I was done. I had written a whole book. A short book, sure, but it was a book. I should have gone to bed happy and satisfied, but I didn’t. For months, something was bothering me. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Something about the book was wrong, but I didn’t know what. Something in it? Something about it?
Read moreOctober of 2008 probably seems pretty specific, but thankfully, other people are keeping track of this stuff for me. It was October of 2008 when I heard about National Novel Writing Month for the first time (otherwise known as NANOWRIMO). It’s grown quite a bit since then, but the idea was pretty simple: you sit down during the month of
Read moreI’d just finished writing for the day (probably) when Derek got home. Within minutes of walking through the front door, he asked me to sit down and write the story of the book. The story of how it was written, I mean. Did I mention that it’s our anniversary? I think it’s our ninth. Or twenty-ninth. It’s hard to say.
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Heather Masterson 