I never imagined I would ever reach the 8th draft of a story.
Writing that number of drafts feels sort of crazy.
Well, here I am – yay!
After finishing the weird thriller, I went out for a drink with some close non-writing friends, who urged me to return to a romantic comedy I wrote a few years ago. They had both read the first ever draft and loved the premise. My friends felt it was time I did something with this story.
Early on in the evening I refused point-blank to return to this story, of a wife who discovers her late husband wrote her and their three kids a set of instructions on how to survive life without him. Her instructions were about how to fall in love again. I was not the sort of writer who worked on something for that many drafts, the story…
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