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Becoming a Writer

Yesterday, I received the editor's notes on my book, Azure Maris. Was I nervous? Sure. It's one thing to have someone like family read a novel and say that it's good, but it's entirely different to have an editor read a novel and say that it's good.

If I could have had a place like this to go walk for a bit while I contemplated my book, I would have been quite thankful. Alas, I do not. This photo was taken in County Galway, Ireland. Some days it feels as though writing is as lonely as this beach appears until we hand a manuscript off to someone to read it. It can be nerve wrecking, but in the long run, having someone else to read a novel can help clarify sections that I thought made sense, but in reality, did not.

To all the editors out there, thanks. You have an often thankless job of correcting and clarifying a writer's novels. I will admit that this isn't the first time that I've had a novel edited . . . beyond myself and family, of course. My very first novel, The Escape, was given to one of the moms at my Christian high school. She had edited in the past, and agreed to edit my first novel.

I was all of fourteen years, and nervous as all get out. Would she like it? What if she didn't? Could I handle the rejection of someone telling me that what I wrote was a piece of garbage?

That was over fourteen years ago now, and I can no longer remember where I put that manuscript, which is a shame because I could show you all the red marks that were on the paper. I think I counted up about 20 (out of 112) pages that hadn't been marked upon. In the end, she liked the story. In the end, she said that I had talent and that I could make it if I applied myself to my writing.

Fourteen plus years ago was the first time that anyone other than friends or family told me that she thought I could write and be published. So, what about you? When was the first time that you realized you could actually write, and get paid for it?


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