I live in Northern New England, am a transplanted 14th generation
Virginian (and yes, I like New England, too). I have two kids, and work full time as a secretary. I read a whole
lot, knit, design my own clothes and generally enjoy life.
The old version of this had this diatribe about how I was a writer,
dammit, even if I wasn't really published, but that I didn't care
because I was writing, dammit... Blah, blah, blah.
I do care. I do want to be published. I want to
earn a living writing fiction. I'm working on it. No, I don't mean,
"I'm going to parties and talking about the novel I am writing",
or blogging about it to make myself look good. No. My increasingly
shapely ass is in a chair, I meet my daily word count for my project
(1,000 words a day, if you want to know), and I have a project outline
and marketing plan to sell the book to a reputable publisher. <grin>
Let's face it, if J.K. Rowling had a pound for every person who
was "writing a novel", meaning talking about instead of
doing it -- Oh wait... She does, doesn't she?
I have absolutely no patience with people who say, "Oh, I'd
like to write a novel someday." Shut up, sit your ass down
and write it. If you don't know how to go about
it, check out Holly Lisle's
articles for writers. It's a good jumping off point. She has
stuff on writing marketable fiction and a lot of good advice and
links. Oh, and she makes a living at it, which means you're taking
the advice of someone who knows what she is doing from experience.
Other than that, there isn't much to tell. I mean, someone sitting
with her laptop drinking coffee ain't exactly the stuff of exciting
prose, now is it?