters, and some no responses, I sent the manuscript off for a free sample edit. It seemed to be spot on, so I hired an editor from @DarlingAxe. Michelle Barker turned her professional eye to it and sent me a wonderfully detailed narrative assessment. So here we go. Sledge hammer and hard hat ready. Meet you on the other side.
This is the house my father built, and where I lived for the first seventeen years of my life. It is gone now, torn down to make way for a suburban mega-mansion. I return there in memory and in dreams. I wrote my first book in my room on the second floor, scrawling the story on West Virginia Brick notepads. I spun a tale of the twins who lived in the attic and had tantalizing secrets. The Homco Lab Papers. Privately published for only the stuffed animals who lived in my room.
