Many writers produce a terrible first draft where anything goes. It’s getting words down on a page that counts. You can’t edit something that doesn’t exist.

Do I have any advice for budding authors? No book is going to write itself. No one will wave a magic wand to grant you more talent or time. It all boils down to having a good idea, some writing ability, a strong work ethic and determination. The first step is often the scariest. Find writers you enjoy, read their work and learn from them. Write a sentence, write another one and keep going. Perseverance is key. If I can do it, perhaps you can, too.

14

PINK ENVELOPE

Liv read the article over and over. She passed on her thanks to Ted, via Rex the intern, for sending it to her. Over the next few days, whenever she felt a dip in confidence with Essie’s manuscript, she reached out for the piece again and hung on to the author’s words. “Perseverance is key. If I can do it, perhaps you can, too,” she repeated to herself.

She tackled her own writing in the same way she did her cleaning, making sure she had all her tools to hand. Instead of bottles, lemon, salt and cloths, she had paper, pens, the laptop and a vintage teacup. She wore the black blazer, floral dress and old striped tie. The peacefulness of Essie’s apartment, and even her bittersweet tussle with Book Twenty, gave her an escape from the noise at home, especially now that Mack had returned home for the summer from university.

Liv worked methodically and patiently, polishing Essie’s words and adding her own. Sometimes they poured out of her, and at other times they choked and spluttered, kicking their heels and refusing to hang out together. Her worries about Chloe still hung around like an overly keen childhood boyfriend.

She found herself living for the kissing-on-a-beach and rolling-in-the-hay scenes. Liv imagined she was the one scrambling her way out of raging rivers and clinging to crumbling rock faces. Creating her own paragraphs gave her a heady rush.

To tackle the emotional scenes, Liv forced herself to revisit the wrench of losing her dad, until tears streamed down her face and she could hardly see the laptop screen. And she grabbed hold of these feelings and gave them to Georgia so she could experience them, too.

However, Georgia’s true love still remained out of reach. Liv kept studying the list of existing heroes she’d noted down. She made comments to herself in the margins of the manuscript, just as Essie did. Their thoughts aligned often.

What happened in Georgia’s past that makes her who she is today?

Which lover defines her?

Who is worthy of her love?

Liv chewed her pen and still didn’t know. She crossed heroes off her list that reminded her of Ted Mason.