I'm a sci-fi writer who balances taking care of six kids, a kitty, and a bunny. The bunny cracks me up. The kids give me gray hair. And the book...well, the book may or may not make me a million, but it sure as hell keeps me up at night, gives me an excuse to sit and stare at the computer after a three mile run, and has been a good source of humble pie throughout the process. I'm nearly done--six chapters away, if all goes planned by my latest (after a zillion re-do's) plot print-out.
The last sprint to the finish line seems the hardest. It feels uphill all the way. But I'm hanging in there.
The last sprint to the finish line seems the hardest. It feels uphill all the way. But I'm hanging in there.