Long-time readers of this blog know that I’ve spent the last three years researching, writing and rewriting Ellen, a novel. I showed it to my agent twice along the way, and knew she had reservations about the premise, main character, time period and tone. I wrote the book anyway, and I turned it in. To say my agent didn’t like it is an understatement. She hates it. It’s not a novel she can represent.
I’m very proud of how I listened to her objections. I can see the validity of all her points, and I can’t argue her into liking something she doesn’t, so I didn’t even try. Besides, I agree: the book’s flawed.
Before we were off the phone, I started to think about the next book I’ve been circling around for some time, and I experienced a momentary euphoria at being able to start something new. Then…
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