There was a time in my life when I would have gladly done the write for hire thing. Working as a warehouse grunt to support my wife and two small kids (one of whom was just beginning to show signs of a learning disability), money was tight, my agent had been shopping my first novel for over a year without success (that novel has been buried, never to see the light of day, btw). I was beginning to despair that my writing would ever amount to anything. In fact, I begged my agent to look for anything at all, even if it was something that I didn't own and would see no residuals for. I would write ANYTHING.
Fortunately, without exactly saying "no", she would remind me what it was I really wanted and not to reach for that low hanging fruit. It was about that time that the fateful "Why don't you try your hand at YA" conversation happened.
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Fortunately, without exactly saying "no", she would remind me what it was I really wanted and not to reach for that low hanging fruit. It was about that time that the fateful "Why don't you try your hand at YA" conversation happened.
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