My Dearest Amber,
It appears congratulations are in order. You have not only completed your self-publishing to self-promote experiment but you’ve finally dyed your hideous gray-filled roots, too. Hoorah! I must say, our writing is the better for both. While you may have long scoffed at my belief that looking good equates feeling good, you have little evidence against it. Tell me you don’t write a bit better when you don’t feel dowdy.
More importantly, you have at last learned (and let us pray the lesson sticks) that you must revise every draft as though it is the final version and that the final decision is yours. Constantly worrying over what some imaginary who-body thinks will stifle your confidence and creativity. There is no secret formula.
Now, I would fail in my duties if I did not voice my grave concerns over how much you’ve laid upon your writing plate. Yes, you managed an author panel and blog tour all in one week but until those pages come first again, I’ll remain in doubt. You have two screenplays in drafts, Realm needs to be readied for submissions, and don’t get me started on the synopsis. I forbid you from taking any more on until one or more of these are off your plate.
Don’t make me go on strike.
And, I beg you, fix the hem on those slacks before they catch and tear, will you?