I'm very jealous right now. A friend of mine in my writing group has gotten her novel published. Really published. By a publisher. Like, where they paid her, and she'll do readings in book stores.
Really, you should check it out. I haven't read this yet, but I am reading what she's writing now and I can tell you that she is fabulous. I'll be buying it at one of her first readings.
So, I am happy for her. Really and sincerely.
And, also, really and sincerely I am jealous. I want to be a writer. I've *always* wanted to be a writer, like since I was 6 and realized that people do that as a job. But I know that wanting to "be a writer" as in make your living from your writing is kind of like wanting to be a rock star or a professional baseball player. It does happen. For a very few, very talented people who are also very lucky.
Maybe someday that will be me, too.
But for now: color me green.
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