In 1992 we unexpectedly sold our boat, and because a military reassignment loomed, we delayed replacing it. In the interim, I decided to see what had transpired in the world of nautical fiction. By the end of the third book, I came to the conclusion I could write as well as the people I had just read and in some cases with much more experience in the topic.
So I started work on a novel. And then life and another boat intervened. I have rewritten that first manuscript at least ten times with at least five major redirects in story line. Since it was intended to be “contemporary adult adventure” at least three of those re-writes were to adjust context. I can’t even remember the characters original names.
And when I set it aside for a while, two more stories suggested themselves, and so I wrote them down in pieces and parts. In the meantime, I discovered the vagaries of author representation. I secured the services of three (successive) literary agents through reputable channels. The first, while representing me ran into professional “difficulties” and took his boat and disappeared. [I later stumbled across him and his boat in a California marina. He hadn’t run far and his “difficulties” hadn’t looked that hard for him either.] In his favor, he did return my three-pound paper manuscript. My second agent had a nervous breakdown. My third, and the most hope inspiring, decided, in mid-representation, she was going to drop my genre from her list of such and return exclusively to bodice-rippers, literally. My characters tended to wear t-shirts or foulies, so we parted company.
I had too much else going on in life to put up with any more high maintenance third parties, and so I let the writing drift into therapy I would seek whenever my working life didn’t offer much positive stimulation. And then came e-books, and self-publishing shed some and ultimately most of its stigma.
So, I decided to rewrite once more and that first manuscript is now a novel for the Kindle*. I hope you give it a read and enjoy it, I’ve either enjoyed writing it and/or needed to, and either way, I decided to “share” it. It’s priced to keep me in dark chocolate. Writing is not a pursuit of wealth or fame for me [though I suppose I could get used to that]. I’m looking at those other two manuscripts and may share them as well.
And as is usually the case, All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.