If you’re considering such a trip (or already have open wounds and waning morale), perhaps my experience will provide a bit of welcome camaraderie — it’s always fun to listen to stories about someone else losing their shorts.
In any case, I hope to provide insight into the sharks that lurk in the shadowy depths between you and your six-, um, four-figure book advance, and forewarned is forearmed (as in prepared, as opposed to, say, missing part of your arm. Yikes.)
Like any good shark flick, here there be razor-sharp teeth, blood in the water, and shredded objects aplenty: writing and publishing a novel is not for the faint of heart, nor for those who give up without a prolonged, below-the-belt, tear ’em to shreds fight. Misery loves company (and the occasional useful tip.)
Remember: The journey is the reward. (Shine that. Whoever said it wasn’t planning to swim with Great Whites: The journey is the journey, and the reward is the reward; sorry for the confusion.) In any case, let me know if you find any of this shark repellent stuff useful. Good luck with your swim. And remember to pack an extra pair of shorts.