It started out as the most exhilarating story you had ever written. There was something magical about the premise and the mere thought of the plot made your pulse accelerate.
Like a seductive mistress it pulled you into its literary arms and in a whisper told you about all the wonderful places it would whisk you away to. It promised you greatness whilst gently stroking your writer’s ego. Life came to a halt as you spent every waking moment writing or thinking about it.
Sadly your literary relationship soon hit hard times. This was caused by your draft not sounding right after five painful rewrites and the discovery of a glaring plot hole towards the end.
Cue your writer’s inner turmoil; long arduous nights trying to write the sixth draft, hot tears, lengthy emails to writing friends, countless cups of coffee, bleak looks, sighs, moans, groans, sarcasm, chocolate binges and…
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