It's...outta here...

Well, I've done it. One month's worth of tedious, mind-bending work has just been tied up with a rubberband and sent out. Actually, it's been about four years worth of work, but who's counting. And it's my most beloved--my first. We'll see what the future has in store...

Now, I'm free to work on my WIP of five years and counting. Will I ever get this novel done? What always sidetracks me is self-doubt and fear. I've put LOTS of research into this and I question myself whether I've put in enough and then I question whether anyone will like it and then I question whether I'll ever do it right and then I'll question...well...you get the point. Authors are poor tortured souls. I wouldn't advise the medium...

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