My first ‘book’

I’ve just finished the copyedit on my book and it’s now been sent off to be typeset. While publication day is still a way off yet, now that I’ve written the dedication and acknowledgements, and most of the remaining process is out of my hands, everything is starting to feel a lot more real.

I’ve still got plenty to keep me busy, as I’m redrafting the next book in the series and planning a redraft of another standalone novel, but my brain is still trying to terrify me with all the scary things I’ll have to do once the book’s out there in the world, like promotion and, you know, actually talking to people about it.

But while looking through my bookcase today I came across the perfect distraction: my first ‘book’, written almost exactly 30 years ago just before I turned 10.

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Just look at that front cover.

 

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Complete with melodramatic dedication at the front, and I even gave my little sister co-author status, though I only actually let her draw the pictures on the front cover and the inside front cover.

 

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Much of the content was plagiarised from the Silver Brumby series, with excessive exclamation marks, female jealousy and some horse sex references added in for good measure.

 

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I spent way more time on the illustrations than I did on the plot.

 

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There’s nothing like an abrupt ending. But at least they lived happily ever after (though it looks like I wanted to avoid cliches even back then).
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