It’s hard to know when the appropriate amount of time has passed, when one person has been delivered devastating news and another has received promising news.
As the Taliban took over Afghanistan and the airport in Kabul became a scene out of a Hollywood movie, I was accepted into the Romance Writers of America organization.
While it changes nothing in that foreign land, it has great promise for me, especially in a female dominated industry. I chose not to go under a pseudonym name, which was suggested often, because women don’t want to read male romance authors. Well, like most things in my life, I took that as a challenge instead of advice. I was also advised not to write in the format I use, because that is not the industry standard. I listened, but did not obey. I would rather touch some deeply, than only brush the minds of all. They said the same thing about my book covers and how they are not what romance covers look like. Guess what? They are different and the artist that I have been blessed to work with are amazing and I am forever grateful.
I must have been sipping from my glass with three ice cubes, two fingers of Jack Daniel’s and a splash of water while listening to Frank Sinatra, because I did it my way. He said it best:
“Hell hath no fury like a hustler with a literary agent.”