I started writing a book based on nothing more than a voice and a first line.
There’s going to be burning down on Lander’s Common.
It was a difficult book to write – three varying first person POVS, written in the seemingly universally loathed present tense (although hey, even present tense doesn’t get the hate that second person does. Feel the love, my people, c’mon) and riddled with dialect.
I’m sure there will be people who hate this book for all the above, will go OMG VAMPIRES WHY GOD WHY and will be somewhat annoyed by various aspects of the story. *shrug* I didn’t write this book for them.
Somewhere along the way I’ve managed to get an agent. Rohypnol has its uses, obviously. (Uh, no. I really didn’t drug my agent. I have never met her, so it would be kinda hard to do).
Finally, I hold the agency at gunpoint and make them read Hob (No, I didn’t do that either, relax)
Eventually, terrified by the constant anthrax-laced letters I send (No…*sigh*) they send me a list of revisions they’d like to see.
And now I’ve a book I’m damn proud of, with characters I love, with words that make me happy.
Even if no one else ever feels the way I do about this book right now, I don’t care, because it’s better than drugs. (No. Maybe. Yes)