SYTYCW: The End of the Journey

just call me mrs. novelist

When last we spoke, I had just been notified that I was one of the Top 50 semi-finalists for Harlequin’s So You Think You Can Write contest. I told you guys I was going to finish the book if it killed me. And you never heard another word.

That’s because it almost did (if I may speak in a hyperbolic manner).

Over five days, I wrote 30,000 words, and deleted about 15,000 of them (chapter six  got re-written three times). Halfway through the second day, my carpal tunnel flared up. Halfway through the third day, I started to get sick.  By the fourth day, I was miserably ill.  We’re talking 103-degree-fever-ill.

Still, I wrote on.

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SYTYCW: I Made it to the Semifinals

A few weeks ago, I held my breath, said a little prayer to the writing gods, and submitted a chapter to the So You Think You Can Write contest at Harlequin.

I knew it was good. Knew it in my bones. But I never, not for a minute, expected anything to come of it.

Which isn’t to say I didn’t worry about it. On the contrary, I checked for new comments on my entry every day. Stalked the hashtag on Twitter. Read other entries in all my spare minutes and despaired at their awesomeness.

But I didn’t think there was a chance in hell I’d make the first cut.

Then this arrived in my inbox.

congratulation email from SYTYCW2013

I made it through round one.

The next words out of my mouth were, “Oh wow. Oh crap. Oh my God…” Really. They were. Ask my coworkers.

My hands shook. My stomach roiled. My brain spun.

Real editors had read my work and liked it enough to want to see more. I am still trying to wrap my brain around that nugget of awesomeness (see also: mentally SQUEEEEing).

I am fully aware of how many thousands of writers would give their lifeblood to have the opportunity that’s now in front of me. So I’m going to make the most of it.

Becky and Mark aren’t quite ready for prime time yet. But by Sunday at 11:59 p.m.? They damn well will be. Even if it means I have to consume 1,000 gallons of coffee and Red Bull between now and then.

Wish me luck.

SYTYCW: Off to the Races

if you need help imagining what a man looks like in his underwear thought balloon

It was a long weekend in this writer’s house.

There was a lot of frantic revising. More than one navel-gazing, woe-is-me social media post. And even some tears.

But in the end, I loaded up my chapter to the So You Think You Can Write contest entry form and hit publish.

After all, what do I have to lose? At worst I suffer a little public humiliation. But you’re talking to the girl who just performed a face plant in the middle of her open-plan office. Humiliation is the name of my game.

At best, I end up with a publishing contract.

And at the very least, I get all the motivation I need to finish this thing.

So far, reviews have been good.

“I love the humor in this, and spicy it is,” said one reader.

“I can’t believe the shy and sweet Amber Page wrote this awesome filth,” said another.

A third said, simply, “RAWRRR!”

In case you hadn’t guessed, it is in fact quite spicy. After all, the whole premise of the story is based on a one night stand. A little sexy time is required.

All that to say…if you know me, and are uncomfortable knowing how filthy my mind can get, you may want to skip the second to the last scene. Or even the whole thing. I promise not to be offended.

Still with me? Alright.

Enjoy the first chapter of Winner Takes All. And feel free to leave me a comment when you’re done. The editors may or may not be taking comments into account when choosing the 50 submissions that will make the first cut.

Here’s hoping that this is just the beginning of  the journey and NOT the end of my story.

Fingers and toes crossed.

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