You know what I suck at?

Pitching fiction. (I am happy to brag about legal accomplishments, geek bona fides, and my kid. My private FB page bears that out.)

But here’s the scoop. I have a completed, polished, and — in my humble opinion — damn good historical romance that I have done…nothing with since polishing it. Why?

Because I’m chickenshit.

And it’s time for me to get over myself.

This week, now that I have two huge monkeys off my back, the truly onerous editing job that took me 21 hours of WORK time to get through first edits before I could turn it around and send it back to the author) and Pea’s school situation, I am going start selling the thing.

I am going to pitch. I am going to query.

Even though I will be told “no” a lot.

Even though I cringe at being told “no” a lot.

I will dust off the big-girl panties from my professional wardrobe and I will get that manuscript out there in front of eyeballs.

Time for some combat drops (not simulated).