Then leaving writing completely while I pursued a real estate career, and more money, to help support my growing family. Freelance writing and teaching a bit during my first ten years after college. I stood at the lectern and began telling the crowd of my long journey to this moment. I actually filled the historic front parlors of Centenary College in my small New Jersey town, where twenty years earlier I’d been an adjunct writing instructor who dreamed of being a novelist. I stood at the window, early as usual, waiting for people to show (hopefully!), while trying to quiet the butterflies swooping through my gut like little stunt pilots, as the evening sky lit up with a roar.ĭespite a monsoon of biblical proportions, and a guarantee of walking in drenched as a sewer rat due to very little parking, people came. I felt like a fraud the night of my book launch for The Richest Season. (And, as you may know, I’m a sucker for self-published success stories…) McFadden’s book has just been published… although, as she explains in this essay, this isn’t the first time. I first came across Maryann McFadden when she told me about her hyper-pink book cover in response to a Galle圜at item I’d written about a “literary” novelist with a disdain for women’s fiction.
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