Two years … two months … and 40 days to be somewhat accurate. This is how long I have been working on Watching Fireflies. I stared at a blinking cursor while the hubster was out fishing one Saturday morning. I told myself that I was going to write a book. I told myself I didn’t care who read it. I just wanted to see if I could string words together into a sentence, string sentences together into a paragraph, and the daunting task of stringing paragraphs together into a chapter. After several weeks, I had completed a “novel” at 39,500 words.
“What is that smell?”
Those four words meant so much to me. Those were the first four words my first story ever had.
It’s still in there, but they stunk so bad, they’re now in chapter three.
After all of the edits, after all of the books thereafter, after all of the agent queries, after all of the Wattpad votes, after 40,000 additional words … we have come to this …