On a whim I decided to read one of my old stories.
I didn’t even make it a quarter of the way through, it was just. . .* shudder*
It wasn’t so much the purple prose that got to me, or the minor leaps of logic, or the liberal use of adverbs (why dash when you can walk quickly and purposely?).
I think it was the fact that four years ago I though it was so good, I was super proud of it (not swell-head proud just smug-grin proud). In fact I thought it should be released out into the world for everyone to own— yes, boys and girls, I tried to get it published.
So thank you all those literary agents who politely declined and helped me grow as a writer. If it wasn’t for you guys I probably would have never upgraded my writing style, tightened my work ethic and created Niko.
It’s amazing how much of a difference four years can make. Those old stories are never seeing the light of day. *hums Taylor Swift*