And Now a Message from My Mother

I love my mom. Want to know why? She asked me to bring her the newest YA series book I ghostwrote along with the one that came before it (written by someone else, someone who got paid a lot more than I did). I don’t know what I expected my mother to do with these books, but she is actually reading them, books written for 13-year-old girls.

Here’s a voicemail message she left me yesterday:

I just wanted to tell you I’ve been reading your new [YA] book and the other one, and the book that was not written by you is really difficult to read. The language doesn’t make sense, it’s just choppy, and I have a hard time reading it. But when I read yours, it’s like momentum, I feel like I’m moving along, excited, I can’t wait to find out what happens next. And that’s usually what I feel when I read your work. Like I have to slow it down because I want to read it and find out what happens next. Yours is so much better, so much better.

I’m touched.

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