My novel scares me…

Yesterday I took a drive to clear my head from the Creech bio and this happened:

Voice: Hey Tracey!

Me: What the…

Voice: It’s me. Your novel.

Me: The one about…

Voice: No, the good one. Come on, I’m languishing here! I want you to tell my story. It’s so great, I’m practically bursting with excitement. I know you see all the scenes coming together, and you can hear all of our voices getting stronger and telling you how we want this thing to go down. I know you can feel the awesomeness in your muscles. I feel it too! So please, get back to me. I’m the one you’ve been waiting for. The one that’s going to get that second novel on the shelf and slingshot your career. It’s going to be so great, Tracey. I promise. So please, rewrite me, revise me, EDIT ME! You’ll be so glad you did.

You know as soon as I got home, I busted out that manuscript. Because you should always do what the voices tell you.

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