Magdalyn Ann & The Ten Year Sage of Her Book Series

 

Once upon a time, there was a ten year old girl who loved to read. Her mother would shake her head as the little girl brought home a stack of books twice her height from the library (no, she was not able to finish reading them all in the two weeks she had them, which is why her library dues slowly began to grow until they were more than $50 by the time she was 15). But she wanted more. So one night she opened up a new word document and began to write a story.

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Now what?

So last night, at about midnight, I finished the rewrite of my manuscript. I had been working on it for five years (and for a lot of that time, it had to sit on the back burner due to schoolwork) and to finally have it done is both liberating and terrifying.

I have a printed copy of it sitting in a three inch binder (because apparently 300-ish pages is a lot bigger that I thought it would be) and glaring at me from across the room. Once I find a sizable hole for it, I’ll bury it under a mountain of clothes or lock it in my closet for a few weeks.

Why?

So that when I do go back for a round of edits (with red pen in hand), I’ll be looking at it with fresh eyes.

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