There's nothing more maddening than writing half a chapter and finding you got something wrong. I had my nineteenth century immigrants landed in Quebec City only to discover (luckily!) that they landed them on the south side of the St. Lawrence at Pointe Levi, as it was known then. So now they can only look at the Heights of Abraham...
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My time to write...
For most of my adult life, I've written for other people in order to 'bring home the bacon'. Now is the time to write for myself - not that I'd turn down any requests for ads, brochures, websites, etc...more
