23 January 2017
I had already failed at two novel manuscripts. Publishers had rejected my first manuscript, and I rejected the second, because it was not good enough to send out. I was 32 years old and beginning my third novel.
I had been trying to get a novel published since 1995, the year I quit being a lawyer. Since high school, I'd had a chronic liver disease, and I couldn't work the hours of a Manhattan law firm without getting ill, so I thought I'd write fiction. My husband Christopher had a steady job with health insurance, but we had gotten our apartment and mortgage with two incomes in mind. Money was tight.
