Signs

Reading about more than several children’s book authors who recently signed with great lit agents who in turn signed authors on for 2 and/or 3 book deals with major publishing companies.

What recession? Or whatever you want to call it? What dearth of publishing? What self-publishing is the only hope, Obi Wan and other dire proclomations*? Or rather: So what? If I was wanting signs of hope—or proof—I found them. Or they found me. My butt on my bedroom’s bed office writing chair, I persevere.

*Will never have agent or book published if forget to use spell check and eyesight/brain connection keeps failing when obvious misspellings pop up in own writing, in own BLOG.

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About PB Rippey

Writer, wife, mother, activist, fortunate.
This entry was posted in Adult writing, middle grade, Writer's Angst, Writing, WTF. Bookmark the permalink.

Words do not escape you

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