Melissa Grant Writes

I have a meeting with Tiffiny the day after tomorrow about my synopsis and query letter.

I swear.

I just had to take an actual break from writing like an eleven-year-old and writing about small-town city council meetings.

And buy more disco ball supplies for my girls’ night.

Of course.

And I entered a short story contest using my real adult voice.

Nervous.

As I’ve said before, people tell me things are good…

But are they really?

I think that’s why I’ve been entering contests all this time. I want an unbiased opinion from someone who isn’t afraid of hurting my feelings.

But don’t get me wrong, it’s not that Cloudia isn’t me; she’s just me before.

Me before VC Andrews and Stephen King.

Me before heartbreak. Me before betrayal.

Me before life.

Cloudia is a little sharp and snarky, but my real voice is a little dark, demented, profane and sarcastic.

Acerbic.

Why does inspiration happen when I have something else to do?

Now pardon me, I have a disco ball to dust.