I’ve always believed the writing, the publishing of books, the selling of books, might simply be a tool in God’s arsenal.
I told myself not to get attached to my story no matter how cute it was. Or to the characters no matter how adorable they were together. Because I was going to sell my little baby and no one was ever going to know this baby was mine.
nobody asks if authors are ever scared that their next book won’t be as good as the previous one.
Variety as they say, is the spice of life. Editing, I can assure you, is not. Like any true artiste, however, I am willing to suffer for my art. And so is my waistline.
So what if “bestselling author” isn’t part of my resume? If raising two great kids is what I was meant to accomplish with my life, I am more than okay with that.
In less than six hours God has provided an answer to all of my questions. He’s helped me clarify my goals. Helped me lay out a plan.
As questions mount and the body count rises, she finds herself caught in the crosshairs of an organization that will stop at nothing to hide its secrets and protect its profits.
The corner of his mouth inched up. She’d be a handful…for the right man, which sure as hell wasn’t him. Not anymore.
it was like God saying, of course you can’t stop writing. No matter how much shit gets thrown at you. (I’m paraphrasing, of course.) And then He said, “I’ll help you shovel.”
I learned I shouldn’t be publishing ANYTHING that isn’t professionally edited. Not if I want to be the best that it can be, that is.