Oh, cluck a duck!

I’ve lost my mind. For those who know me, that really isn’t a stretch.

Just when you think it’s safe to go back into the writing pool.  The current project safely put to bed.  That evil muse (when I find her…) slaps me upside the head and says, “Did the story really start in the correct place?”


My masterpiece might not be perfect? I might have started my beloved story with (gasp) backstory?


Well, crap.

Cluck a duck, cluck a duck, cluck a duck.

The sad part is the damn muse might be right.  I have to think about this.  Couldn’t she have ‘revealed’ this before I’d sent this out to a bunch of agents.

That vindictive witch.  When I catch up with her, we are going to have words.  Words that are going to look like one of those word art pieces.


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