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?
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.