Becoming a fiction writer is an interesting journey. When we first hatch from the egg and make the choice to express ourselves in story form, the excitement is overwhelming. We want to share, to show with pride what came from our mind. As newbies, we crave approval. Then … then there comes a point when a switch is flicked. I liken this path to a self-taught college–you write your “papers” along the way; you share your work to be judged by peers; you get your “likes”, accept the accolades and criticisms. Then, years later, college ends … and all that matters is the piece of paper, the piece of paper that beckons for your masterpiece. You no longer care about sharing; you no longer need accolades and likes. In fact, you keep that story a secret to guard like your Precious while you type away in a quiet corner of your world. Nothing matters anymore, not even publishing. The story is all. Becoming a breakout author is a path of sweat and tears surrounded by a jungle of emotions in the private office of a new writer’s mind. Sharing is not important. It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks. Somewhere out there a publisher is waiting to read your fresh work. Surprise them.