First Rate Secondary Characters
There are a number of secondary characters in my WIP that I’ve come to adore. It’s lucky for me as I’m going to hopefully write two more stories using this same cast. If I didn’t like them, two more stories would be drudgery. But, as it is, I’m pretty excited about seeing them all again.
In my story, some of my favorites are my heroine’s quiet sister who prefers solitude because she sees visions of people’s future all the time. Add standard ton chitchat to visions and I’d imagine I’d avoid that mishmash of stimulus too. Another is my hero’s meddling aunt. She’s a doll, but in the way of using sweetly worded requests/demands to manipulate others (for their own good, of course). And finally, my hero’s best friend, the earl who works with the Bow Street Runners. Sexy and sarcastic. My favorite kinda guy.
As a general, I don’t like stories that have too many secondary characters running around. I don't want to feel like I need air traffic control to direct everyone about. I get distracted easily. I feel like characters should be directly involved in the plot. If the plot can’t move on without them, they can stay. Otherwise, a quick mention in passing, ok, but leave their characterization to a real minimum.
Some secondary characters take on a life of their own. Lady Danbury from Julia Quinn’s Bridgerton series. What a fun and well-rounded character.
What other secondary characters do you think are particularly well done? What do you think makes a good secondary character? Are you cool with a huge cast? What role should secondary characters play in a novel? And finally, do you have any favorite secondary characters in your story?
Also: A big thank you to Sabrina Jeffries for bringing Jane and Will and talking pirates with us yesterday!
I saw the look in his eye when I glanced at him from over the crowded room. It started out so quietly before it grew into a wildfire. His eyes were like black diamonds, sparking with his fury. It was unbelievably bad luck for him to be here of all places. There would be hell to pay later in the game but for now, I couldn’t think about anything else. My eye was on the prize.
I returned his stare, unblinking even as goosebumps raced down my arms. He held my gaze for just a second longer than he normally would and fear prickled down my spine. He knew. My heart stopped at the thought and my knees knocked together. I held my breath as I tried to gather my composure..
“… wouldn’t you agree?” Cold fingers grazed my upper arm and five pairs of friendly eyes stared in my direction. I blinked as though I were seeing my companions for the first time tonight. I licked my lips anxiously as I struggled with my words.
“I- I’m sorry.” My voice carried a little louder than I’d wished and Kiki’s eyes widened when she turned to look at me two social circles over. I heard her start to excuse herself as well before I shook my head slightly to signal her off. “Excuse me. I need a bit of fresh air.”
I didn’t wait for a reply before I slipped quietly between guest and headed out to the terrace. I watched the french double doors from over my shoulder as I leaned against the stone rail. No one seemed to notice I left the party in a semi-hurry. The breeze brushed over me and I suppressed a shiver. Indian summer had held out for as long as she could before giving away to the chilly autumn air and I silently cursed my stupidity of wearing a black sleeveless dress. I rubbed my hands over my arms to give them an extra burst of warmth before heading out into the perfectly manicured garden.
___
A lot of romantic suspense writing is all about keeping secrets until the big reveal. You get to reveal bits and pieces along the way but my favorite part of this type of writing, and especially first person is that I’m the only one who really knows what’s going to happen and how’s it’s going to work out. Secrets require a lot of trust between two people. Someone who tells the secret and someone who keeps it. I like to think this is how romantic relationships are built up throughout the story line, not to mention getting to know someone you can’t stand in the beginning and then falling head over heels for them accidentally.
This isn’t true of Sadie. Sadie marches to the beat of her own drummer. She likes her life - the double one that she leads - just the way it is and having a permanent fixture in her life isn’t an option in the first book. Or the second one. Not really getting close to it in the third either. I mean, she has a working relationship with one guy and something more but not sure what it is with another. Sadie doesn’t trust anyone, especially herself and I’d like to think I’d take her on the journey to find that trust inside of herself so she can move forward. Sort of like how people tell you- You have to learn yourself before someone else can love you the way you deserve to be loved. This is a lesson that Sadie needs to learn to move on.
I liken keeping secrets in my WIPs to keeping a diary as a kid. It’s nearly the same concept. I had this pretty white diary with little flowers on it. It was a cheapo that I begged for at Christmas time. The diary had the fold over and you slid the lock home. I had a little brass key, no bigger than your thumbnail that I kept on a tattered old blue ribbon. It might have been a hair ribbon for a doll. I might have taken it from my best friend. I’m not sure. But I kept it hidden behind my clothes hanging up in the makeshift closet and my diary was hidden in the tiny crack of space between the ceiling and the top shelving for the hanging bar to insure ultimate secrecy.
I had this diary for years. It was my private stash of everything I ever thought of and filled mostly of thoughts about how I was going to marry Rob and have lots of babies and live in a tree house. This is all irrelevant. The jist of the diary is that it’s the mind that you wish you could keep. And secrets in a story are like that. Everything in the world eventually gets revealed and sometimes it’s not at the right moment, but most things are within your control. Everything can hinge off how you walk and talk through secrets and handle the truth. Trust, truth and secrecy go hand in hand. And for your main hero and heroine (and all those sub characters who function from what happens between the hero and heroine) they must have these to make the story work.
Secrets are what keeps the world turning and are the bread and butter of all books. No matter what brand you write or buy. They weave in and out of your plot, your characters, subplots, voice- you can’t escape. It’s how you get a functioning black moment at the end. You can be lying to yourself and suddenly it becomes so clear… all along you were lying to yourself and the truth was right in front of your face the whole time.
How do you know what type of secret is the right one to keep and the right one to tell while writing? Do some secrets just show up out of the blue? Readers, what are the best secrets kept by the hero and heroine that you like to read in the big reveal?
I saw the look in his eye when I glanced at him from over the crowded room. It started out so quietly before it grew into a wildfire. His eyes were like black diamonds, sparking with his fury. It was unbelievably bad luck for him to be here of all places. There would be hell to pay later in the game but for now, I couldn’t think about anything else. My eye was on the prize.
I returned his stare, unblinking even as goosebumps raced down my arms. He held my gaze for just a second longer than he normally would and fear prickled down my spine. He knew. My heart stopped at the thought and my knees knocked together. I held my breath as I tried to gather my composure..
“… wouldn’t you agree?” Cold fingers grazed my upper arm and five pairs of friendly eyes stared in my direction. I blinked as though I were seeing my companions for the first time tonight. I licked my lips anxiously as I struggled with my words.
“I- I’m sorry.” My voice carried a little louder than I’d wished and Kiki’s eyes widened when she turned to look at me two social circles over. I heard her start to excuse herself as well before I shook my head slightly to signal her off. “Excuse me. I need a bit of fresh air.”
I didn’t wait for a reply before I slipped quietly between guest and headed out to the terrace. I watched the french double doors from over my shoulder as I leaned against the stone rail. No one seemed to notice I left the party in a semi-hurry. The breeze brushed over me and I suppressed a shiver. Indian summer had held out for as long as she could before giving away to the chilly autumn air and I silently cursed my stupidity of wearing a black sleeveless dress. I rubbed my hands over my arms to give them an extra burst of warmth before heading out into the perfectly manicured garden.
___
A lot of romantic suspense writing is all about keeping secrets until the big reveal. You get to reveal bits and pieces along the way but my favorite part of this type of writing, and especially first person is that I’m the only one who really knows what’s going to happen and how’s it’s going to work out. Secrets require a lot of trust between two people. Someone who tells the secret and someone who keeps it. I like to think this is how romantic relationships are built up throughout the story line, not to mention getting to know someone you can’t stand in the beginning and then falling head over heels for them accidentally.
This isn’t true of Sadie. Sadie marches to the beat of her own drummer. She likes her life - the double one that she leads - just the way it is and having a permanent fixture in her life isn’t an option in the first book. Or the second one. Not really getting close to it in the third either. I mean, she has a working relationship with one guy and something more but not sure what it is with another. Sadie doesn’t trust anyone, especially herself and I’d like to think I’d take her on the journey to find that trust inside of herself so she can move forward. Sort of like how people tell you- You have to learn yourself before someone else can love you the way you deserve to be loved. This is a lesson that Sadie needs to learn to move on.
I liken keeping secrets in my WIPs to keeping a diary as a kid. It’s nearly the same concept. I had this pretty white diary with little flowers on it. It was a cheapo that I begged for at Christmas time. The diary had the fold over and you slid the lock home. I had a little brass key, no bigger than your thumbnail that I kept on a tattered old blue ribbon. It might have been a hair ribbon for a doll. I might have taken it from my best friend. I’m not sure. But I kept it hidden behind my clothes hanging up in the makeshift closet and my diary was hidden in the tiny crack of space between the ceiling and the top shelving for the hanging bar to insure ultimate secrecy.
I had this diary for years. It was my private stash of everything I ever thought of and filled mostly of thoughts about how I was going to marry Rob and have lots of babies and live in a tree house. This is all irrelevant. The jist of the diary is that it’s the mind that you wish you could keep. And secrets in a story are like that. Everything in the world eventually gets revealed and sometimes it’s not at the right moment, but most things are within your control. Everything can hinge off how you walk and talk through secrets and handle the truth. Trust, truth and secrecy go hand in hand. And for your main hero and heroine (and all those sub characters who function from what happens between the hero and heroine) they must have these to make the story work.
Secrets are what keeps the world turning and are the bread and butter of all books. No matter what brand you write or buy. They weave in and out of your plot, your characters, subplots, voice- you can’t escape. It’s how you get a functioning black moment at the end. You can be lying to yourself and suddenly it becomes so clear… all along you were lying to yourself and the truth was right in front of your face the whole time.
How do you know what type of secret is the right one to keep and the right one to tell while writing? Do some secrets just show up out of the blue? Readers, what are the best secrets kept by the hero and heroine that you like to read in the big reveal?
Theories on Declarations and Recognitions (Subtitled: Don't Read This In Bed, You'll Fall Asleep)
So I was doing what I typically do in my cabin all day: surfing on the internet. Instead of looking for guided tours to Ireland or scenic pictures of waterfalls, preferably with a naked Jack Sparrow posed in them, I focused instead on improving my writing by looking for online courses that might be beneficial to me. There was one called, “The Natural History of the Romance Novel”, and it listed the eight essential elements of a romance novel as: Society Defined; The Meeting; The Barrier; The Attraction; The Declaration; The Point of Ritual Death; The Recognition; and The Betrothal.
Which I recognized most, except the Declaration and the Recognition, and it took me a while to figure out what they were. Then I realized they’re only the two most important aspects of the eight. They’re central to the novel—without them, you wouldn’t have your arc. And if you have a story without an arc, you have a book that’s completely flatlined.
Now granted, I didn’t take the class, but here are my theories on the two.
The Declaration and The Recognition are based on the inner conflict of your characters. The Declaration hinges on whatever fatal flaw your character is in possession of. The Recognition is when your character realizes this flaw—then chooses to do something about it. Failure to fix the flaw results in an non-happily-ever-after.
The Declaration is the point where the character’s Fatal Flaw becomes obvious to everyone. Except the character itself. And it’s the point of the book where we know if this characteristic doesn’t change, the character won’t grow…and he/she will not get their happily ever after. The big dummies. 
Take Pride & Prejudice. Mr. Darcy makes his proposal (the worst in the history of proposals) and basically declares himself as a complete stuffed shirt prig of the highest order. It is abundantly clear to all of us, Dear Readers, that if he doesn’t get enlightened soon, he will be doomed to be a stuffed shirt prig of the highest order for the rest of his life, with no Elizabeth to buffer the slings and arrows of boring society with him. Elizabeth, meanwhile, makes her declaration that she is absolutely right in her perceptions of people; her instincts are never wrong; and he is a complete stuffed shirt prig of the highest order.
Strangely, our Fatal Flaws are usually our strengths: Elizabeth’s perception of being able to read people helps her from taking the world so seriously. She is a lot happier that way; and it’s only when Mr. Darcy finds her wanting that her usual perceptive nature is blocked by prejudice. It doesn’t matter if she finds out Mr. Darcy saves orphaned kittens, he’s clearly a jerk and she wants nothing to do with him. And yes, she’s well aware her family is far from perfect, she may even be the first to mock them—but if someone else mocks them, look out! She’s fiercely protective of Jane, who she knows doesn’t displace her emotions lightly and can be misunderstood.
Mr. Darcy’s strength: he’s a perceptive guy too, but he doesn’t perceive people with an ironic smile and a sense of the absurd like Lizzie. He too makes knee-jerk decisions about people and doesn’t second-guess if he might have misjudged. And he too is a protector: as is revealed when he protects his sister from Wickham and his friend Bingley from a lukewarm marriage.
Elizabeth and Darcy are so caught up in being right about their perceptions, there is no chance of them falling in love…not without a major catalyst that makes them re-evaluate their positions. The major catalyst would be the “Ritual Death”, by the way.
The major catalyst is followed by character rebirth: The Recognition. The point where your character realizes the problem, and their part in it. This is a two-fold recognition, because not only do you have recognize you’re doing it, you have to do something about it. The character makes a concerted effort to mend his ways. After Elizabeth bawls out Darcy for the worst proposal in the history of proposals, Darcy learns from Elizabeth just exactly the extent of how badly she thinks of him. “So this is what you think of me?”—and he leaves, rather hurt and pole-axed. He goes home, then writes her that letter that explains why he did the things he did…leaving Elizabeth to realize she knee-jerked as well.
And then Darcy goes about rectifying his mistakes, because he cares what Elizabeth thinks of him. He doesn’t send out a parade when he does these things; Elizabeth finds out Darcy’s the man behind the scenes, the man who’s singlehandedly saving her family from complete ruin…and her sister from being separated from the man she loves. [Insert *swoon* here.] When Mr. Darcy’s aunt comes to confront Eliza and make her promise not to become engaged to him, she refuses. (Granted, her rectification isn’t quite on the same scale, but it can be forgiven. Darcy had a lot more to make up for.) Then there is this magnificent meadow reunion scene…and, well, you’ve seen the movie.
Summary:
Your central conflict of your book is the inner conflict of your characters. Because all action taken by your characters, even though that action propels the plot, is based off whatever neuroses your characters are suffering. Whether they’re suffering from trust issues or daddy issues—it creates the external plot. 
The inner conflict of your characters comes from the Fatal Flaw, which is usually the dark-side of the character’s strength. The Declaration is the recognition of this flaw, the realization that if this flaw is not overcome that the Happily Ever After will not come. The Recognition is the place where the character figures out the flaw herself and makes a change to overcome it. It usually involves some grovelling. And an awesome meadow scene.
Okay, so those are my theories. What do you guys think? What do you think the Declaration and the Recognition are? Where does your external conflict come from? Circumstances or neuroses? Who’s with me in thinking all books should end with an awesome meadow scene? Who just caught on that the hotties have nothing to do with this post and are only here in an effort to keep everyone awake?
Rejected Queries: Symptoms of Post-Traumatic Disorder and Other Grumblings
And then you have the person, who when they ask you how the writing's going, you confess you didn't write last weekend (naps, you know) and you haven't sent a query of late, because well, the other agent hasn't gotten back to you, that person gives you the sort of look you haven't seen since your fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Long caught you mooning the boys out of the girls' bathroom.
You know, the look that indicates they're not buying your excuse. And you're completely full of crap.
I mean, it almost makes one tempted not to mention your writing at all, but then they'll ask, "What'd you do this weekend?" and if you respond, "Nothin'", which is a legitimate answer (and activity, I might add), you realize that was the wrong answer as well. Especially when they rattle back their list of activities, and you sarcastically wonder when they're going to work in that missionary trip to Uganda while they're at it. (I mean, really, as if escapism and napping is a crime.)
Anyway, so admittedly I started querying of late, not because I've revised my current finished WIP and therefore this is actually the next step; but because I wanted to be able to report to This Person, when asked, and say, "Yep, I sent off X number of queries this week, and got back X number of rejections." (Unfortunately since they have that Mrs. Long personality, it will probably not impress them, but I'll give it a shot. I have a little folder of my rejection letters, numbered, with a little grid where I made careful little marks of how many queries I've sent out this week.)
Not that I send out shot-gunned queries, mind. They're all personalized. And sent at completely different times. Some a full hour apart.
I have been amazed at how quickly I've gotten some responses back, being that most websites will reassure you it can take 4-6 weeks for them to respond to your query. And I do check the agents I'm sending to, and I'm not sending my novel of ritual Satanism to Christian publishing or anything. (I mean, I'm a procrastinator, but I have thought this through a little.)
The rejections have been really nice, which I consider a step up from some of the contest feedback I've received. (Once, a judge wrote down scripture notations about how my story would never, ever work, and marked 0's wherever she could. Though technically my grammar was relatively sound, and I'd spelled my own name right. They give you 10 points off the bat for that sort of thing. But I got 0's for things like "likeable hero"--with red-inked comments of "He's the DEVIL!", as if I'd forgotten who I'd made my main character. And the 2nd judge was all gushy about the same exact story--so that was really ironic. I guess they didn't go to the same church.)
Still, it's a REJECTION. I can't really feel good about it.
To keep my sulking funk in perspective, my writer friends immediately stepped up and sent their favorite rejection stories. The best of the lot was the rejection that said, "I didn't like your writing, and I shared it with everyone here, and nobody else liked it either." Ouch. Okay, so I can't complain.
Still I'm having school PE flashbacks where I'm being picked last for kickball, and some of the people being picked ahead of me are obvious ("Well, clearly, she's going to go with the brilliant, literary historical writer who finalled in her last five contests...") and some are not so obvious ("Oh, come on! My story is better than that! I didn't have a single secret alien baby! What do you mean, secret alien babies are the new rage? Are you kidding?")
Others call it a crapshoot. I'm not a fan of Vegas either, even if my current WIP is based in it. Okay, I have nothing against Vegas; I'm just not a gambler. Any time I've actually won a scratch off ticket, I usually remember the other 10 tickets I bought that did nothing--so this $2 win means I'm negative 8 dollars.
Now others will Pollyanna all over my sulk: "Hellion, at least you're sending queries. That means you have a finished WIP, right?" Yes. "And you have a query." Apparently not an interesting one. "And you're submitting, so you're trying." This is like when the losing soccer team gets a trophy for showing up to the games. Yeah, that makes me feel better. No, wait, where's my trophy? Do I have to make one out of paper-mache from my rejection letters? Hey, now there's an idea of what I can do on my weekends between naps.
What's your worst rejection letter? What's your record number of queries sent in a single day? Any ideas what creative truths I can tell This Person the next time I'm asked what I did with my weekend? And for non-writers (i.e. non-gluttons for punishment), any horror flashbacks for being picked dead last? Anyone want to help me make my paper-mache Rejection Trophy?
Bring the Pain
In a clear sign that I’ve been unmotivated this week, I’ve read a couple books, both by Teresa Medeiros, who I adore. The first one was Nobody’s Darling (an old favorite) and another I read for the first time, Yours Until Dawn.
Ms. Medeiros has an amazing knack for wringing emotion out of her readers. In Yours Until Dawn, there were numerous times when my throat choked up and I felt that rush. You know, the rush I mean. The rush where you want to cry out, “No!” as in “No, don’t leave him/her” or “No, can’t you see he/she loves you?!” or “No, he/she didn’t really mean that!”
Yet, of course, in these instances you do your best to remain silent with the denial echoing through your mind. ‘Cause, honestly, it is just a book for crying out loud. Sane, rational people don’t speak to books.
Yeah, I know, I do too.
I must admit that I keep reading for those moments “No!” moments.
Writing manuals call this the “black moment.” I feel like that just doesn’t cover it. Black moment? Like they’re in the dark? That’s not so scary. Hand them a flashlight, a candle, whatever, and let them be on their way.
Watching someone have everything they ever wanted ripped away from them and witnessing their heartbreak when they realize it is gone forever? That’s not black, that’s not even conflict; that’s pain. I guess the pain moment just doesn’t sound as literary.
But all this hurting is bittersweet, of course. This is romance; they’re bound to be happy in the end.
How do you bring the pain in your stories? Any good painful moment that really moved you recently?
Silence! Work in Progress.
I mean, does this mean they work-out with no headphones?
Wake up to the buzzer on their alarm?
Heaven forbid, could it be that they don't sing in the shower or in the car?
For work to be in progress, there actually has to be noise in the background. Somewhere inside of your head, there actually has to be something going on- a conversation, imagery that you can hear being described. While writing, if there is silence, it's like the TV being on after midnight.
Hellion- "You know that they play stuff on TV after midnight, right? It's just not a black screen with no sound."
Sin- *puzzled look* "What?"
*pirates shake their head at the non-observant Sin*
Marnee- "There hasn't be white noise on TV since 1989."
Sin *still puzzled* "Hm. Oh. Hm. Very curious indeed." *readjusting her leg warmers*
Terri *shaking her head*- "Soon we're going to have to lock her up in a home if she doesn't quit wearing the Flashdance outfit and thinking she's still cool."
See, if you only hear silence then you become very unobservant and this applies to your writing as well. Silence is understated because we crave it so much in our daily lives that we really don't realize what silence actually means to our creative side. Work in progress demands we listen to everything around us for any little thing we can use, laboring deep into the night and along the early fringes of light. This might work us into a "temporary" silence, but that's because at this point you're so mentally exhausted the thought of having one more moment disgust you.
But there's something about waking up the next morning with eyes swollen from the lack of sleep that brings that low buzz of your thoughts right to the forefront. What would it be like to have constant silence? To never hear your thoughts. To never hear your voice? How would this effect your overall writing? I'm not talking about the superficial hearing but the type of hearing that feeds your characters. If your work-in-progress is just an extension of your thoughts, if there was only silence, would your writing be flat and two-dimensional? I think it would. I know at times when I'm frustrated and nothing seems to work out write and the static is at an all time high, my writing and my voice suffer to the point it doesn't even sound like me.
So, with all that being said- How do you hear things? Do you hone in on one thing or do you hear it all from the thoughts in your head to the shouting kid in the candy aisle? Do you require silence to focus? (And this applies to readers too!) And if you have too much silence does that stifle your creativity?
Contracts Are a Scribe's Best Friend
*the door to Hellion’s cabin opens and out walks (sashays) Hellion in a Marilyn Monroe costume, complete with short blonde wig and pink arm length gloves. Hellion adjusts the bow on her hot pink dress as she wiggles to the front of the ship*
Terri: Is she wearing eyeliner?
Marnee: I think so. Is it me, or did she have an overnight breast enhancement as well?
*Hellion wiggles again, tugging her top back in place, bouncing a little to make sure everything’s going to hold*
Sin: Nope, it’s not just you.
Hellion: You know I can hear you guys, right? *tapping foot* And you can stop acting like you’ve never seen me in makeup or a dress either.
Sin: We’re just glad to see you dressed really. That streaking you do from your cabin to the kitchen is awkward when we run into you.
Hellion: *sniffing and tugging at the dress at her hips* That’s only happened a couple times.
Marnee: It’s happened seven times. We’re just amazed you own clothing because we were starting to wonder.
Hellion: What? So now we’re keeping count about every little thing? *tosses her head, shaking her blonde curls into place* Are you done ogling me now? I swear I get more grief when I wear my Marilyn costumes. You wouldn’t believe the number of married men who ask me out whenever I’m in this outfit.
Terri: Oh, we’d believe it.
Hellion: *glowering* Let me do my number please. Thank you. *crew scrambles to sidelines as Hellion motions for the orchestra to start playing*
Sin: When did we get an orchestra?
Terri: *scrutinizing them* I don’t know but they are not in my Hotties of the Week group. Where does she find these people?
Marnee: Her brain really frightens me sometimes.
Sin & Terri: You ain’t the only one.
Hellion: *singing*
Sleuths were made for finding clues:
They delight in solving crime,
But I prefer to write about a love
That lasts all time…
A plug on a blog may be an honorable mention
But contracts are a scribe’s best friend.
A blog may be grand but it won’t pay my pension
Or my rum bar tab
Or keep my ship from being drab!
*perching in the lap of a famous agent and tapping him on the nose with her finger*
Plots grow trite as scribes lose fight
And we wonder if we’ll publish in the end.
But sequels and movies rights,
Advances make rejection all right:
Contracts are a scribe’s best friend.
Avon. St. Martin’s. Penquin. Source. Bantam. *hooks a scarf around the Harper Collins representative and tugs him close* Talk to me, Harper Collins, tell me all about it!
There may come a time when a girl needs agent,
But contracts are a scribe’s best friend.
There may come a day when my star is on the ascent,
But get that dime or else no climb!
But beware when they start to descend.
It's then that those jerks leave with all their perks,
Contracts are a scribe’s best friend...
But contracts are a scribe’s best friend.
But I think deals you make with the devil
If you don’t want your reputation destroyed.
And you can't type a sentence to begin. [*fingers hunched over imaginary keyboard*]
But stiff back or stiff fingers,
You’ll type so long as the money lingers…
*plucking contracts out of agents and editors’ hands who are handing them to her and waving them*
Cuz' contracts are a scribe’s best friend….
Hellion: Okay, Question of the Day: clearly getting a contract is not the only measurement of success within writing? What is being a writer really to you? Is it about getting a contract—or do you consider yourself a writer if you write?
Books by the Crew
