I've recently finished and polished a 50,000 word edgy contemporary YA novel, and I read it again last night, and...my title says it all. I am so, so happy with it.
Am I so happy with it that if an agent asked me to revise and resubmit I'd say no way? Um, of course not. I'm happy, not *stupid.*
But I do love the book. Towards the beginning, I laughed a lot, then as the book got more serious in the middle, I became concerned for the characters, but I still giggled at the lighthearted moments thrown in. At the end, I cried. Twice. And I knew what was going to happen.
I swear, I was so all over the place emotionally, it felt like I was pregnant again.
Dammit, spouse! Did you reattach your man tubes? [grabs leftover pregnancy test]
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