I love writing. I hate writing. I love it. I hate
it. Love. Hate.
These aren’t the
feelings I’ve experienced in
my lifetime. They’rewhat I’ve felt in the last fifteen
minutes.
Writing, the act
of creation, is a blast, a high, a shot of
adrenaline.
It’s also hard; really, really
hard.
There are times when I think it’s
the most wonderful thing in the world.
And there are times when I swear I’m
never, ever going to do it again.
But of course I go back to it. It’s
my addiction, or perhaps some sort of congenital defect. Something in my genes
makes me have to do it. I’ve been afflicted since I was a little
kid.
I think nothing of turning down an
invitation to a party if it means I can curl up with my spiral notebook and
purple pen.
And yet I’m a master procrastinator.
I’ll gladly scrub the bathroom to avoid sitting down to write.
Love.
Hate.
There have been times when I’ve
enjoyed the magic of my compositions, but most of the time I think I’m a hack. I
believe that each success is a fluke and that it will never happen
again.
I look back on things I’ve written
and am proud of what I’ve accomplished.
I read old works and cringe that the
dreck made it out into the world for public consumption.
Writing has lifted me to my highest highs and
has stomped me down to
the lowest of lows.
I vow to never do it
again; but within a short
period of time, I get an idea that won’t leave me
alone until I’ve written it down, explored it, fleshed it out until it becomes
as real to me as the world around me.
I love writing. I hate writing. I am
a writer.
Now you tell me: What do you both
love and hate?
Please be sure to answer
the question and to leave
an email
address. One lucky winner
(US or Canada only) will receive an ebook copy of either the first or
second Confessions of a
Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman book (winner’s
choice).
two talking animals,
one nervous bride,
and an upcoming hit,
and you've got the follow-up
to JB Lynn's wickedly funny
Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman
Knocking off a drug kingpin was the last thing on Maggie Lee's to-do list, but when a tragic accident leaves her beloved niece orphaned and in the hospital, Maggie will go to desperate lengths to land the money needed for her care.
But the drug kingpin is the least of her worries. Maggie's aunts are driving her crazy, her best friend's turned into a bridezilla and a knock on the head has given Maggie Dr. Dolittle abilities—she can talk to animals. Unfortunately, they talk back.
and an upcoming hit,
and you've got the follow-up
to JB Lynn's wickedly funny
Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman
Knocking off a drug kingpin was the last thing on Maggie Lee's to-do list, but when a tragic accident leaves her beloved niece orphaned and in the hospital, Maggie will go to desperate lengths to land the money needed for her care.
But the drug kingpin is the least of her worries. Maggie's aunts are driving her crazy, her best friend's turned into a bridezilla and a knock on the head has given Maggie Dr. Dolittle abilities—she can talk to animals. Unfortunately, they talk back.
It's just another day in the life of this neurotic hitwoman
********* EXCERPT *********
“I see a disco ball in your future.” Armani Vasquez, the
closest thing I had to a friend at Insuring the Future, delivered this
pronouncement right after she sprinkled a handful of candy corn into her Caesar
salad.
Disgusted by her food combination, I pushed my own peanut
butter and jelly sandwich away. “Really? A disco ball?”
If you’d told me a month ago that I’d be leaning over a table
in the lunchroom, paying close attention to the bizarre premonitions of my
half-crippled, wannabe-psychic coworker, I would have said you were
crazy.
But I’d had one hell of a month.
First there had been the car accident. My sister Theresa and
her husband, Dirk, were killed; my three-year-old niece, Katie, wound up in a
coma; and I ended up with the ability to talk to animals. Trust me, I know
exactly how crazy that sounds, but it’s true … I think.
On top of everything else, I inadvertently found myself
hurtling down a career path I never could have imagined.
I’m now a hitwoman for hire. Yes, I kill people for money …
but just so you know, I don’t go around killing just anyone. I’ve got standards.
The two men I killed were bad men, very bad men.
To learn more about JB Lynn and her
books, please visit:www.jblynn.com
For links to purchase the books,
please visit:http://www.harpercollins.com/authors/38895/JB_Lynn/index.aspx
********* GIVEAWAY *********
JB Lynn has generously offered up an ebook copy of First or Second Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman (winners choice) just make sure you fill out the rafflecopter below and answer the question in white to be entered
8 comments:
I LOVE a clean house! I just HATE to clean it myself! lol
sandersknc@yahoo.com
That's a great one, Cheryl. I share your love/hate!
I'm with Cheryl, too. Clean houses are awesome, but cleaning them stinks. For my own love/hate relationship: I love baking, but I hate cleaning up afterwards (and the calories that come with eating my creations.) ;o)
Thanks, B.E. -- a see a theme about cleaning emerging
I agree. I love doing crafts but I hate cleaning up later.
Chey -- I have a friend who says "Glitter is my mortal enemy."
Oh, love/hate. I think writing. Really, I hate editing. I love the prettier finished product, but I hate getting to it so much I hide away under my desk.
Kelsey -- There's NOTHING I love about editing. NOTHING. ;-)
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