Dear Diary,
It's 5:50 in the morning. I turned 40 years old two days ago. It's time to get my shit together and get published. I have to do the homework of writing queries, pitches, synopsis, summaries, and endless edits. I call it homework because it is boring, i have to do it in my after work hours and I simply don't want to do it. But I do, very much, want to be a published author with a book contract that allows me the freedom to do what I want, and that will require me to, not only do the homework, but to do it better than everyone else.