Saturday, September 26, 2015

Never Too Late To Write That Great Book

When I attended SCBWI LA, I started wondering if all the agents and editors were only looking for writers in the barely-out-of-the-college-dorms category. But here's a post for those of us who chose other careers and life experiences before writing. http://www.telegraph.co.uk/goodlife/11851567/The-authors-who-prove-its-never-too-late-to-write-a-book.html?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=twitter

3 comments:

Rosalyn said...

I love late blooming stories. They always give me hope I might eventually figure things out.

Becca said...

Oh, Rosalyn, I have no doubt you will! You have that great book and an agent. How is it going so far?

Marianne Kearns said...

When we go Upstairs to the Great Beyond, as I know we shall, we shall storm the BigOlLibrary, find a place that's silent and pensive, and RITE decillions upon nonillions of our novelty HeeHee...

Here's summore coolness done in a cohesion of sassy, savvy, insane structural unintegrity...

Wanna grow-up? Literally? Lemme fill-you-up on earth withe most savvy experiences I had to date and WE hope to return to; I'd like very much to share the rowdy, extraordinary, sterling beauty of Seventh-Heaven which I have actually seen due to our accident...

Dat da fact, Jack: death is #@!!☆ smug and inevitable withe expression of a wet towel; some go to the other side while most never return. If you wanna continue, girl, I'll explain how I actually saw the other side and returned...

Our 24-wildchild-blogs are a total wasteOtime ...yet, a total wealth which shall creep stealthily across thy brain like the vivid, brazen dawn. And, frankly, I wouldn't be too concerned about what the whorizontal world thot about me, dear; I'd be much more concerned about what JESUS shall say at the General Judgement.

First, why else does a moth fly from the night than to a bold, attractive candle Light? Don't let His extravagant brilliance be extinguished, girl. You're creative, yes? Then fly-away with U.S. to the antidote: apathy is the glove in which evil sticks his bloody hand on this dying earth.

Meet this ex-mortal Upstairs for the most extra guhroovy, pleasure-beyond-measure, party-hardy-reality-show-addiction 24/7 you DO NOT wanna miss, where the Son never goes down from a VitSee-ing, ultra-passionate, YOUTHwitheTRUTH in which you'll find nonillions X nonillions X nonillions... of deluxe-cubed-HTTP (<-- pi) opportunities for enveloping, engulfing excitement; where you'll looove an endless eternity of aplomBOMBs falling ALL over thy incredible, indelible cranium, as you'll have an XtraXcitinXpose with an IQ much higher than K2 resulting in an explosion of obscene exuberance.

Last, here's what the prolific, exquisite GODy sed: 'the more you shall honor Me, the more I shall bless you' -the Infant Jesus of Prague.

Go git'm, girl. You're incredible.
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