When my year of novel writing flopped, I forced myself to enter the work force
If you tuned in to my prior post — A Flying Saucer Lands on Me — you know that my lifetime goal was to stay in my cheap apartment writing in my underwear.
To continue that wonderful lifestyle, I was counting on a quickie Western book to lasso me out of a deepening financial hole.
But when I tossed my manuscript over the transom of a New York publishing company, they heaved it back like a sack of mealy flour.
There was no more pretending to be a starving writer when the fiction might come true.
How did my Old West saga turn into a space opera?
My previous post — I Give Birth to a Baby — told how I came up with a desperate ploy to get cash from a publisher so I could keep writing full-time.
I settled on churning out a western because I knew all about the Old West from watching cowboy shows on television.
Thanks to blessed inspiration and being kicked in the ass by desperation, I had the manuscript ready to go in a month.