Sorry. Can't help you with that question. I assume your nickname is lilly? Still learning them.
Anyway, I was just beginning my next novel. Dunno if it's traditional to show you guys how I write but I don't have any links for you to read or anything. Just thought you might wanna know what type of writer I am:
This hasn't been edited (so don't judge the careless mistakes) and I don't really want to be critted but I thought you guys would want to read something I wrote. Consider it part of my initiation. BTW "Kyle" dies in about two pages. HaHaHa... (I chortle sadistically)
Music blared, tempers ignited, congratulatory statements were tossed about indifferently, snide comments led to an uproar of raucous laughter, men shouted, the shrill screaming of excited fans filled the room and Kyle was the center of it all.
Pudgy, red-faced men who were here just for the drinking bellowed and chanted while merrily clinking glasses, beads of sweat lining their foreheads, casual book lovers prattled on about Kyle’s most recent book through drinks, his writing acquaintances – dressed in smart Italian suits and ties – drifted into the corner where they formally discussed their opinions on recent bestsellers, his friends and family hovered about while zealous fans mobbed Kyle, only to be hindered by his brawny security guards who wore the same boring, black T-shirt, the same conspicuous, white earpieces and had their arms folded ominously. The fans reluctantly dispersed, leaving Kyle alone with his two security guards. Kyle sat at the bar, slowly sipped his drink and surveyed the unfolding scene. His ears were ringing from the tumult, his vision was blurry and his head was numb from the chaotic atmosphere. He snorted. Book premiers. They seem to be more and more painful with each novel; luckily, this was the anticipated last in the series. After this, he would be done with book premiers. For good.