“Once upon a time…” I hitched a ride on the pumpkin to publication—in the proverbial Cinderella kind of way. Let me show you my glass slipper for proof.
For more than a quarter-century, I subsidized the U.S. Post Office as my stories went out and rejections came home. I sat back in my recliner of resentment and took stock of all the wonderful things I had written, which were never quite good enough for publication. I considered myself a writer: I wrote every day, I developed characters and plot lines, and I killed many trees—for back in ...
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