Cover me.
I’m going under cover.
Cover your mouth when you sneeze?
Okay, fine. I was trying to be unique and not do the standard announcement, but…
Cover me.
I’m going under cover.
Cover your mouth when you sneeze?
Okay, fine. I was trying to be unique and not do the standard announcement, but…
The email from the publisher began:
“We have now begun the production cycle for your book, Wish I Was Here. Your submitted final manuscript has been professionally formatted into a custom PDF bookblock and attached here for your review.”
I had been texting with a coworker when this email popped up, prompting me to hastily exit that conversation and clock out of my day job.
The cover was also attached. Naturally, I began there. Oh, how I wish I could show you the cover, but it’s still a work in progress. When I saw it, I didn’t hate it. But I didn’t love it.
I sent it to my Faithful Few for feedback. (Isn’t it wonderful when alliteration happens naturally?) I got varied responses:
A funny thing happened when I got feedback from the “kick-start editor” for my debut novel, Wish I Was Here. She checks the first 20 pages of your manuscript to give you an idea of stuff to look out for in the rest of your book. Mainly, it was all about the commas.
This cracked me up because commas were Mark’s primary concern when he did a run-through also. I specifically remember him adding a comma before “then” somewhere.
This lady? “No commas before then unless what follows is a complete thought.”
I understand the mechanics of that, sure, but what about when there’s a natural pause where the comma would go?

I’d love your guys’ take on The Great Comma Debate. Here are two examples. Please vote 1 a or b and 2 a or b.
The deadline looms for turning in my final-final manuscript of Wish I Was Here to the publisher. The feedback I’ve gotten from beta readers has been good, but that’s mostly been men in their fifties. Clearly, I need to expand my friend group.
But the harsh reality is, I should get the reaction of my target audience: teenage girls, especially ones who are well-read.
Gulp.
I needed to let my own children read this thing.