Photo by Rick Flynn |
Finishing the first draft of my novel, Postcards from the Desert. As I typed the last page, I went from wanting to write a novel to one who had done it. Sure, lots of revision lay ahead, but at that moment, I cried. Finally after all the sleepless nights of characters talking to me and guiding me, I felt like I had everything out on paper. Even as I'm half way through revisions, I have to pinch myself every now and then and say, "Wow, I'm a novelist." I could die now.
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