Faith Andrews's Blog, page 9

Check out my giveaway!

 

So who’s read Collide by Gail McHugh? If you have…you’re hooked and dying for more Gavin if you haven’t…are you crazy??? Go out and get it…NOW. I love this book, I love this author, I love the characters…all this love needs to be shared.

So…I’m giving away a signed copy of the book, with original cover art, thru a Rafflecopter giveaway. You can enter here: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/f493121/

Good luck to everyone and don’t be shy in sharing the love

Full steam ahead

What a few days and some Facebook likes could do a girl…so I’ve jumped into the indie thing thankful to have so many forms of support from well-known indie authors, book bloggers, friends, critique partners and, hell, the entire writing community. In a matter of days I went from sitting on the manuscript and waiting to pure and utter excitement and chaos. Yesterday I spoke with an editor, a formatter, a graphic designer and emailed an amazing photographer about cover art for Man of My Dreams. But the best thing that happened in the midst of all this hoopla was the emails and posts from my new “fans” asking when the book will be available for purchase! Really? someone wants to actually buy my book!!

All I can say is…holy cow…it’s actually happening. This feeling is nothing short of fan-freaking-tastic! I am so happy that my teaser reached people and made them decide “they want more.” That’s the most beautiful music to my ears I have ever heard!!

I want to thank all of you for pushing me along and encouraging me to live out my dream and get this book out there! I am actually hosting a giveaway on my Facebook page …but I need your help! I’m really really close to my goal of 300 likes…please stop by and like the page to help me reach that goal! And the giveaway won’t disappoint…I promise!!

Man of My Dreams Teaser #1

So Facebook, and Gail McHugh and her fans, have been mighty kind to me. I reached over 200 likes today on my little nothing of a page and I wanted to celebrate by sharing a teaser of Man of My Dreams. You can check it out on my author page or you can just read it right here.

So without further ado, I give you…Teaser #1

October 1998

“Hey, aren’t you in my psychology class?”

I glance over my shoulder to see who this unfamiliar voice belongs to only to come face to face with one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever laid eyes on—and there are plenty of gorgeous guys to take your pick from on campus. I would have definitely noticed if this guy was in my psychology class. Hell, he’d be more than in my psychology class, he’d be in my pants.

My not-so-lady-like thoughts cause me to blush. I tuck a few errant hairs behind my ear, peering up through batting lashes. “Um, no, I don’t think so?” Not sure why it’s coming out as a question.

“You’re Mia, right? I know you from somewhere.”

Oh my God, those eyes. I want to agree with him just so he’ll stay put and stare at me like that a little longer. But I’m not about to start this off with lies. “Yes, I’m Mia, but I’m certain I’ve never seen you before.” I give him another once over, hoping it reads as I’ve never seen you, but I’d love to see more of you.

“Mind if I pull up a chair, Mia?”

“I would love that…” I trail off hoping he’ll put a name to his flawless face.

“Declan. Sorry, my name’s Declan.”

Oh. Even his name—I’ve never heard of a Declan before. It’s so different. So intriguing. So sexy.

He sits next to me at our obscure table in the library and my roommate, Whitney, eyes me knowingly. “I’m pretty much done here. I’m heading back to the dorms. Catch you later?”

“Sure thing, Whitney.” I discreetly wink over my shoulder. It’s a promise to fill her in on all the details later.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt your studying, but when I saw you here I just couldn’t ignore you.” He’s leaning against his chair, one arm hung nonchalantly over the back. But there is nothing nonchalant about the way his eyes are roaming me.

“You’re not interrupting, Declan.” Wow, I really like saying that! “And I wasn’t really studying, more like wasting time.” I’d rather be wasting time with you than with Introduction to Ethics.

“Well, then I’m glad I got up the nerve to finally come talk to you.”

“Finally?”

He looks down at his hands; they’re mangled together in knots. Oh my goodness, he’s nervous. How cute. “Yeah, I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I’ve wanted to talk to you since I spotted you at orientation.”

I can’t hide my surprise at his admission. My voice goes an octave too high, “Since orientation? Last year? It took you a whole year to build up the nerve to talk to me?” I feel bad for sounding so amused, but really, a year? I’m nothing special. I can’t believe he’s been pining over me that long.

“No,” he flashes a smile.

I melt.

“Not since last year. Since last month. I’m a freshman. I take it you’re not?”

Hello stupid mouth, how do you like the taste of my foot? For the first time since the start of this conversation I’m the one who’s nervous. “Oh…I…I just assumed you were a sophomore too. I’m sorry.”

He laughs, tilting his head back, brushing back a piece of his dark, wavy hair with his manly hands. “Nothing to be sorry about. I get that a lot. I guess I won’t have a problem getting into the local bars then.”

How could he have a problem getting in anywhere? “No, probably not.” I practically stammer, wanting to gain back some control. “So, Declan the freshman, what made today different than the last thirty?”

He leans closer to me and any prayer of being in control, in such close proximity to this beautiful boy, is out the damn window. “I decided I was tired of not knowing you anymore. There was this voice in my head telling me I have to get to know you.”

Okay, this one’s good. Either that’s his pick up line or he’s just the sweetest thing alive. And the voices in his head—kudos to them. “Oh really? Well what is the voice in your head telling you now?”

He leans back in his chair, devouring me with his eyes again. “It’s telling me to ask you out.”

I force myself to take a mental step back. What have I done to deserve this? I’ve spent the last year messing around with random nobodies in the hopes of sowing my oats and enjoying my freedom. But Declan and his delicious offer have me uncharacteristically hoping for all the things I never thought I wanted at my age. A steady boyfriend to cuddle at the movies with, to lounge around and study with, to hold hands with, to fall in love with.

“Well? Are you going to leave me hanging all day? Or maybe make me wait another month?” Declan interrupts my silent fairytale imaginings with a coy grin, one corner of his delectable mouth turned upward.

“Declan, I don’t know you from Adam, but I can’t bring myself to say no.”

“So is that a yes?” His ice-blue eyes are wide, sparkling with excitement.

***

On our first date, five days later, Declan takes me to an off campus lounge-type place that accommodates the underage crowd. The Alibi hosts open mic nights and live bands. He couldn’t have known it, but this is exactly my type of scene. Tonight there’s a cover band that plays their own interpretations of everything ranging from the hits of the ‘80s to Pearl Jam and Matchbox Twenty.

I tap my foot, singing along to Rick Springfields’s Jesse’s Girl as Declan excuses himself from the table. My guess is he’s headed to the men’s room, but when I see him over at the stage, talking to one of the band members, I can’t help but wonder what he’s up to. He looks over at me with a devilish grin and a raised index finger, signaling that he’ll be a minute.

The next thing I know, Declan’s on stage, standing with the mic in his hand, peering down at me with a shy smile. The lead singer of the band tilts the mic to his mouth to make an announcement.

Is this really happening?

“I’m gonna rest my pipes for the next set while my man Declan takes over. Seems like Dec wants to make a special first impression tonight. Take it away, buddy.”

Declan rolls his eyes, and fake punches the lead singer in the gut. I guess they’re friends. The band starts to play, the drum beat is sensual, mesmerizing. After a bar or two of the drums and the practiced strumming of a guitar, Declan starts to sing and I all hear are the words…I want you. He repeats them again, you make me want you.

Oh. My. God.

This is one of my favorite Third Eye Blind songs, and as sexy as I think Stephan Jenkins is when he sings this, Declan blows him away. And he’s singing it about me! I lose track of all reality as his raspy voice takes me away. I can barely make sense of any of the lyrics, the ones I’ve sung along to at least a hundred times, but hearing him sing those words makes my heart race at galloping speed. This is the best first date ever! I wouldn’t mind it being my last first date either.  

When he’s finished making me feel like the luckiest girl in the world, the mass of rowdy boys and swooning girls cheer, mobbing Declan with high-fives. He makes his way back to our table and sits down as if nothing’s happened.

I stare at him in disbelief.

He takes a sip of his Coke and says nothing.

“Seriously, dude? Are you kidding?” I pinch his arm, deflating back into the booth.

“What?” he says with a wicked grin.

“What? So that’s how we’re playing this? Okay, I’ll just come out and say it then…um, amazing. That was amazing, Declan. No one has ever done something like that for me before.”

“Who said I was doing it for you?” he arches an eyebrow.

I slap his arm this time, tilting my head as if to say “really?”

“I’m kidding, Mia. But not about what I said up there. I definitely want you.”

I motion to the waitress to get us the check.

Declan narrows his eyes, grimacing. “Check? Is our date over?”

I lean over the table and give Declan an inviting, pre-game peck on his soft lips. “Date’s definitely not over. But can we get out of here? I kind of want you too.”

***

We escape the loudness of The Alibi in to a brisk, beautiful October night. I love the fall, the way the weather starts to cool, foreshadowing all the things that I love about the last three months of the year—winter and the holidays and the way they spark a kind of innocent magic that I’ll never outgrow.

Declan takes my hand in his, entwining our fingers together. His touch sparks something, but it’s not innocence. The simple gesture is sweet, but after the way he just serenaded me, sweet isn’t going to cut it. I don’t want him to think I’m some slut ready to give it up to him on our first date, we hardly know each other. But God help me for not wanting to reciprocate his sweet, gentle wooing. I want him to kiss me with the same eager desire that gleamed in his penetrating eyes when he sang those words to me.

As we walk in silence, hand in hand, to the bus stop where the shuttle back to campus picks us up, I can’t control my devilish musings. Whitney won’t be back at the dorm tonight, I intend on asking Declan to come up and continue our date. My turn to show him how much I want him.

“You’re awfully quiet. What’re you thinking about, huh?” Declan’s free hand tips my chin up so my eyes meet his.

I’m almost positive that all of my secret intentions spill out through my dilated, fiery gaze, so I lower my eyes, taking in how perfectly my hand fits inside his.

“I’m thinking about what a great time I had and how I don’t want it to end just yet. It’s still kind of early. Want to watch a movie back at the dorms?” Step one: get him in the room. Step two, and all the rest, will come later.

“I’d love that. But I kind of want to take care of something first.” He drops my hand from his, leaving it cold and lonely without his fingers wrapped around mine.

I look up into his eyes. They glisten with tiny gold specks illuminated by the street lamps. Only they’re not focused on mine, they’re paying very close attention to my mouth. I lick my lips, as if to extinguish the flames that radiate off them from his scorching stare.

He leans forward and I think this is it, but instead he takes a few strands of my hair, playing with them, flipping them through his fingers. Come on! You can’t come that close just to touch my hair, you tease. I want to move in and take matters into my own hands, but I also want Declan to possess control of our first kiss. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of the way it feels to watch a guy lean in and tilt his head, the anticipation of his lips melding to mine for the very first time. The thought of watching Declan do this sends thrilling tingles fluttering through my stomach.

But he hasn’t taken the usual stance a guy takes before going in for the kill. He’s backing away, hesitant, almost nervous even. I take a step closer, maybe he needs some help, or more proof that what I want more than anything is to be kissed. By him.

He doesn’t lean down and tilt his head, he brings his hands up to my face, his thumbs caressing my blush burned cheeks. I close my eyes to savor the smooth, amorous touch, taking it all in, and then I finally feel the connection of his lips on mine.

They’re soft and just moist enough to make me want more. His tongue pokes through my puckered pout, forcing a slow, delicious entrance. I part my lips to give into his sweet intrusion, and his tongue explores my mouth with slow circles and flicks. He pulls back, grazing the tip of my tongue ever so slightly with his own and that’s when I can’t control it anymore.

My hands reach up to bury themselves in his hair and I deepen the kiss by pulling him closer. My tongue caresses his with a dreamy intimacy. I pause from the wild stroking to trail my tongue across his top lip. In response he nibbles my lower lip with his teeth, before capturing it with a subtle suck. This is, hands down, is the best first kiss I have ever had. Ever!

We go on like this for what seems like hours, under the ashy moonlight and shallow thumping of the music we left behind, alternating between slow, tender pecks and more intense groping. The sound of the bus pulling up at the curb is what finally breaks us away from each other.

“Wow!” He says to me, wiping away the remains of my lipstick from my mouth with his thumb.

“Wow is an understatement. Incredibly, breathtakingly awesome is more like it.”

***

Back in my dorm room, we can’t keep our hands off each other. So much for that movie. But it looks like my plan is working. I’m so glad Whitney is spending the night at her boyfriend’s apartment. No room for interruptions tonight.

“Mia. Wait. Stop.”

Declan’s hands are in my hair, his lips still trailing kisses on my neck. No, don’t stop that.

“What? What’s the matter?” I say, panting, trying to unbutton his jeans.

“It’s our first date. There’s plenty of time for…for our first time.”

I’m starting to wonder if his choice of song was the right one.

“Declan, I thought we made it clear back at the bar that we wanted each other. This is me wanting you.” My eager hands find their way back to his pants, but are stopped by Declan’s manly grip on my wrists.

He places my arms at my side, and we sit up on the bed, regaining normal breaths. He lifts his hands up to my face and cups my chin with one, pushing my bangs out of my eyes with the other. “Mia, I want you. I’ve never wanted someone so badly…ever. But…”

“But what, Declan? It seems simple to me. I want you, you want me. What more is there to know?”

He pauses, looking down at his fidgeting legs. “I’m a virgin, Mia.”

Productivity trumps subjectivity…today, at least

Today, after about a month since I sat down to complete the rigorous job of rewriting my FIRST MS I retyped the words THE END on the page.

I can’t tell you how overwhelming it feels to have TWO completed manuscripts saved on this hard drive. It’s exhilarating, mind-blowing, fan-freaking-tastic, but…now what?

I’m sure I’m not the only one who battles with the voices in her head, the ones who can’t wait for their turn to get out and down on paper…that’s the life of a writer I’m learning. But the part I am DYING to experience is the part where I get to share the stories, hear the feedback from my readers and get to say…”I wrote that!”

Since completing the first version of Taking Second Chances in November I’ve been at the subjective mercy of agents and publishers and contests judges…none of them are yet to give me a shot. Yes, that’s normal…I’ve read blogs and articles about best selling authors who’ve had 400+ query rejections and 15 years of waiting for their MS to be out on a shelf. For anyone who knows me…I CANNOT wait 15 years to see this through.

In fact, I don’t know how much longer I can wait until I just do this thing by myself. With all the news about self-publishing on the rise, I’m starting to think that’s my route. Just last week a small publishing house emailed me with a request to revise and resubmit Man of My Dreams. The story has a lot of nostalgic aspects to it…song names, band names, TV shows, etc. The publisher isn’t comfortable leaving those in the book for legal purposes. I’m not sold on taking them out…I have to be true to the story I want to be told and let’s face it, music is just as important to me as is my writing. Without it life would be bland and so would my story. So, I’m mulling it over and waiting for more feedback…I got a rejection from an agent this week who actually wrote in her email that she looks forward to kicking herself when she sees the book on the best seller’s lists. Made me feel good, but it was also a WTF? moment. Why not take the chance on it if you think it will end up there?

But today…my joy in being productive, and creative and loving what I do over exceeds the idea that this business is subjective. I’m starting to think that I want the reader to decide if I’m worth the purchase of the next book. The idea of having someone else decide my destiny for me…that’s getting old. I did the hard part…I told a story, weaved together some really pretty words and emotions and poured myself and my characters out on the page. Should I wait until someone else tells me I can to let everyone read about it? Sounds silly now as I type it.

I’ve blogged a lot about self-publishing lately. I know I don’t have many followers and God only knows who’s out there reading my ramblings, but I’d love to know what you think about throwing caution to the wind and leaving the traditional path of publishing in the dust?

Cat’s outta the bag…

So…when I decided a little over a year ago to sit and write a book I was really, like really secretive about it. I sat at the computer when my husband wasn’t around and I listened to the voices in my head yelling to get out…when no one was around. Then, I just had to get it out there; had to tell ONE person…I chose my best friend because she has always been the most amazing, supportive, encouraging person…she rooted me on no matter what the crazy occupation or dream of the week was. But what always sticks out in my mind — when I would write out a birthday card, an email to our friends or a letter to a teacher, she would rave about my writing. I always joked that she was my number one fan and when I wrote a book she would get the dedication. (Looks like I owe her that). So when I opened up and told her my dream of becoming an author, she did exactly as I suspected…cheered me on, boosted my ego and made me feel great about going for something I wanted. Then came my husband; he wasn’t as receptive, but only because he’s a skeptic by nature. It took him time (and the fact that my manuscripts did get agent/publisher interest) to think this was the real deal. But for a long, long time…up until a few months ago. Things were really hush, hush about my new “gig.” I tiptoed around the questions, “Why are you getting so little sleep?” or “Why’d you need that new home office, Jes?” or “Damn, you spend a lot of time on that computer.” I did this because I had a vision for my announcement. I wanted to be able to tell EVERYONE when the time was right…when I could say, “Hey, guys, I wrote a book and it’s being published!!”

One year, two manuscripts and a few chapters of a new one later…I’m still not published, but things are getting really real. My second manuscript got a lot more action in the query game and in the last week, I had a request from a publisher to revise and resubmit for a possible contract offer. When I got that email I felt like I was going to pass out. (I imagine I’ll flat line if I ever get the actual email that an agent wants to call to offer me representation). But after regaining consciousness, I did a few things…I emailed all my writer friends for advice, I called Mom, hubby and BFF and I started to panic.

In the last few weeks, I’ve had the pleasure of speaking with Gail McHugh (author of Collide).I feel like I struck gold when I read her book…not only because it motivated me to try to be as good as her in telling the kind of story that stays with you; lingers and makes you think about those characters long after the book is done. But when I tweeted her to tell her how much I loved her book and that I was an aspiring author, she literally took me under her wing. In our conversations she has taught me some pretty amazing, eye opening things. And this leads me to why I’m even rambling on tonight…

I decided to start a a Facebook author page, as suggested by my new friend. This girl knows what she’s doing…she self published Collide and look where it’s at now. (On everyone’s lips and in everyone’s hands). But little did I know (I’m still learning the whole electronic world) that starting my author page, even though under a pseudonym, would let the cat out of the bag.

Friends and family are texting and calling and looking at me funny…”Oh, look it’s Edgar Allen Poe” or “Someone started a Facebook page under a different name with YOUR face!” That was the funniest one yet. But I can’t help feeling like an idiot…I have nothing to show for it. No paperback to hand to them and say, “Here. Have a look.” No publishing date in sight to say, “It’s coming out on XX. Stay tuned.” I can’t help feeling a little embarrassed when I have to try to explain (to the non-writer) everything that encompasses trying to make it in this crazy world of fiction.

So, in hopes of clearing the air to all those skeptics and confused friends of mine…this WILL happen. It’s not just some far fetched pipe dream and guess what, I need your support. I ask that you just back me up and believe in me…I want this…I want it real bad. Take a look at my blog page, my facebook page, share it…ask your friends to share it and look at it. Spread the word and just be patient. That’s the name of the game in this business, I’ve learned the hard way. I can’t give anyone an exact date in time, but I promise that I will see this one through. Faith Andrews is not just a made up name of a person with the same face as your friend Jessica…you’ll see her name on the cover of a book one day…I promise.

Street Teams: Why you need one and how to create one

Reblogged from Writers In The Storm Blog:

Note: Congratulations to Robin Kramme, winner of the giveaway by Melissa Cutler!

Writers In The Storm is thrilled to welcome Steena Holmes.

There’s one key aspect to writing that authors either love or hate. Promotion. We either find it exciting and can’t wait to dive in or we fortify ourselves with pots of coffee followed by bottles of wine all the while wishing our books would magically appear on the bestsellers list with no effort on our part.

Read more… 755 more words

Publishing with Priya Kanaparti

Reblogged from Jackson Paul Baer:

Today, we have a very special guest blogger and author joining us. Priya Kanaparti, author of Dracian Legacy, has stopped by to share some advice on self-publishing. Many people think that self-publishing is of lesser quality but having read through the first half of her book this past week, that couldn't be further from the truth! I can't wait to finish and will be writing a review of her intriguing novel.

Read more… 920 more words

As a writer it's so great to know your options. More and more the advice I've been given is much of what's being said in this blog post.

OMG I’m a Kontestant!!

A few weeks ago I was Googling around and stumbled across a contest for what is being called querykombat.

Three amazing bloggers (and writers) are hosting a contest where entrants can post their queries and the first 250 words of their manuscript to be carefully decided on for participation in the Kombat. Out of 210 entries the hosts had the painstaking duty of choosing 64 to kompete. Guess who scored a spot?????

Yup! My query and first 250 for Man of My Dreams secured me a spot in round one!!! I’m so excited to get this opportunity to go against some insanely talented entries that I’m finding it hard not to jump up and down!!!

I find it so inspiring that the writer’s community is so welcoming and encouraging and such a wonderful group to be a part of. Whether its a contest or a simple retweet of a random rambling or a thoughtful push to keep going, the fellow writers I have met along this journey are nothing short of amazing!!!

I wish all the Kombatants luck in round one and I encourage everyone to type in the hashtag #querykombat in twitter to check out what all the buzz is about. Also follow along on one of these blogs to see how the Kontest is matching up.

Michelle’s blog

Mike’s blog

Or

(Forgive me for not knowing his first name) @sc_author

By the way my entry is under the nickname Nostalgic Dreamer

Tweets and Treats

In the last few days I’ve devoured two books that just need to be added to everyone’s to be read list, like now. Collide by Gail McHugh and Falling into You by Jasinda Wilder.

I usually get all pissy and down on my own unseasoned writing when I read incredible books like these, but thanks to Twitter and two really awesome, friendly authors I’m feeling good.

If I could do two things all day everyday and get paid to do them it would be to read and write. I love my kids to bits, so happy and lucky to be a stay at home mom, but reading and writing take me away, relieve the stress and often wind me down on the crazy days. And there are a lot of them with my rowdy and rambunctious 7 and 3 year old girls.

Life took on a whole new turn of events when I dove head first into my writing last year and now 2 manuscripts and 9 requests for material later I really feel like I can do this. But the path I find myself on comes with a lot of rejection, even though I know my stories are ones that readers will connect with, like I connected with so many in the last few years of my fast-paced reading obsession.

So when I decided to tweet Gail McHugh (@gail_mchugh) and Jasinda Wilder (@jasindawilder) to tell them how moved I was by their books, imagine my surprise when they were willing to communicate with me about their lives and journies as writers. First and foremost I want to say how blown away I am by their willingness to tweet, follow back and/or email with their fans. It’s so refreshing to know that people do take the time out of their busy demanding lives to chat with the folks who fall in love with the characters they’ve created. Secondly, I want to add that even in a one line tweet, their candid advice is such a welcome surprise. There is clearly a lot to think about when two best selling authors give the advice to an aspiring author to self publish their manuscript. It’s not that I haven’t thought of it, but I honestly have no idea where to begin.

Will I have the strong social media presence to promote a book on my own? I have no idea. Am I tooting my own horn in thinking my story/writing can measure up to the hottest trending books right now? Quite possibly. The list of questions is endless and kind of scary, but the little seedling has been planted into my head now and will start its process of rooting itself in my brain until I figure out the next step.

If nothing else, I love knowing that there are other possibilities out there if the agents reading my manuscript come back to me with a ‘no.’ But for now, while I wait, I just want to thank Gail and Jasinda for being so open and friendly. I aspire to be just like you ladies one day…

Subjective is a dirty, dirty word

“because this business is so subjective and opinions vary widely, we recommend you pursue other agents…”

How many of you have gotten the dreaded form rejection after sending off your perfectly, polished query with a hopefullness that can only be encompassed by an aspiring author? My guess is anyone in similar shoes as mine has gotten that letter more times then they care to admit (and if you haven’t…just appease us, please).

I sent out a test run of queries to a handful (plus one) of reputable literary agents that I thought would be interested in my new manuscript. I fell in love with it, my CPs and betas fell in love with it, it’s only right that an agent is BOUND to fall in love with it, right? That, my friends, is the definition of wishful thinking. And if I had to measure both wishful thinking and subjectivity on the wicked scale of writer’s success, I’d have to say that subjectivity tips the scale every time.

Only problem is that all of these agents have similar “subjectivity” it seems. I know I’m no Danielle Steel or Nora Roberts, but with every rejection I’m left wondering, what did I do wrong? And even when I fix it, I still seem to be wrong. Maybe the key is that I’m not necessarly wrong, just submitting to the wrong person. Even still, I wonder if the thin line of subjectivity could be broadned just a teensy smidge, afterall maybe the query is to the manuscript the way a student with a 99 average is to a standardized test. Just because my query may not be pitch perfect doesn’t mean my manuscript might not be the next bestseller or trendy, talked-about e-read. (Just like the poor kid who aces everything but freezes on the SATs/citiwides).

I hate to vent or rant or seem like a whining brat. I know this is the nature of the beast and everyone (even Danielle Steel and Nora Roberts) has been here. So let’s take from this the positive: keep going! Subjective does NOT have to be a dirty word. What one person loves another person may hate, but the goal in the grand scheme of things is to get one out of the very very many to love what you are capable of. That’s all it takes…I hope my bright, shiny one is out there waiting for me!