Title: Nothing to it, but to do it
My first book started one spring day when a friend of mine
from work told me she had a published novel. My response was the stereotypical
wow and smile, even as I said I would like to try that myself. That is the
second most popular response when those around me find out about my new career.
But unlike the 99% of people who want to write, I started
the book we’re talking about that same night. I love to read, but I haven’t
completed college yet, or taken any classes to write creatively either. So with
that said, I didn’t think I had snowball’s chance in Hades to publish it
either.
I looked at the book for over two months, not sure what to
do about it, or even if I wanted to do anything with the manuscript. My husband
talked me into sending it somewhere and I did. The choice of Siren was easy,
they write some of what I like to read, and had the bonus of some of the best
turnaround time on inquiries.
One month later, my book was accepted, but I didn’t tell my
family. Oh, my husband and friends at work knew about it, but not my parents or
other close family members. The reason was my mother. She is deeply religious
and I knew she wouldn’t like the subject matter one bit.
I regret the choice to keep it quiet, because once my sister
knew, mom knew shortly thereafter. But dad never found out as he passed away
less than a month later. I was elbow deep in edits when I found out about his
death. I’m the executor of his estate and his family came with a passel full of
drama.
They stole his car for heaven’s sake, not to mention his
missing will and other personal effects. They even used his bank cards and
wrote checks, the whole nine yards. While here I was left with funeral expenses
and a rapidly closing deadline.
I’ve gotten a speeding ticket since then, two court dates
and really tired fingers. Not to mention the hair-pulling stress, but I’ve made
it. I work nine hour days at the day job, fifteen if you include my nightly
writing spree and I’m still making it. That’s the point. Life is going to throw
lots of curve balls at me, but I will make it, and use them as fodder for my
grist mill.
Read an excerpt from Jennifer Willows's book which will be here on Friday Freebies. Check back and leave a post. You just might win!
Five years ago, New York City
Makenzie Stafford-Johns was not having a good day. She
looked at her haggard reflection along the mirrored gallery wall. Her face,
while still the same, was pinched and flustered. On a good day, Makenzie was
usually compared to Jill Scott, with her medium-brown skin, delicate features,
wide eyes and mouth. She was built like Jill, too, on the thick side on a bad
day at a size twelve. Her breasts were a full D cup, and she had just a little
behind. Enough so she wasn’t entirely flat in back, although most men in her
experience preferred more.
The reason she looked so haggard was bad news, although it
had been awhile since she had any of the good variety either. Deciding she
needed time to think, she left work at the gallery early and walked to the
nearest entrance to the subway. Her mom had called her on her cell, just before
her last break of the day. The news she gotten during the call made her scared, more than scared. Hell, terrified may be
more appropriate. Her mom had cancer, and her insurance dropped her when she
got laid off last month. The seemingly innocent conversation replayed in her
head over and over again during her trip home.
“Makenzie, I need to
talk to you. Do you have a minute?”
“I always have time
for you, mom. What’s up?”
“I’m sick.”
“Do you need some money? I have some extra cash I can send if you need
to pick up some TheraFlu or something.” She had said,
even as the thought crossed her mind that it wasn’t really extra if she
wanted to eat something aside from Ramen noodles this month.
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