SOME DAYS IT DOESN'T PAY TO BE A WRITER
Right now I'm putting the finishing touches on Lone Star Sanctuary
. My crit buddies love it, I think I'm secure in my self confidence. Then it happens. I get a manuscript to read from James Scott Bell. I started calling him Jimbo years ago and now everyone does, but he's a great friend and a super guy.
Until I read his manuscript. Then I hate him and decide our friendship is at an end. I want to close my MacBook and slink off into the sunset. Why on earth did I ever think I could write? His dialogue is fabulous, his characterization is superb. The plot is riveting, and I can't put the book down.
That's when it sucks to be a writer. When you see how far you really have to go. Sigh. Jimbo, if you're reading this, the ruin of my career is squarely at your feet, big guy. I think you owe me DeBrand mocha truffles for the trauma.