Into the Mystic

I’m a little bit of a mystic sometimes. One of the things that I feel was fated for me was being born at this time as a writer, both as an indie writer and with an established e-publisher. Online publisher The Wild Rose Press put out The Paris Notebook and they are part of that mix of my writing career  coming together with a 21st Century kind of synchronicity.

TWRP people are like a big happy family of book lovers. Romance, to be sure, but still quality books at reasonable prices and excellent terms for authors. This is the way the literary world is going. And I feel lucky to have hopped aboard TWRP. I sent the senior editor of my line a complete manuscript on Friday. Today she got back to me, having already passed along my manuscript to the woman who will be my new editor. If I get offered a contract. As far as I know, it’s always a one book contract with TWRP.

When I think back to the 20th Century and the six months or years it took just to hear a no–it’s like a bad dream. I went through that several times. That was my training and I’m happy for it. I wrote a lot of “practice” books and learned much of what I needed to break into actual published novel writing. I get a bit teary-eyed when I think that this is all I have ever wanted to do. As in career, not life. I wanted a life, a husband, children, a home. I wanted to be a housewife/writer but life conspired to take me places I never suspected I’d end up. Like a working woman. Single mom. College educated–hell college lecturer! Finally lasting love with a wonderful man and two sons who make me proud every day and grateful for the loving wives they found first time around:)

I feel very much like I am right where I am supposed to be, right here, right now. And I’m happy to be in this place of peace and contentment. Well, kitchen could use a bit of fixing up, but when you’ve lived in a house for 26 years, something or other always needs repair. That’s another thing I cannot believe. I think the longest I lived anywhere before I settled here is maybe four years. My parents moved a lot, I moved a lot. Those first two decades was always somewhere new. The only thing I’ve kept from that time is the desk I bought myself when I decided to get serious about writing. It’s a bit banged up, but it’s sturdy and it works for me.

I always knew I would be a writer. I didn’t know the meandering path it would take to get here, but I had fun along the way, learned a lot, surprised myself several times, and feel truly blessed. Now that may change once I hear from the editor who has my manuscript….am hoping she likes reading it as much as I liked writing it!


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