Picture this scene. I'm in my twenties, deep in the middle of my very first novel, working at home, not answering the phone or emails or instant messages, when the doorbell rings. I'm wired, excited and nauseous, all at the same time, because I've been working so hard and I feel so completely over my head. I go to answer the door, thinking it might be a FedEx package I'm expecting. Instead, it's a relative. She's been out shopping and decided to take a break. "Thought I'd drop by!" she says, ...
Published on January 11, 2010 09:43