Sure, I've got cold feet—it's February in Missouri, after all, a time when you could practically play music to the beat of an entire town's chattering teeth. And my left heel and right big red toenail are poking through a pair of wool socks as worn-out as an 80-year-old marathon runner.
But metaphorical cold feet? The kind that sends brides running from altars or would-be authors scrambling for 9-5 work when times get rough? Never have known that. Not in the seven and a half years I spent working toward becoming a published novelist. Not even when rejection poured like freezing rain—the kind that paralyzes cities, levels the strongest trees, yanks power lines like they're just stray threads from a blouse.
Rejection, be damned—I kept writing. Incessantly. No regular 9-5 for me (which accounts for the holey socks). Drafted my novels on a clunky, modem-less 1980's-vintage computer (seriously) and spiral notebooks.
Hoped. Believed. Screamed in frustration, but always turned the anger into work-fuel.
Eureka. A yes.
I am thrilled to announce my debut YA novel, THE OCEAN FLOOR (that's just the working title; my editor says it'll probably change) is scheduled to be released by Flux in 2010!
Let me say that again: My debut novel. Flux. 2010.
My feet might (literally) be cold, but my insides are as warm as an August heat wave...
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